Nightmares in Parenting

The funny thing about social phobia is that even when you think you’ve kind of escaped it, you really haven’t. If social phobia (or social anxiety or shyness or whatever you want to call it) was an NBA player, it would definitely be in the running for the Comeback Player of the Year award. 

I think what happens, really, is that once you enter middle adulthood, you start to forget about, little by little, how crushing that anxiety was when you were younger and constantly forced to perform. In school, in finding jobs, in trying (or not) to make friends and date. Once you hit your 30s, a lot of the forced performance is behind you. Through a combination of treatment and life choices, you can settle in and manage. I have become an All-Pro avoider. Situations that make me uncomfortable—parties, groups, talking on the phone, interviews—I’m kind of done with those. As much as I can avoid things like that, I do. And, you know what? It’s been working. 

In Defense of the Predictable

“Pretend that you think you left Jacob at Betsy’s house,” said recently turned four-year-old Jacob.

“OK,” I replied.

“Tell Mommy!” he whispered loudly. 

“Oh no, I think we left Jacob at Betsy’s!” I feel like I nailed it. Much like a Broadway actor in the final performance of a long running show, my delivery was so fresh you would never guess I had delivered this same line about 100 times in the last day and a half. 

“Ahhh!” Mommy responded gamely. “We have to drive back and get him right now!”

I took the car keys out of my pocket and tossed them across the room to her. It was off script, but I can be pretty bold with my improvisations. I feel like it really added something.

Jacob pulled the blanket off his head revealing his smiling-like-a-possum face.

“I’m here!”

“Oh thank goodness,” I replied with great relief. “We thought we forgot you.”

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