chronic worry and dancing mooses

so this mom comes into the classroom and stares out the window at her son (freezing cold, but running blissfully as if the wind doesn't even matter). she smiles. then laughs. then hesitates a second longer before she reaches for the door to call him inside. 

and all i can do is stare and stare and stare. maybe i should be thrilled, but mostly i am just terrified of my own possible/probable future. mom future.

                          i work at a preschool called The Dancing Moose now (and talk of "moose legs" and "moose arms" as if it's the most important terminology i have ever known). 

without getting too far ahead of myself (dating, of course, being step one), my fear of motherhood is suddenly kissing me right on the hand, traveling up my arm, and making its way into my heart. as in, working at a preschool teaches you things. like how sometimes a 4 yr old cries and says "my grandma has no hair. she lost it all because the pills were strong" and you want to cry with her because your grandma had cancer once, too. you learn pretty quickly that learning disabilities are really hard and that singing songs about a bay where watermelons grow has this way of making you want an afternoon snack RIGHT NOW. it also teaches you (and by you, i mean me) that being in charge of helping a kid grow up is not like taking someone's order at JCW. 

so being a mom is terrifying. i work for 8 hours. the kids nap for 2 of those. i go home and do my own thing. but moms don't ever get to stop worrying about why their kid won't stop crying/why their kid still can't read/why their kid keeps hitting/why their kid has no friends/etc etc etc. and so how do you even stay sane when you're always like: "is my kid safe? does his teacher actually know what he/she is doing? what if he falls on the ice and no one realizes he has a concussion? how do i teach her to be both independent and cooperative? what about this speech impediment? is it normal that she is 4 and still sucks her thumb? i could go on."

motherhood makes me feel like an actual dancing moose: awkward. uncoordinated.  bulky. strange.

is it bad to admit to a fear of dancing? if so, at least i am an expert in resolving pee accidents.