I worry that I’m not a good parent. I worry that I’m too selfish to be a good parent. I worry that I’ve made too many mistakes to be a good parent.
I worry that I try too hard. I worry that I don’t try hard enough. I worry that I let my son play too much Minecraft and then I worry that I nap too much when he plays too much Minecraft. I worry when my son gets a “D” on his math test and then I worry when I can’t figure out why he got a “D” on his math test. I worry that there are not enough hugs, not enough I love yous. I worry that there is enough criticism, enough nagging.
I worry that I won’t be enough. I worry that I’ll be too much.
I worry I’ll never be as good a father as my husband. I’m jealous of his patience and his kindness and his ability to remain calm always. I worry my kids will prefer him to me; or worse, they will prefer me to him. I worry I don’t love him as much as he loves me. I worry he will get a better offer.
I worry that I’m turning 40 in six days. I worry what that means. I worry that I won’t have the energy to keep up with a five year-old and a nine year-old. I worry that my kids will think I’m old. I worry that I am old.
I worry that I worry too much and I worry that all this worrying means I’m missing out on moments I can never get back. I worry that I won’t know what to do when I stop all the worry. I worry that I’m not evolved, just neurotic. So very, very neurotic. 😃