Storms that aren't so much.

Lately, it seems that I've climbed the slippery slope of anxiety over coming storms and epidemics only to find they're not so much after all.

Darkening skies, dire warnings of an incoming derecho (new word for the Knitternalls - sideways tornado-strength winds), frequent weather alerts, and . . . a few claps of thunder and one downburst and it's over.

Media hysteria over one, two, eight cases of Swine Flu, schools closing, and advisories to stock up on face masks, hand sanitizer, and 10 days' supply of food and water for the family, and . . . it's still spreading, but it's not nearly as dreadful as the 20th century Spanish Flu pandemic.

I KNOW the media is indulging in audience-grabbing news coverage. I KNOW it's rare that dire warnings turn into actual calamity. But I slide up and down that slippery slope anyway because I'm a mom. It's my job to get worried, plan ahead for any contingency, sanitize the house, and watch the skies for funnel clouds and downbursts. I like to believe that if I'm prepared enough, I can control the outcome of any situation.

So what if I overreacted.

I'm just going to do it again.