Sigh.
"Ah, yes," I say, with resignation.
"This is a normal stage," I reassure myself.
"It will pass, probably, just like the phase with the doll, the one who made the creepy wailing and opened its possessed-appearing eyes at odd intervals. Well, I thought that doll was scary, too, so it is only natural that she should. She likes the doll fine now; now that the batteries are not (ahem) part of its anatomy," I recall.
Sara has a phobia. An eye-popping, limb-flailing, butt-scooting, mom-climbing, sheer-terror inducing phobia.
The problem, actually, is the nature of the fear.
It is not spiders, snakes, or Barney.
It is not peas.
It is houseflies.
And it is August.
There is no getting away from this until November, when the little buzzing pests have snuggled down where ever they snuggle down to.
There is also no reasoning with her, as she scrambles away, completely terrified, poor kiddo. Guess it could be worse. It could be the color green or dog hair or bathwater.
I have the trusty vacuum at the ready. I think I will just keep it handy in the kitchen, wand extended, so I can step in with minimal fuss and dispatch the poor creature to the bowels of the machine. 3 have met their demise this way during today's breakfast.
I think that is the lot of them, for now. Until I open a door. Which has to happen, even if none of us stir from the house. Emma has needs, the leavings of which, of course, breed more flies.
Circle of life.
God, it's going to be a long 3 months.
"This is a normal stage," I reassure myself.
"It will pass, probably, just like the phase with the doll, the one who made the creepy wailing and opened its possessed-appearing eyes at odd intervals. Well, I thought that doll was scary, too, so it is only natural that she should. She likes the doll fine now; now that the batteries are not (ahem) part of its anatomy," I recall.
Sara has a phobia. An eye-popping, limb-flailing, butt-scooting, mom-climbing, sheer-terror inducing phobia.
The problem, actually, is the nature of the fear.
It is not spiders, snakes, or Barney.
It is not peas.
It is houseflies.
And it is August.
There is no getting away from this until November, when the little buzzing pests have snuggled down where ever they snuggle down to.
There is also no reasoning with her, as she scrambles away, completely terrified, poor kiddo. Guess it could be worse. It could be the color green or dog hair or bathwater.
I have the trusty vacuum at the ready. I think I will just keep it handy in the kitchen, wand extended, so I can step in with minimal fuss and dispatch the poor creature to the bowels of the machine. 3 have met their demise this way during today's breakfast.
I think that is the lot of them, for now. Until I open a door. Which has to happen, even if none of us stir from the house. Emma has needs, the leavings of which, of course, breed more flies.
Circle of life.
God, it's going to be a long 3 months.
Labels: Oddnesses, The Small-Handed Ones
posted by Diana at 8:52 AM
10 Comments:
Well, you flies do bite, after all...
I totally sympathize. My Boo, just this spring, developed an intense fear of bugs. Which was a problem, as her older sister collects them. Luckily, the phobia has all but disappeared. This, too, shall pass.
Sorry, but I think it is so darn cute - I can just a little toddler scrambling to get away from a fly. hehe
Um, just be glad that she is not afraid of grass. That would suck. Um, not that I was afraid of grass when I was a toddler. Nope. Not me.
Oh, that's rough. Poor kid.
Just wait. I'm sure she'll come up with some other fears. I am still terrified of escalators. And vampires. Because, you know, those vampires are everywhere.
Bless her heart! I agree that it could be worse.
Could be the dark. I was (and still am) petrified of the dark (and not just because those stinkin' vampires hang out in it!).
I went thru a phase where the lights had to be on not only in my room but in the hall and the bathroom AND the kitchen - should I have to get up in the night.
I was 12.
-Blue (what?!)
Oy, you poor thing! And the poor child! Three months?? I shall pray for y'all's sanity.
[Phobias, ha!! Well you know what mine is *insert hysterical laughter here* MOVING ON,nothing to see here!]
Teri- Well, that's true, the evil red-eyed flies do bite. I hadn't thought about that. I mean, I can tell the difference, can't the 2 year-old?
Cagey- Oh, yeah. Very cute. Then she starts to shriek and climb up the back of the chair and I must dash to her rescue. I feel so heroic, vacuum wand brandished, vanquishing the demonic fly.
Dana- I think you are right, which leads me to muse upon what is next. Maybe I shouldn't have been so flip about grass.
Blue- Colin has The Dark wrapped up. I actually have a spare night light in waiting so that when the current one dies, like happened 2 weeks ago, we are set. If not, he must have the bright light on, which leads to him covering his head with multiple heavy quilts, which freaks me the shit out. I have phobias of my kids smothering, of course, and need their little noses and mouths free. My phobias trump theirs.
Johnny- (whistling) Nope, don't know what you could be talking about. No-siree-Bob. lalalala. Why do I have the sudden urge to up to the wee lass and go, "bzzzzz, bzzzzz"? Poor kid, having me as a mom.
At least she's not scared of dogs. You can't vacuum them up.
I remember the days. Allie had a dog phobia for about a year. She was fine with dogs, until some people at the beach had their rotweiler unleashed and it charged and growled at her. She was 2 at the time and the dog was twice her size. Had to try to fight off the dog while holding her. The dogs owners were total a**holes. If I didn't have Allie with me, physical violence against these people would have ensued. It took awhile to ease her back into liking dogs.
I don't know if you can ease Sara into liking flies...
Flies are gross. Sara would be even more freaked out if she knew that flies upchuck onto every single thing they are going to eat so that it will be covered with vomit when they eat it and that their favorite things to eat are putrifying matter and poop.
Hmmm. Maybe she's actually aware of all that.
Teri- Given the vast amounts of dog hair I slurp up in the vacuum each week, you'd think I was sucking up a whole dog each time.
Stace- How terrifying! No excuse. None at all.
Rozanne- Yes, that would explain things if she were already aware. I wonder what Colin has been sharing with her. If it were me, I certainly would have told my sister. Double sigh.
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