The Only Thing We Have To Fear

So the only thing we have to fear is the fear of being afraid, or something like that. At least that's what we are taught as adults, to be fearless, to face our fears. But we only have some fears because as children we were taught to fear by adults. I know because now I am the fear-teacher and though I know it is necessary, it is not a role I relish. The obvious place to start was with the stove and with fire and Jude has been taught about "hot" since he first began to crawl. We never had a problem. When the oven is on or a candle is lit up on a counter, Jude will point to it and say "hot." Earlier this week, though, we took Jude for a walk around the neighborhood. His little legs like to carry him ahead of us, so we have to remind him to walk with us. Then, he ran ahead of us, toward the street, which causes the parental brain to contemplate all sorts of ugly scenarios, none of which I need to describe here. Screw all of the "face your fear" stuff that you hear on televison or read in self-help books; if you are a parent (at least a decent parent) you are afraid a good deal of the time. Said fear causes you to become more protective (or even overly protective) sometimes. Of course, then, part of the job consists of instilling fear in your child to keep him or her safe since you literally cannot be with the child every minute. We had to tell Jude repeatedly not to go near the street since he could get hit by a car, that he is short and a car might not be able to see him. We kept walking and Jude stopped suddenly and held his arms out to Jeff, saying "I want up." Jeff picked him up and in that tiny Jude voice, Jude said "Car not hit me." We could not convince him to walk at all on the rest of the trip. It was a briefly good feeling, knowing that he actually listened and absorbed what we were telling him, followed by a sinking ugly feeling, knowing that Jude was afraid of something, knowing that we had to make him afraid. Necessary, but not pleasant. Now, though, each time we are in a parking lot, he comes gladly to me or to Jeff, saying "Car not hit me" instead of running off ahead of us as he may have wanted to in the past.
In other fear news, my fear of never seeing another movie I would like seems to be behind me. Last weekend, Jeff and I headed off to the theater for a fear-related movie: Zodiac. This movie is of-course about astrology. Wait, no. It is about the Zodiac killer, the kind gentleman who haunted the San Francisco area in the 1960 's and 70's. Jeff read the Zodiac books and was eager to see the film; I had not read the books but was eager to see Jake Gyllenhaal, so there was something for everyone. I found it to be an engaging, intelligent film with lots of Gyllenhaal, so I liked it very much. It is really less about the killer himself than about the cops and newspaper folk with whom he was fond of toying. Very good film. I also saw the feel-bad movie of the year yesterday: Babel. I think it was a very good film, but very depressing. Very, very depressing. Very good script, though and excellent acting. Did I mention, though, that it is sad? I'm afraid I won't be watching it again any time soon. Next up, kiddies, is Borat. I am hoping that I laugh, but not to the point of laughing until I hurt. I am always afraid of doing that.