robbers

Hyrum is obsessed with robbers.  He wants to know "Who robbers rob?  How many robbers are in Alaska?  Why do they drive black cars and black wear masks?"  Robbers keep him up and night.  We have several weekly conversations about robbers, and how robbers usually only rob houses with expensive things and houses that don't have people inside.  We talk about our great house (which doesn't hold a single robber appealing item) and our great neighbors and Hy's great big protective brothers that sleep in the bedroom next door.  I'm trying to reinforce the truth but I'm not sure it is helping.

Hy is my kid with anxiety.  Lots of anxiety.  He doesn't like new things.  He doesn't like to be the center of attention.  He's shy.  And he worries.  Worries about monsters and robbers and the dark.  Worries about fires and bad guys and nightmares.  Worries about noises and things hiding in his closet.  Lately he's complained about tummy aches and I wonder if it has anything to do with those pesky robbers.  

Eric grew up with a whole heap of anxiety, but this is an entirely new concept to me.  I grew up easy-going and carefree.  My biggest fear as a child was getting a dead arm from my sister Kari or getting caught sneaking to Macey's to buy candy . . . both could easily be avoided with a certain amount of stealth.  Compassion isn't my greatest strength and I fight the urge to say, "Get over it." and to replace it with long talks and longer back scratches. 

Hy's a brilliant kid.  He's feisty and creative and sensitive.  I suppose if robbers are his big hang-up right now, then robbers it is and we'll have to face them head on, day by day, together. . . one evening at a time.