Cell phones, chaperones and good wine

Those who know me would probably say that I worry. I worry about my kids' safety. I worry about my family members being happy and healthy. I worry about the future. I worry about the elderly reaching for the top shelf in the supermarket, children riding bikes with no helmets, and drivers whose gas caps are left open while driving down the interstate. You get the picture--I'm a fretter.

Those who know me well lovingly refer to it as "catastrophizing." And I'm good at it. In fact, I've honed the skill to near expert level. I take the simplest situations and extrapolate the outcomes to near-death consequences. If it's genetic, I inherited it from my grandpa, also an expert in the field. Allow me to illustrate with an example.

This Friday, my 16-year-old daughter is heading by tour bus to NYC to perform at the Statue of Liberty, the Roxbury Choir Competition and a Master Class with Broadway experts. Needless to say, she is thrilled; I am terrified. Of course I would be! What mother wouldn't be? No need to imagine catastrophy here, though. In just the past week, two (not ONE) tour buses crashed on their way to NYC. No, I don't scour the newspaper looking for evidence to reinforce my fears. No, I don't google "bus accidents" just so I can be aware of the catastrophies that might take place. The odds of two tragic and nationally-televised bus accidents in the same week are rare. But the odds somehow increase exponentially when my child is scheduled to take her first parent-free bus trip to NYC within the same week. Arggh! It's fate forcing me to face my fears despite my every synapse telling me to pull her out.

Those who know me realize that I will be a nervous wreck until her return Sunday night. Thank heaven for cell phones, chaperones and good wine.