It's not just me

This thing with my absolutely fearless child running away from me on the sidewalks of New York really worries me.

On top of the normal "I don't want her to die" fears and anxieties, there was this small, niggling little fear that maybe it was just me.

That maybe she was acting out against me because I'm pregnant, or because I'm not doing an effective job of monitoring her, or you know, that I was just failing as a mom.

And yes, these are the worries that creep into my brain and keep it busy at night when I can't sleep because: A) it is too freakin' hot out; 2) my geriatric cat likes to paw my face and nuzzle my eyes for attention at 1,2,3,4 and 5am; and finally)because at 19 weeks pregnant my bump has started to interfere with my sleep. And yes, I realize that my 3am fears tend to be a (ahem) wee bit melodramatic. Give me a break, it's 3am! (btw I can see your eyelids twitching, dear readers who notice lapses in grammer and punctuation. I did that A 1 finally thing just for you. You're welcome)

Therefore, I confess that I felt a little bit better last night when I picked my insane toddler up from her Montessori school and they told me that Monkey was running away from them, too! And had received a stern lecture about not running away! They even let the entire class walk into the park without her, to emphasize the point that if she didn't hold either the rope or a teacher's hand, she could not go to the park. For an almost-two year old, that's hardcore.

Monkey's sidewalk privileges have been revoked until further notice. And it's going down on her permanent record.