I've become one of those people..

Despite the fact that I appear to be somewhat level headed and relaxed (stop snickering), I always knew I would be somewhat paranoid as a parent.  By that I mean, I always knew it would be hard for me to take RM out to crowded places, particularly when she's still little, because I would be terrified to get separated from her.  I have always been this way.  As a babysitter, I couldn't let my charges out of my sight (unless they were asleep) and when I would take my nephew or niece anywhere when they were little, I always felt I had to be holding their hand or something in order to assure myself I wouldn't lose them.

I have always wondered how I got to be this way because my parents were not.  My brother and I were pretty much allowed to play freely throughout the neighborhood: we would play hide and seek and set the "boundaries" to be about a 2 block radius around home base; we were allowed to go downtown to the movies, library, or toy stores on our own; we were allowed to ride our bikes around the neighborhood (but since my parents never defined what they meant by "the neighborhood", we pretty much interpreted that to be anywhere within the city limits and, as such, we would ride our bikes everywhere and would, at times, play chicken while riding the yellow lines down Main Street.  By "chicken", I mean you had to ride with "no hands" and the first one to grab their handlebars lost.  Mom and dad, if you're reading this, it was all Chris' idea).  When I got to high school, I was pretty much allowed to go where I wanted and college...well, college was just a free for all.  Let's just say that by the time I got to college, the "boundaries" were anywhere within the continental United States (Again, mom and dad if you're reading this, it wasn't my idea).

Given my experiences and how much fun all of them were, I'm not really sure why I am such a freak when it comes to RM.  I do know, however, that unless she's at school where other adults are watching her, she will never be out of my sight.  I know that's not healthy; not for her and not for me.  Perhaps I will have to resume my life of heavy alcohol consumption to get me past the hump.  I don't know, but I am going to have one of those identification chips they put in your pets, implanted under her skin.  Hers is going to have a GPS function in it so that I can just turn it on, like a LoJack, and be able to locate her exact position within minutes.  Now that she's little, the GPS thing will just be an added measure of security to help keep her safe from some of the disgusting creeps that are out there.  When she gets a bit older, the GPS thing will help me track her down when she says she's at "a friend's house" and neglects to tell me that her friend is actually a guy who is having a house party for 100 of his closest friends and is co-hosting the party with Jack, Jose, and Bud.  When she moves away from home, the GPS will alert me when she has left the state where she is supposed to be.  It will kind of work like an ankle monitoring bracelet that will notify me when she has violated the terms of her release and has left my pre-approved area.  Damn.  I think I just felt the color fall out of a few more of my hairs.  Damn.

Anyway, what all of my paranoia means is that, while she is still as little as she is, I have the baby monitor on all the time, I don't open her bedroom windows more than a couple of inches (and even then I have the security locks on them), and when we are in a crowded place, I prefer to have her stay in her stroller.  That approach used to work out really well, but since she has figured out that she can use her legs to propel her quickly in any direction she pleases, the stroller is not as sufficient for her as it once was.  Basically, what this means is that she'll be in her stroller for a few minutes before screaming at the top of her lungs and acting as if I am killing her favorite toys and the only thing that will appease her is to let her out of her stroller.  Now, I used to be one of those people that would see parents using the safety harnesses on their kids and think, "Why do those people have their kid on a leash?  That's ridiculous! That kid is going to have some serious issues when he gets older".  But now, having an absolutely precious child of my own, I see how people could not only want to use a harness, but I could see myself duct taping her to my chest if I thought no one would call DCF on me.  With that being said, Nicole and I took RM to the Big E this year (you know, the big state fair in Massachusetts) and with all the people that were there, I broke down and did this to my child:

 Yep.  Yes, I did.  And, no, your eyes are not playing tricks on you.  That is a harness.  I have my kid on a leash.  I do.  And, yes, the leash is a dog.  Ironic, isn't it.  Sorry, baby girl.  I will get you in to therapy when the time comes.