So I spent some time this morning reading some of the “best mom blogs” forwarded to me by a publicist I’m considering hiring.  She’s not quite sure she wants to be hired by me yet, though, because I didn’t have a single blog posted on my brand new website.  Worse yet, I’d never even looked at a blog much less read, analyzed, compared, or scrutinized someone else’s.  Hence today’s homework assignment.

I gotta tell you, I’m fascinated by this whole mommy blogging concept.  Some women are hysterical.  Makes me want to buy their books–and makes me want to learn how to blog myself so people will feel that way about mine!  Some were kinda preachy, while others seemed to be just an excuse to post cute pictures of their kids.  But what I loved best about my perusing was that there seemed to be no rules about what I could write about.  Observations about life, funny daily anecdotes, advice on potty training.  Absolutely anything seemed game.

So, I’m sure my blogs will evolve over time and hopefully at some point I’ll have followers other than my immediate family, but it sure seems like this blogging thing will be right up my alley.

Today, for instance, let me dwell for a moment on my being a worrier.  Lots of people are worriers, I know, but I take it to Olympic levels.  I woke up with a start this morning because of this thought:  the kids’ are leaving for a two week trip to Spain that their dad has planned for them for almost two years…and David has a soccer game later today…what if he gets hurt?!?!  It will ruin the trip!

Irrational worrying? I think not.

Ok, or maybe it’s a tiny bit irrational, but that’s the kind of shit that clogs my brain and wakes me up.  When was the last time David got hurt on a soccer field?  Never.  And yet I’m considering telling him not to go to the game today just in case.  Surely other moms out there are shaking their heads, “Yep, I totally understand.  I’d consider keeping him home too.” At least I hope that’s the case.

I’m not totally psychotic when it comes to fearing soccer injuries; there is a solid basis for it.  My daughter Skylar is a soccer superstar (tried out for the US National team even) and got a concussion Sept. 6, 2013.  She missed the entire first semester of her freshman year of high school and wasn’t cleared to play soccer again until April.  Talk about a long recovery (which I’ll share in another blog…)  So my insane fear of injury on the soccer field does have a legitimate basis.

But do I let the worry overpower the rational?  David himself is a worrier and making him miss the game might (will) reinforce the crazy rather than the likely (HE’LL BE FINE!)  And yet, the kernel of worry is there today and I can’t seem to shake it…