It was already a very emotional Sunday, and I didn’t know if I could handle any more. But my son was exhibiting some of the classic symptoms, and I knew I couldn’t forgive myself if I dismissed them. So while he was sleeping, I checked:
Related post: Scared
This post is about a recurring fear that goes through my mind. It is something that I think of often, but may not be entirely justified. If you, or someone you know, is actually living the part of the person I fear becoming, please don’t let this post scare or discourage you. You are incredible, and your dedication to your children is inspirational. I may need to lean on you for support someday.
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“Daddy! Daddy!” came the call from my 5 1/2 year-old-son’s room (we’ll call him “Jay”) last night, at 1:30 in the morning. “I’m thirsty, can you get me a drink of water?”
He chugged his cup of water, and went back to sleep. Meanwhile, I lied awake in bed for an hour, worrying about just why he was so thirsty.