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Friday, April 14, 2006


I waited a long time for warm weather to be able to go outside with both the kids. However, 88 degrees is a little warmer than I wanted, especially in April. I suppose it sounds like I can never be happy. I am able to be happy though. In fact, I would be absolutely thrilled if it would be 68 and sunny, but not windy.

In light of the warm weather and overall mild winter, we have a troubling issue on our hands: BUGS! Anyone who knows me at all knows that I've never been a big fan. I am, in fact, a cockroach-phobic. And anything resembling a cockroach sends me into crazy, freakish emotional and behavioral symptoms. My skin tingles and crawls with the willies, I feel lightheaded and panicky, and I suffer PTSD like flashbacks if faced with one. But that's only with cockroaches and anything resembling them. Don't even get me started on those gosh-awful flying coackroach-like creatures that will begin their annual hatch and infestation oh too soon. I have, however, met my match with Dear Daughter, who is going through a phase (I hope it's only a phase) of bug-o-phobia that applies to anything and EVERYTHING that remotely resembles a bug. It includes tiny pieces of fuzz or lint on the carpet, flecks of dust in the air, and of course anything outdoors that moves. It's driving me absolutely buggy (ha)! Lately, if we are going to go outdoors and finally enjoy the spring weather, I have to get Dear Daughter all pepped about being "brave" and try to convince her the bugs won't hurt her (while inside I feel a twinge of hypocrisy as I consider my own issues with certain species of bugs).

Yesterday I felt like I was torturing Dear Daughter with cruel and unusual punishment for insisting that, like it or not, we were going for a walk. She was all excited about the walk until a tiny gnat crossed her path before we even got out of the driveway. She had a major freak-out complete with the little dancing about maneuver that was oh-so-familiar to my own little jig when the flying, buzzing, beetle was stalking me in my bedroom last year. Nonetheless, this was a gnat. A tiny little fleck of nothing. Dear Daughter got on her seat in the sit-n-stand stroller and faced me with her little hands wrapped tightly around each of my hands the entire time for comfort. Whenever a breeze brushed her skin, she had a repeat of the freak-out response.

I really am hopeful this phase passes so we can enjoy the warmer months a bit. And I really am not looking forward to the self-control I will have to exhibit, myself, when those flying cockroaches start to appear. I did pretty well last year whenever Dear Daughter was around, but last year she wasn't bug-phobic. She will be extra-extra-sensitive this year. Hmmm...maybe I better go hang out those flying beetle bag traps today.

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