The worry gene. Let me explain.

Men are from Mars and women are from Venus takes on a whole new meaning when these planets become parents. In my head, it translates to dads are from Lala-land and women are from Paranoiaville. Something just happens to us when we become moms and it seems to get worse with age (in my case anyway). It’s some uncontrollable feeling that doom is lurking around every corner, waiting to harm our babies.

Let’s break this down mathematically (because that’s totally not my strong suit so of course we should do it this way) to understand the effects this simple chromosomal difference has on us as parents.

XY + parenthood = let them be kids

XX + parenthood = if they step outside this house, or move, doom is sure to follow

Exaggeration? Not really in this house. This difference is apparent in all families from what I’ve seen, but here? It’s a raging issue.

Case in point: We live in a nice gated community. Our neighbors are nice. We have a lovely playground that we can see clearly (and closely I might add, we could get there in less than a minute if needed) from our balcony. B is completely comfortable walking the babies down to said playground, leaving them there, and returning to sit on our balcony to watch them play. I mean, what could happen right?

WHAT COULD HAPPEN?

Well, a creepy white van with no windows could drive up and the sociopathic driver could snatch them and take them away forever. Or one of them could fall and impale themselves on the playground equipment. Or, since we live on a beach, obviously a freak tidal wave carrying a school of shark could consume them, and there’s no way they’d get out of that mess. Or a pelican (have you seen the size of those things?) could swoop in and decide they looked like the perfect snack. OR a fire-breathing dragon could descend from the sky and attack my babies with me just helplessly watching from the balcony.

THAT’S what could happen!

Yes, I actually go there. I think many of us in the Double X Sisterhood do. We don’t mean to. We don’t want to. Sure, let them be kids.

Well, yes, BUT NO!

These things are real, in my head, and it’s my job to protect them and carry them safely and happily into adulthood. So protect them I will from the creepy sociopaths in the windowless vans, impaling playground equipment, freak tidal waves carrying schools of shark, those pelicans (seriously, those things are HUGE), and the fire-breathing dragons.

I’m a mom. That’s what I do, and my worry gene gives me super powers to worry perform my job well.

So dads out there (and B in particular), we know you love your babies. We know you worry. There’s never any doubt that you only want what’s best for the kids and you want them to enjoy life. But guess what? This is how we’re made. That Double X string kicked into high gear the very SECOND we laid eyes on our first baby and it’s not going anywhere.

And kids, if you’re listening (especially mine because I know you think I’m too overprotective sometimes), moms don’t mean to restrict you. We were made to worry to keep you safe from whatever life throws at you. That’s what we do. Because, you know…tidal waves, schools of shark, pelicans, fire-breathing dragons, and stuff.

This is just one of those sorry, not sorry moments. I’m a mom. I’m doing my job. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go zip up those babies’ bubbles. I think I hear pelicans coming!