Flashforward to last week when me using the broiler caused a melt down like I'd never seen. "What happened?" Nate asked. "I made a tuna melt?" I said. Daily she's been freaking out when I turn on the stove, not just screaming or crying but running out the front door. The other day she ran out without a stitch of clothes on. She didn't care! That's not the only thing she's afraid of, a recent fascination with earthquakes and tornadoes is now a constant battle against every type of sound that resembles a siren.
I'm learning it's a phase, a natural part of learning about life. I do believe its a good survival mechanism. We've been praying with her, for her, over her coupled with lots of talking. We're learning healthy attitudes and behaviors toward storms and strangers. Our family definitely has fire plan now. Thankfully, Nate is home during this time but the fear is creeping into all our lives. I miss cooking with my little girl. This week, Nate made popcorn after she went to bed to avoid a scene. No alarms or anything, just the faintest hint of cooking smells. This time I was prepared. Taking a position by the front door, in a blink of an eye, I caught a frantic four-year-old trying to make a break for it! Sigh. . . I miss my super hero!