More Silly Fears

I forgot to mention the spiders and centipedes. When you are the only parent home, you must be the one to lead them out the door when your daughter is afraid. I've always thought it was silly to be afraid of bugs--we're so much bigger and probably scarier to them, but now, finally, I think I've come as far as I ever have in overcoming my fear of spiders and centipedes in my house. And it's all thanks to this past year of being a single-parent.

I've always talked to animals, even bugs, but bugs like arachnids and chilopods freak me out when they pop out in my bathroom or bedroom or kitchen or laundry room. When Joel is here I frantically ask him to come get it. If Grace is around I stay calm but I am still freaked out. I realized that by having Joel lead the bug outside, I was not dealing with it at all. Looking back, I think I was more afraid because I could be.

Now that it's just me (and Nate, if he's home) I still don't like to be startled by the spiders and centipedes, but I communicate with them more again (like when I was a kid). I ask them not to come into my bedroom, especially above our bed, and I ask that they just show themselves in a way that won't be so sudden. I even had a conversation with a centipede in my bathroom one night. I told him I knew it wasn't his fault that he had so many legs and moved so fast. I said, "So you walk fast, so what? Is that a reason for humans to freak out? Well I'm done freaking out. I see you. You're just a little guy roaming for food or something in my bathroom. Just please don't crawl on me or come in my room and we'll just call it a night, okay?"

I didn't take it outside. I felt sure that he would just go back to his hidey-hole and not startle me anymore. And he hasn't. It's been about five months now--no more midnight appearances by Mr. Centipede or his kin. Same for the spiders. I actually had two spider buddies this summer and fall; they hung out on their webs right near me when I sat on my porch swing to write. I watched them grow from tiny little black and red spiders to big, fat, round gals. At least I think they were gals. They got so plump; don't the female spiders usually get bigger like that? In any case, I considered them my writing pals. My fellow story weaver buds. I thanked them for not coming into my house, being so big and all. Plus, I still had a tinier spider friends that came out in the evenings to crawl on my living room ceiling when I wrote at nighttime or to greet me when I went to my kitchen sink for a drink of water.

Just another way single-parenting has reminded me about reconnecting with all living beings. I am thankful.