Phobias

As much as I love the summer time, it brings one of my biggest fears to the forefront.

Spiders.

I am a true arachnophobe.  I get nervous when I see a spider.  My heart does a funny skip and my breath catches, if I think it is going to jump at me.  I have put enough thought into it that I realize it is the legs that creep me out.  Daddy Longlegs don't seem to bother me as much, since they have skinny little legs and small bodies.   It's the big thick hairy legs and the huge bodies that freak me out. 

I hate them.  Alot.

Today, when Sebastian got his cast done, the tech and I were talking.  His girlfriend is afraid of spiders as well.  He asked if I have spider sense.  I knew exactly what he was talking about.  I can walk into any room, and spot the spider almost instantaneously.  I scan the corners of every room, looking for spiders.  I can see them when no one else can.

I have a memory- I am not sure if it is real, or if I have modified it over the years.  I remember laying in my bed, I was about 6 or 7, I think.  The hall light was on, and my dad came to the door, either to say good night, or to see if I was asleep.  I remember him saying something like "Oh my god" or something like that.  He called for my mother, and came into the room.  Very quickly, he shook me awake, gathered me up and shooshed me into the hallway.  As I stood in the hallway, I saw my mom come running, and my dad flicked on my light. 

My ceiling was covered in moving black spots.  Baby spiders.  Hundreds of them.

Now I am sure that my imagination has exaggerated the number.  I'm sure. But to this day, I occassionally have nightmares where I am walking through rooms or hallways, with spiders dropping from the ceiling into my hair.  It is horrifying.

I try to be brave for my kids.  I don't want them to adopt my fears.  I don't want to freak them out. 

When Sawyer was still a newborn, I had my own batch of baby spiders.  She was asleep in the cradle in my room, and I think Sebastian was napping in his room.  On my way to the bathroom, I looked up (as I always do- scanning for spiders) and saw these weird dots.  Sure enough, dozens of baby spiders covered the walls and ceiling of the hallway.  I ran into the bathroom and shut the door.  After about 10 seconds of sheer and utter panic, I gave my head a shake.  The only- ONLY- thing that got me to go back into that hallway, was the thought of those spiders finding my kids.  I was brave for them.  I know this is ridiculous, and sounds melodramatic, but I felt brave when I killed them.  It was so hard for me, but I did it for my kids.

Last week, we had another group of baby spiders in the front hall.  I was running out for groceries when I saw them.  I yelled to Geoff to please kill them.  When I got back, they were still there.  It hurt my feelings that he didn't take me seriously enough to kill them before I got home (I was only gone about 15 minutes or so).  He tends to roll his eyes alot and sigh heavily when I call him, yet again, to kill a spider.  I know he thinks it is stupid.  So I try not to bother him with it.  And that night, as I climbed on the chair and worked my way around the hall, squishing the stupid little fuckers with a kleenex, I was a little bitter.  But oh well...I guess it just makes me stronger.

I have a weird habit of killing spiders and leaving their bodies on the wall or ceiling as a kind of warning to other spiders, that this is a bad place for them.  They will die here, and should just stay away.  I don't know if it works.  But I hope it does.

So if you ever come to my house, and see dead spiders, you know it isn't neglectful house keeping.  It is my "No Tresspassing" sign.

And if I ever ask you to kill one for me, do me a favour.  Just do it.  I will be ever thankful.

Rosie N. Grey

The N stands for "no good for nuthin'."