I am consumed with jealousy over my 2 main characters. They both happen to be women. (well I guess that did not just happen). They are both mothers and doing whatever they feel necessary to keep their son safe.  Now, I know I would do anything, anything at all to ensure the safety of my 3 sons, and I try my hardest to give them a well-balanced healthy life. However the older I am getting the more anxieties are setting in.

When my older 2 boys were younger I ran in the park with them, pitched the baseball, climbed the trees and dug in the dirt. The bigger the thrill the more fun we had. I could not wait until they were tall enough to ride the big rides at an amusement park. I have always loved roller coasters.  Before they were tall enough I would go to the amusements parks with my brothers or cousin and wait on the long lines for a few seconds of pure adrenaline fun. Well as each grew tall enough, we discovered they just did not like rides. Gees! I couldn’t believe my boys were afraid of rides, I mean really who raised them?

When the little guy came along 18 years after the oldest and 13 years after the now middle boy I found I was not running as fast.  The baseballs were pitched from a machine  and I thought it to dangerous for me to attempt to climb a tree ; but I still dug in the dirt! I still love the rides and hoped the little guy would too.

At an early age he gave me hope. He would get bored with the kiddie rides and beg to go on the bigger ones. We managed to compromise on a few rides that allowed the little ones on as long as they were accompanied by an adult.  We would be forced to sit together, I mean I am the responsible adult taking him on the speeding roller coaster! The older he got the less they forced (allowed) us to sit together! Ummmm, what was happening? Why was my little guy growing up? Why can’t mom sit with her little precious cargo?

Finally he is tall enough! But…I can’t, I could not bear it!

We stood on-line for our first big (really, really big) roller coaster ride. He wanted to do a loopy loop one first, but I explained to him that we should start with a non loop to get the feel of a big roller coaster and to make sure the thought he had of the thrill in his head measured up.  We were next, we were going to be on the next coaster and in the front seats!!  No!, No!…what was happening to me. My mind went dark, then started a horrible picture show of what could go wrong! No….I waited too long for this moment, my little guy waited 11 long years for this very moment!

Without a second to back out and fake a heart attack we were on the ride buckled in and headed up the long haul of doom. My heart was racing so fast I thought for sure I was truly going to have a heart attack. My mind was telling me he was not buckled in, that he was going to slip between the safety bars or that the coaster was going to malfunction.  As we soared down towards the earth and back up to the sky I twisted my body against the G-force trying to hold my little guy.  By the time we pulled back into the station (which felt like a life time, but was probably not even a minute) I was sweating from places I didn’t know I had and my mouth was so dry I couldn’t swallow.  Firmly standing on the exit plat form I hugged my boy as if I had not seen him in years. He hugged me back but with pure excitement and cheering for another go around!

Well I fought against the fake heart attack but orchestrated  diversions of needing to eat and well the food must have not agreed with me because I could not stay out of the restrooms. I insisted he go on the rides without me but the lines were so long he only made it one ride before mom could not bear the pain in her stomach any longer. (and oops! we were leaving for home the next day!) On the long ride back to the hotel he was in the back full of disappointment and I’m sure a little hatred for me. I was consumed with self loath and guilt that I am not as strong as the mothers I write about. The mothers that fight over one little guy and would do anything to put a smile on his face. I was so jealous that they were fearless and the only anxiety they felt was over whether or not they were going to get caught for doing whatever it took for their little guy!

My characters should feel lucky that I have gotten to a point where anxieties control me, because now they have all the fearlessness of my youth!

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