Hello there! I’m the anxious mom, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.
As a parent, I find myself constantly vigilant, especially when my child is out and about. You may recognize me as the one who hovers around the playground, calling out warnings—not from anger, but from a place of deep concern. I often see potential dangers lurking in every corner, and my mind races with the myriad of worst-case scenarios that could unfold in an instant. The phrase “be careful” seems to escape my lips numerous times each day.
When my child attempts to scale a jungle gym, I can’t help but picture him plummeting and injuring himself. To me, even the smallest pebbles and wood chips transform into choking hazards. And don’t even get me started on the innocent joy of riding on Dad’s shoulders; my heart races just thinking about the risks involved if he were to lean back too far. Couch jumping? Forget it! I usually move the coffee table out of the way by mid-morning, all thanks to my anxiety.
You won’t find me tackling local hiking trails with my little one strapped to my back. To be fair, even a simple trip to the park can feel like a mini-adventure on particularly challenging days.
While I often perceive danger at every turn, I strive to make this internal struggle my own rather than projecting it onto my son. Like many parents, I’m caught in a constant battle between wanting to provide my child with diverse experiences and the need to stay within my comfort zone.
I certainly didn’t plan on being the anxious mom. I envisioned a different reality—one where I encouraged my children to explore freely outside, trusting they could return home by dinner. I believed in fostering independence and the importance of letting kids learn through their own mistakes. I longed to be the laid-back mom who could effortlessly chat with other parents while our children played without a care in the world.
But then my son, Oliver, arrived, and the gap between my expectations and reality quickly became clear. Yes, I am the anxious mom—the one who will likely hear her kids reminisce about how overly protective she was. They may laugh at the memory of me hovering close by at the park or grimacing when their dad let them leap onto the bed. Perhaps there will come a time when my anxiety eases, and my children will find humor in my cautious nature. After all, I am a mom aware of my limitations and actively working to improve. Today, however, I embrace my role as the anxious mom, and I’m glad to connect with you.
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In summary, while I navigate the challenges of being an anxious mom, I’m committed to fostering a loving environment for my child. It’s a journey filled with both apprehension and joy, and I look forward to sharing it with you.