Friday the 13th

Today is one of those days that I stay on my toes, over analyze everything and refuse to do even the simplest of things in fear that something will go wrong. Today is Friday the 13th. Yes, I'm one of those people. One of those people who believe in silly superstitions. I won't walk under a ladder, or split a pole. I won't cross the path of a black cat without crossing him out first and if I witness salt being spilt, well, the person behind my left shoulder is getting a salt bath. My OCD tendencies ventured over to my child as well. Ryan wasn't allowed to have his hair cut prior to being 1 year old even though he put Billy Ray Cyrus's mullet to shame. Oh and how could I forget our wedding? I made my matron of honor walk down the aisle during rehearsal because it's bad luck if Brett saw me do it before the real moment and who knows what I would have done or thought if he had seen me on the day of our wedding prior to the ceremony. It's quite possible that I would have attempted to call off the whole thing... or at least thought about all the bad luck we'd have.

I'm not sure where my insaneliness (yes, I just made a new word. You like it?) came from. It certainly did not come from my parents. I think it started when I was young. Every once in a while I'll have a birthday fall on Friday the 13th. I think I was in second grade when I had a bowling party for my birthday. It was on Friday the 13th and the first Friday the 13th birthday that I remember. I bowled like crap, got frustrated and then one of my friends and I got in a fight at my party. Maybe that's when it all started. However, I'm getting better. 3 or more years ago I would have called in sick to work or skipped my classes for the day, lock myself in my house or apartment and wait the day out. The one time I did ignore my anxieties, Dakoda decided that Friday, June 13th of 2007 (I was 5 months pg with Ryan) was a good day to chase a rabbit into Duke Forest. She was gone for over 5 hours. I thought she was gone for good and my mother thought I was going to go into premature labor. With a job, husband and a child, it is no longer possible to lock myself in my house, so now I just suffer 3-4 times a year for an entire day just doing what is necessary and waiting for something to happen. I know. It's sad.

My parents are taking Ryan to the beach this weekend. DRIVING 2.5 hours with my child TODAY... Friday the 13th. How am I feeling right now? I was packing his things last night and literally shaking off negative thoughts and anxieties about him traveling today. I told Brett that maybe we'll just keep him home with us... of course he gave me "the look." He has asked me before if I'm going to keep our children in a bubble all their lives. Well, that's one idea. I'm meeting my parents at the intersection of I-95 and I-40 so we can trade off Ryan. My ride home alone with my stomach in my throat will be miserable.

This morning Brett dropped me off at work (we're down to one car again because his alternator went out yesterday). I asked him to humor me and text me after he dropped Ryan at school and got to work himself. All he said was ok. Either he's just accepted it or he just doesn't fight it anymore.

I think my mother thought I'd "grow out" of this. If she's right I've got some more growing to do.