Mommy, I'm OK.

Last month, Mackenzie had an experience at school where she heard "thunder" and has been set on a tail spin of fear. She is afraid of everything these days. Thunder is the blanket term she uses for things that scare her. Of course, actual thunder is #1 on her list. I'm having a hard time these days making the world less scary for her. She spends a lot of her time banging on her chest saying, "Mommy, I'm OK." That means, "Mom, I'm freaking out here."

Brian was reading Where the Wild Things Are the other night and Mack was banging her chest while he was reading. She was afraid. And so it goes...Auto-flush public toilets. Hand driers. Chairs scooting on tile floors. Light reflecting on her wall in her room. The hook on her ceiling where the mobile once hung. The eyes of the owl Nana bought her. Thunder. Rain. Sirens. Smoke. Steam. Certain music. Guitar feedback. Loud surf. The White Lady...

I'm trapped by these fears because mommy nearby is a must to help deal. Of course I don't mind. OK, I mind a little. Every single thing in our day has to be predictable, prepared for, and purposeful. It has to be done in order with no surprises. Bedtime means that her Dalmatian leans on her curtain so the nightlight doesn't shine on her wall. Two nightlights. One blue and one white. Fan on. No cracks in the curtains. Music on, but it has to be the right song and don't make it too loud. Mommy, the owl is looking at me. No mommy that book can't be there. Wait, my neck hurts. I'm OK. Mommy, I'm itchy. I'm OK. There is light on my wall, Mommy. I'm OK. Mommy, there's no thunder. It's OK. I'm OK.

I don't sleep with her. I don't lay with her until she sleeps. I calmly shut the door after reassuring her that she is in fact OK. I wait 5 minutes. I go in again and tell her again that she is OK. I wait 10 min. She cries in fear for a long time some nights. But, that is OK. She's going to get through this. We are going to get through this.