Parent Fail 507 - The Big Bad Wolf

PREFACE:

I have an issue with anxiety. (I know, SHOCKING! Right?!)  I also have a VERY vivid imagination, like 5 year old vivid. My husband loves my imagination but, understandably, isn't so fond of my anxiety. We have had more than one discussion on how my vivid imagination directly feeds my anxiety.


I don't have a passing thought that is easily pushed out of line by the next impatient thought. My thoughts are like company that show up unannounced and then stay for dinner and then won't leave even when you are dying to go to bed.  My thoughts are full blown motion pictures, complete with a 4 part prequel to explain the complicated backstory. My thoughts aren't a simple passing flashes; they are detailed visions of an alternate universe, complete with a past, present, and future.  They are specific and oftentimes emotional, even though I rationally know they are not real.

Example: When I was a little girl...a man lived in my closet. His name was Roy and he wore a red zip up hoodie. He was married to wicked blond lady, I don't recall her name. At night, they would come out from my closet and stand in my room and watch me. I would want to yell for my mom, but I couldn't make a sound. I could only watch. Never blink. Roy was like the ghosts on Mario brothers, quantum locked like a Weeping Angel. As long I watched him, he wouldn't move; but if I took my eyes away, even for a second, Roy would come to life. Roy had a very big knife and he would come over and stab me in the back. I still sleep with a pillow against my back to this day.

THE LONG WINDED POINT:

Last year, Colver went to preschool. It was a wonderful preschool; state certified, affiliated with a private school in our community, educated and trained teachers/staff with years of experience. They did crafts, sang songs, and learned their ABC's and 123's. They put on programs for the parents so we could see our children's progress. They went on field trips! Yes, field trips...to the grocery store, to the bookstore, to the pumpkin patch, to the park. I handled the field trips like a champ! They put my baby on a rectangular metal death trap (aka a school bus) with no safety implementations (aka seat belts or airbags) and drove him around town, where idiots are allowed to drive about freely causing mayhem and destruction. Oh sure, I was nervous the first time but after that it was smooth sailing...UNTIL...

Actually, hold up, I should be honest here. I was put at ease with my child going to field trips because my mother in law (God bless my MIL). She was like my field trip security blanket. No need to worry, GrandMary is here!!! She went on all the field trips with Colver...all but one...

I had forgotten Colver had a field trip. COMPLETELY forgotten. I was busy. It got rescheduled due to weather or an illness.  I honestly don't remember. What I do remember is the moment when a friend/co-worker, whose son also went to Colver's preschool asked me if I was leaving work early to accompany my son and if I was riding the bus. Apparently, he had a field trip to the park for a nature hike. My heart began to race. My mind followed suit (Doing some of it's best work in the crazy department, if I do say so myself).

Field trip. What field trip? What do you mean he has a field trip? To Barfield! A public park! Where pedophiles and mass murders are allowed to ride bikes...and roller skate...and hike...and play frisbee golf while they wait to snatch a child lingering a few steps behind the group and then shove them into their windowless white van. For a nature hike...in the woods...where vicious man eating wild animals stalk little boys like prey. What if he wanders off and gets lost?...he has ADD for sure...he was going to get distracted by a squirrel and the teacher wouldn't notice because there were so many kids...did they use the buddy system?...are 4 years old capable of doing the buddy system?...it was early spring...it could snow...he isn't even dressed for snow...he was going to get lost in the woods after chasing a squirrel...it was going to get dark...and cold...and snow...and wolves, wolves would stalk him and watch him with beady eyes waiting to eat him, while he sat, frostbitten, in his blue zip up hoodie, covered in snow...knees pulled up to his chest...crying for me...LOST...COLD...ALONE...OH MY BABY!...DEEP BREATHS ELENA!!

I called my MIL. She was busy with a doctor appointment, or hair appointment, or appointment with her financial officer. It really doesn't matter. She couldn't make it. I tried to call the school but, only got a teacher's aide, who I had previously chewed out so she wasn't really sensitive to my needs. They were already on the buses. She took a message. I was having a full on panic attack.

I called David, my husband. His response was lacking. In his defense, by the time I called him I had envisioned and could have described in great detail the placement and severity of the claw and bite marks I had envisioned covering our son. He was calm, cool, collected, and RATIONAL!! (Oh his rationale steams me!)

"Honey, they do this all the time. You have gotten yourself worked up over nothing. He will be fine. ...And they aren't even predicting snow."

 Didn't. He. Listen. At. All.?

"BUT WHAT IF THERE'S A WOLF?!?!?!" I yelled into the phone.

He laughed at me.  He still laughs at me over that to this day. Sometimes out of the blue he will just say "What if there's wolf?"... and start laughing.

EPILOGUE:

For 3 hours I sat quantum locked, much like Roy, unable to work. Consumed by my self inflicted panic, until the school director finally called me back. Colver was fine. He had a blast learning about snakes and frogs and other gross stuff that lives outside.