I admit that He worries about things that I do not. Parents spend a lot of time worrying. Between the fear of monstrous, unnamed disease epidemics to "normal" development, it seems like worrying fills the majority of "down" parenting time (by this I mean the time not physically caring for them). With quite a few years under our belts in this department it has become clear that the worries that preoccupy us are categorically divided. I don't know if our division of parental worrying represent the average couple or not. However, we both feel that our worries are the greater ones (the ones that really matter).
We like to camp, usually in the mountains near our home. We have a tent trailer that offers more convenience with small children. We planned a camping trip one summer by a lake a few hours drive from home. As we set up camp right above the shore line, I worried the whole time about children wandering too close to the water. I felt like I was on guard the whole time. It was not relaxing. In fact, the only time I felt at ease was at night when we were tucked inside for the evening. On the last night of our adventure a light rain had started as we were finishing dinner. We sent the kids inside the tent trailer while we cleaned up. The rain steadily increased as we prepared for bed. As it was still fairly early, I read aloud the book that I had brought. It was The Watsons go to Birmingham (we were still in the first half of the book and it kept the kids and husband laughing, and kept their minds off the rain pelting the aluminum roof). All the while a little storm was brewing outside. Finally we settled down to sleep. I fell asleep to the soothing sounds of rain drops. Apparently I slept like a log.
He however, WORRIED the whole night long. According to Him, while His wife and children were somewhere in dreamland, He was manning the helm during the storm of a lifetime. I cannot corroborate any of this, but the trailer was on the verge of lifting off (heading toward the Emerald City no doubt). The tent base was rocking, the springs were groaning, the tarps were flapping, all as the water was rising around us. Meanwhile slumber enveloped my maternal concerns. In the morning, as He recounted the near demise of our family the night before, I laughed at His seemingly serious tone. How could I have slept through such a perilous storm while my children's lives hung in the balance? According to Him, how can I sleep so soundly during any and every storm we ever encounter? Because He watches out for danger in the night. He worries for the both of us.
He mans the helm...
...one more reason I love Him.