082809 - WhyJulia Roberts can suck it.

I have a problem with panic. It's been diagnosed. It gets better then worse then better. I am often afraid that I will die in my sleep, and so, I make it a point to tuck in and kiss all three of my guys before bed every single night. No exceptions. Period. It is a compulsion and, luckily, one that isn't quite as debilitating as, say, online poker or methamphetamines. Nonetheless, it is slightly unhealthy that my good night rituals center around a fear of not waking in the morning.

I tell you that to tell you this: Andy is going out of town for a weekend in T minus 2 weeks. For a wedding. For approximately 50 hours. He will be going to the airport on a Friday a.m. and returning on a Sunday afternoon. Fine. Okay. Except that I'm going to be all alone with the kids.

Now, most Mom's would be concerned about how to entertain the kids, keep the house clean, keep their sanity...but oh no, not me. I'm concerned that I will die in my sleep or have a stroke or another sort of embolism and the fire department won't be able to kick in my door because I'll have the fancy brass door lock thingy engaged. So, it's a war in my mind...do I engage the lock for safety to keep out predators and door to door bible salesmen? Or leave it open so that the imaginary police/fire rescue/paramedics can enter my house and find my screaming children horrified at Mommy not getting out of bed. Morbid? Yes. I am aware. Healthy? Assuredly not. But the ability to write about this, my old therapist would tell you, without the crushing need to race to an ER and be evaluated, is healthier than you know.

So, that scene, in Steel Magnolias? The one where Julia Robert's character is all slumped over in a diabetic coma and her husband comes home to find her toddler all screechy and red-faced? That's the image I have of myself for the coming weekend. It ain't pretty, folks. The contemplation of mortality that Moms the world over face when they stop and think.

Now, mind you, I have lots of fears about the actual death part. My life is so amazing, I'd be so sad to leave it early. But it is truly the fate of the kids that concerns me most. What does it say about me that I don't want my imaginary death/major stroke to inconvenience anyone? How sad is all this?

So, I told you THAT to tell you THIS...I am seriously considering imposing on my dearest and best friends who are camping in another state that weekend. I am seriously considering traipsing out into the woods and forcing these good and kind people to tolerate my children and myself for the weekend so that i don't have to be alone....if you know me at all, you know how dire the situation is for me to be considering camping. CAMPING. I don't DO outdoors. Bugs, peeing on trees, weather, blowup mattresses...it's all just so...idk...out of my realm of expertise and so out of my control and so difficult for me to handle. I like the outdoors...I do. I like stars and trees and fresh air, all in theory...but I just don't know. And also, that whole..."Oh yeah! Come with us!" in a sort of a ....oh geez, this could be bad voice...if I had something to contribute to the expedition, it might really be an option, but I fear we'd be the freeloading city folk wondering why Dora the Explorer isn't jumping out of the bushes to point the way to the ROJO BANA.

The second, and more likely scenario, is that my bestie, Rachie, will be calling me before the beginning of and after the conclusion of her graveyard shift at the hospital in Little Rock. Should I not answer, she will be calling 911. Now, I'm sure we can all see where this might go horribly wrong.

I will certainly not be sleeping well, and so, am likely to not hear the phone when Rachel calls in the a.m. Should this, in fact, happen, and she calls 911 and they show up...I'll be horrified when I answer the door in my underpants all wondering what's happened and THEY'LL be POed to have been sent to the house of the crazy lady who is incapable of being alone with her own children.

My friend, Audrey, is allegedly bringing her cutie of a daughter over for a girl's night to stave off the onslaught of insanity on Friday night, so we'll see. But I'm just saying, I blame Julia Roberts for this.