Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Over-reacting Mama

Do you ever feel that you are one? Asking the mamas right now, of course. Because if you're a man and you feel like an over-reacting mama, you might want to get that checked out.

For me, I have had fought the urge to over react since the day the two pink lines showed up on the at home pregnancy test. Sometimes I succeed, and sometimes I don't. It seems, however that I am usually surrounded by people who tend to under-react... so there is balance after all is said and done. My husband is Mr. Steady. He doesn't get overly excited about too much. And the other man involved in my children's well being, our pediatrician, is the most mellow man you've ever met in your life. One time, during a well child visit, I told Dr. T that Madison's head occasionally falls off and I have to fasten it back on. He still gave me his standard reply to just about every concern I bring to him: That's perfectly normal; she'll probably outgrow it.

Okay, so I did not actually have that conversion, and Madison's head has never actually fallen off. Came close but never did entirely dislodge. And I'm not complaining about my doctor or my husband. They're good for me. They help me take a deep breathe and count to 10 and pop a sedative and put my head in between my knees and visualize a beach with tranquil waves. All right, they do none of those things; I guess I'm in the mood to write fiction today. They simply help me to refrain from over reacting.

Like I did today.

The older girls are in the habit of picking flowers for me all the time. Just about every time they go outside, they find a dandelion or buttercup or some other plant to pick and proudly present to me. I looooove this stage. It's just so cute to see them frolicking around with handfuls of wildflowers. Sometimes, when they pick an abundance I put them into a mason jar on my window sill. Beautiful. Sometimes, when the girls have braids in their hair, I weave the stems into the braids. Even more beautiful.

Yesterday, I was sitting on the couch nursing Leila, while the girls ran around outside while Seth did some yard work. Suddenly, Eden came charging through the door, running full speed at me with a squirming lizard in her hand! My heart just about jumped out of my body and plopped onto the ottoman. Reptiles and amphibians are. not. welcome indoors. The welcome sign on the door does. not. apply to lizards. I started screaming, "Get that out of here!!! Go! Out! NOW!"

Leila started crying, and Eden's jubilant expression was immediately replaced with shock and bewilderment. She did as told, turned right around and headed out the door. As I watched her leave, I looked more closely at the Evil Lizard of Doom, and realized it was leaves. Unusual, fern-like light green leaves that she had picked to bring me. Not a lizard to contaminate my home and infant child. Just leaves.

I called her back and she very timidly, slowly inched her way back with her now rumpled gift. I told her about my misunderstanding, which she thought was quite funny. And the funniest part of all is that I never need fear Eden even touching something slimy like a lizard... it's Maddie's who I need to take a closer look at what she's mashing in her hands. (Yes, caterpillars have met their demise by her over adoring hands.)

So there you have it. My latest episode of unwarranted hysteria.

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