What am I paranoid about?
Paranoid is such an ugly word... I prefer the terms "insistent upon" or "don't appreciate when" or "really don't like it when".
Okay... paranoid it is.
Who am I kidding?
I am paranoid about fire. Fires. I hate them. No...not the firepit kind or the stove burner kind... but the blazing, smoke spewing, burning up houses and forest land kind.
I hate them.
I hate the people that start them.
All that carnage... for a cheap thrill of starting a fire.
It makes my heart bleed when I see peoples homes go up in flames on TV... and I live in So Cal, and fires are prevalent.
Paranoid... no... but get really, really pissed off and jittery when I hear about a possible arsonist...
I AM paranoid that my children will grow up, get married and never come to see me or think of me or call me again. I get afraid that they will not want to be around me when they are grown.
I'm trying to brainwash as much as I can, as fast as I can... lol!
I am paranoid that all the teaching, preaching, talking to, schooling, what have you... we do about them not trying drugs, or abusing alcohol, or doing anything that could harm them or others
will not be heeded by our sons... and I am paranoid that they will experiment and get hooked and go through all the terrible things other families have gone through.
I was once told, by someone my hubby is related to, that "Everyone has at least one drug addict in their family"... AND I REBUKE THAT STATEMENT WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING!
It was like she was wishing it on my family.
My brother, nor I has ever done, or tried drugs of any kind... so... no... it ISN'T in every family.
And... I'm certainly never going to try, do, or talk about drugs and alcohol like it's cool, with my kids... ever. So far... so good, but I won't have control soon...and I don't want them making the wrong choices... and it's so hard being out of control, when I am a control freak of a mother to begin with. I just want my men to have good, clean, wonderful lives, full of laughter and children, and great wives, and... and... and... you catch my drift...
Oh... and one more thing...
I HATE.. HATE... HATE... HATE... HATE. SNAKES.
They should only EVER been shoes or belts or bags.
Those... I am paranoid about... to the nth degree.