If Mom's Afraid ...

If it weren't for the calendar telling me it's the middle of March, the weather in Kansas City this evening would cause me to believe it's November ... it's cold and raining. As I type these words, I'm sitting on my couch wearing two t-shirts and a hoodie, two pairs of long underwear pants, thick wool socks and my furry slippers, and I'm wrapped in a blanket. Yes, it's true ... I'm wearing long underwear pants without a pair of regular pants over them ... don't judge me. Even though it's a rainy, cold evening, I'll take this kind of weather in March anytime over thunderstorm weather ... of course I will. I keep hoping my fear of storms will somehow magically disappear ... yeah, right ... like that's going to ever happen. Something tells me my hope would be much better served should I direct it toward my desire for a mild, calm, storm-free spring season.

It's more than a bit odd to me that my irrational fear of thunderstorms only presented itself over the last few years, and I'm certain there's some deep and mysterious psychological reason for its appearance at this particular time in my life. Hmmm ... perhaps I need to address that in my next visit with my life-saving head doctor, except that I'm not sure I want to add understanding why I'm storm crazy to what I already understand about all my other crazies ... sheesh. I can remember when all my kiddos were young and the tornado sirens started blaring, I would send them to the basement while I stood at the window and watched the sky. Now I put my dogs in their kennels and bungee them to the water pipes, crawl into my makeshift storm fort and wonder how long it will be before my heart explodes. Boy oh boy, things have certainly changed over the last couple of years ... they've changed a lot ... things have changed a whole, whole, whole lot.

Though I don't understand the drastic change when it comes to the level of terror I now experience when storm clouds fill the sky, I do understand at least partially why I wasn't terrified ... or at least I understand why I didn't allow my fear to manifest itself in front of my children. I simply couldn't let myself be afraid of stormy weather when they were all little kiddos because if I was afraid, my sweet children were terrified. Moms are supposed to be brave ... moms are supposed to be strong ... moms are supposed to protect their families ... moms are supposed to be rocks that can never be moved ... moms are supposed to weather anything storms may bring ... moms are supposed to be moms. Kids have a way of knowing when their mom is afraid ... and when their mom's afraid, they are terrified.

I've come to believe that fear is without question one of the most powerful emotions we humans possess, at least it is for me anyway. When I give in to fear, it steals away my happiness ... it takes away any shred of courage I may have once had ... it robs me of my self-esteem. And here's the thing ... perhaps the worst thing of all that fear does to me ... fears turns me into a follower rather than a leader. Fear changes me ... it turns me into a Terrie I don't want to be, a Terrie I don't respect, a Terrie I'm not proud of, a Terrie I don't love.

A dear, dear friend said to me today, "If Mom's afraid, the kids are terrified," and he wasn't talking about my children and he wasn't talking about thunderstorms. The truth is we all have people who look to us for answers ... I have people who trust me to protect them ... people who believe I can make a difference ... people who are counting on me to help them ... people who are begging me not to be afraid ... people who need me to just be me. And that, my friends ... that is far, far more frightening to me than a thunderstorm.

"If Mom's afraid, the kids are terrified." 

Don't be afraid to think about this one for a while ... don't be afraid to think a really, really, really long while about it.