I don’t know how people have children without having nervous breakdowns fueled by fear of them dying on the daily.
If you’ve been on the internet at all this week (and clearly you have been), you’ve probably seen the panic-inducing story of secondary drowning one mom shared about her son’s split-second near-death experience after he left the pool. I don’t even have kids and now I think my kids are drowning on dry land. Water be damned, floaties for everyone everywhere. This is the kind of mom I will be, no doubt.
Since I don’t have kids, I like to take out my irrational fears on my cats. I tie the cord for the blinds up out of their reach so they won’t strangle themselves. I frequently open the dishwasher to make sure none of them are in there. I am seriously considering child locking all the cabinets because I found Weaz hanging out in there with the bleach this week. And most recently I’ve convinced myself a hawk is going to swoop down and pluck one of them off the balcony. This is my life.
I’ve been assured my cats are too fat to be picked up by a hawk (thank you, Friskies) and also that the balcony is too close to the building for the hawk to even bother. I’ve also never even seen a hawk here, but this fear still consumes most of my day.
It’s a pretty big step that I let them sit out there at all, but they love it so much I just deal with the occasional frantic, pants-less run through the parking lot in search of my cat that fell from the third floor only to come upstairs cat-less and in tears to find that said cat was just sitting under the couch the whole time.
Seriously, how do people even have kids?