July 18, 2012
I am terrified of frogs. It’s a nonsensical but truly debilitating fear I’ve lived with for as long as I can remember. I recently met someone else who shares my fear. We are considering a support group.
But here’s the deal. My sons LOVE frogs. They pretend to be frogs, they always want to find frogs, they like to ribbit like frogs. No other animal captivates them in the same way. WHY?
I realized when I became a mother that one day I’d have to tackle this fear. Someday soon when their little hands become more adept they’ll pick one up one of the toads from the garden and carry it to me proudly, and I’ll have to try and not hyperventilate or loose bladder control. And from a purely theoretical perspective I know that frogs are great creatures, especially environmentally speaking. The garden needs frogs. But my fear is greater than my logic.
So recently I decided I’d give myself some art therapy and attempt to knit a frog. As I tried to figure out the design for his body I made myself think about frog bodies and legs—the way they are formed and the way they move. This was not fun for me. I persevered.
I’m a beginning knitter at best, so my frog looks nothing whatsoever like a real frog. My friend Dawn says it’s a “pickle bee.”
Thankfully, G and E adore him and consider him a frog. They even took up for the little creature at library story hour yesterday. I was finishing up some of the minor details on his legs when another kid asked me what I was making. When I said “frog,” he looked skeptical and disagreed.
“It is frog maybe,” E explained to his new friend. I beamed.
So today while the boys were sleeping I set Mr. Frog on the porch by the flowers for a photo shoot and he kindly obliged. If this whole writing/research thing doesn’t work out I’m going to open up an ambiguous animals store on Etsy.