ABOUT WOMEN
Routine of everyday life helps family cope with fear of war

By Christie Wilson
Advertiser Staff Writer

Every morning, I wake up to the 6:30 news on the clock radio and bury myself under the covers while waiting to hear if the war has started. Or worse.

"In Washington today, President Bush called on congressional leaders ... "

So far so good.

I throw off the blanket and rise sluggishly to my feet. The children are gently nudged awake and allowed to spend an extra few moments snug in the warmth and security of their beds while I shuffle to the kitchen to get the cereal bowls out, slice up a banana and pop the Eggo waffles into the toaster.

The start of another day filled with the minutiae of family life. Thank you, Lord.

The children seem unaffected by world events that are taking up an increasing amount of my consciousness. On this day, the teenager is wondering what she's going to wear to her high school paddling banquet, and the boy, as usual, has just one thought on his mind — candy.

I'm wondering what I would do if the news on the radio confirmed my worst fears. Rush to the store and max out my credit cards on Spam, rice, water and toilet paper? Book fours seats on the first flight out to a sparsely populated South Pacific island? Seek refuge at a church, like the characters in "War of the Worlds" did when global annihilation seemed inevitable?

Even without a dire scenario, we've already indefinitely postponed family vacations involving trans-Pacific air travel, and as far as sending the teenager to college, the in-state schools closer to home are looking better and better. We no longer indulge the boy's fantasies of being a fighter pilot. Sorry, but I'm selfish that way.

During the last "orange" alert and the escalating hostility between the United States and Iraq and North Korea, I considered for the first time whether maybe it would be a good idea to pick up a few cases of bottled water and canned food — just in case.

In other words, I got scared. I hated myself for it.

Maybe I'm overreacting, but I don't have a frame of reference for this sort of thing. I'm too young to remember the Red Scare of the '50s or the Cuban missile crisis of the '60s. And, Vietnam and all the miniwars since then were regional affairs in faraway lands that never threatened to spill over onto American soil.

The recent realization that it seems likely that during my lifetime, somebody, somewhere will detonate a nuclear bomb or unleash biological or chemical weapons brings on brief bouts of deep sadness that my children will have to live in such a world.

As a mother, my No. 1 job is to keep my kids safe. Now I'm not sure I can do that.

But at the end of the day, there isn't much time to wallow in fear and self-doubt. There's dinner and homework, and after washing up, we settle down to read the latest chapter of "Captain Underpants."

The bedtime ritual ends with the prayer, "Now I lay me down to sleep ... "

At least overnight, until the clock radio clicks on again in the dim light of morning, our world is at peace.