It became crystal clear to me this past weekend why I am so afraid. Of, like, everything.
Anxious. Scared. Nervous. Fearful.
Did I already mention anxious?
While I can't fix myself up completely (some of it's so damn ingrained), I can do my best to make sure my boy doesn't grow up with the desire to put himself and all those he holds dear in a fat plastic bubble. Truth is, there's so much more to life then just those things that seem safe. Like, staying in your house and reading books all the time. Or staying in your house and watching movies all the time. Or staying in your house and clicking around the Internet all the time. Or staying in your town and not branching out to new people. Or, or, or....
So here's the word, bird. It's okay if Leone wants to play by the river. It's okay if he wants to climb up and over every single boulder from here to the top of the mountains. It's okay if he wants to run and jump and scream and kick and giggle and whisper and throw and EXPERIENCE LIFE.
It's okay.
Really.
