Do what the song says: Don't worry, be happy

Remember that song, Don’t Worry, Be Happy? If my memory is correct, the song also sparked the sale of smiley-face T-shirts that simply said: Don’t Worry, Be Happy. Ironically, I owned said T-shirt. I say ironically since I am one of the biggest worry warts on the face of the planet Earth.

Honestly, I worry about everything. I have been known to spend my days worrying. I worried so much over gas prices that I burst into tears one day that dear husband, who was known as dear boyfriend at the time, had to console me. My worrying abilities came to a head during my pregnancy. I worried over everything. I worried I was going to get listeria long before the listeria outbreak happened last summer. I worried if I was going to contract the West Nile Virus after getting bitten by a mosquito. Yep, I am surprised that darling daughter didn’t enter the world so neurotic that she wasn’t humming with nervous energy. Weirdly enough, she is one of the most laid back babies you’ll ever meet.

But you would think that my obsession over worrying would continue in my postpartum days, but that hasn’t been the case. I haven’t had many huge worries since darling daughter arrived last summer. Basically, I have been leading a worry-free life. It has been nice.

However, as darling daughter reaches her first year of life, I think my worry-free life will soon come to an end. And I saw my future when I was shopping for running shoes at the sports store yesterday. There was a family of four also looking at shoes -- mom, dad, older brother and younger sister. Both kids looked to be in their middle to early teenage years. While older brother reluctantly tried on running shoes, there was a glint in the eye of the younger child as she examined shoes. She picked up a pair and said, “these are only a hundred dollars,” before passing them over to her mother. Only a hundred dollars? Damn girl, I’ve been putting off buying new cross trainers for the last month because I’m too cheap to invest a hundred dollars into new shoes. I think the last time I bought new shoes may have been three years ago. The kid said her comment in a way that a hundred dollars is like ten or twenty dollars: easily spent without a second thought.

Then I started to worry. Is this is what darling daughter going to be like when she is a teenager? A child with expensive tastes? How can I afford to pay for her expensive tastes? Oh boy, I’m starting to hyperventilate as I write this.

Oh, but the worry train didn’t stop with that once incident. On the way home, I stopped for a red light at a traffic light. I looked over to my left and there was a large group of teenagers, about six or seven of them. I spot them carrying plain cardboard boxes with a little handle. Then I realize what was in these boxes: booze. These kids didn’t look to be much older than the girl in the shoe store. Do these kids parents know what they are up to?

Anyway, I know this is my future, and it scares me. I am in no hurry for darling daughter to grow up. Just witnessing these incidents make me want to enjoy every remaining last second of my daughter’s babyhood.