The truth of why I meditate

I am terrified today. Stressed out. Wishing that maybe a car would hit me and then everything would be ok. Why? Because I'm in charge of a 6th grade Christmas party tonight and I am so far out of my element it's not even funny. My son and his friends planned the party, and we're renting a room and a sound system and serving snacks and we'll have balloons and music and fun. But honestly, all I can see is what might go wrong. What if nobody has fun and this is the worst thing in my son's life? And because I'm the "point man" on this, I feel so responsible for it and if it goes bad, it's on me. And I don't know what to have the kids do. And my husband keeps asking me questions that I don't know the answer to: how are we handling the music? Shouldn't there be some games. I DON'T KNOW! I HAVE NO IDEA!

So that's why I want to be hit by a car. Because then I have a completely legitimate excuse as to why the party has to be called off. And nobody will get hurt. Well, except for me. But that's ok.

I really do understand that there's another way to look at this. My son, through his perserverence and determination, has managed to create an event that has the entire 6th grade (90 kids) excited and happy to anticipate. And it looks like half of them will be at the party. That's amazing! My kid found the room. He called DJs and caterers (but all were way too expensive, so we've found other ways to do this, but still -- he took the initiative). And he's beyond excited. But I feel like I can barely breathe and I'm so scared I can taste it.

So that's why I meditate. To try to find a different way to deal with all of this. Oh, and today's meditation really could be called a worry session. But that's just semantics, right?

I'll let you know how it goes.