I have a disease.....

My answer to the "p" portion of my last blog really got me thinking about all the diverse phobias that I harbor inside my crazy head. This pondering brought me to the conclusion that I have a disease.
Acrophobia.
This, simply defined, is "an extreme or irrational fear of heights". Now I know what you are all thinking, everyone is somewhat afraid of heights, right? After all, it is one of the only natural fears we have from birth, that and a fear of loud noises. But I believe that my fear has escalated to that beyond what would be deemed natural.
Truthfully, I want to be cool and do cool things like go skydiving with my husband or take big leaps off of large cliffs into the beautiful sparkling ocean waters below. But I must be honest with myself, this cannot be. (Though I do believe that I may have jumped off of a cliff of some sort in St. George once but the memory is fuzzy so I can't be sure).
My Acrophobia has been finely tuned by becoming a mother. Now not only do I have to worry about myself tumbling helplessly from various stories, ledges, railings, etc., but now I must constantly obsess over the possibility that my small children will somehow slip from my grasp during these same hazardous circumstances.
This seriously hinders my (and my children's) enjoyment of certain occasions. Take for example the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse at Disneyland (which I believe now is called Tarzan or something). They call that thing a children's attraction?! Small rickety stairs and winding cramped passages that for some reason slant down OUT from the tree rather than INTO the tree which would surely be much safer and logical. The last time I went on that thing I nearly had a panic attack that threatened to shut down the whole park. Though Ashton would have loved to explore the fascinating replicas of jungle life that occupy all the nooks and crannies of the surprisingly enormous tree, he was instead glued to my hip and instantly rebuffed if he tried to wander even a fraction of an inch.
Considering this debilitating fear, I wonder why that I enjoy roller coasters so much. For some reason, I have an infallible trust for those mechanical restraints that secure me to my seat as if there is no possibility that they can malfunction and I will go flying across the parking lot. Except for the Samurai at Lagoon, that thing is insanity disguised as a thrilling amusement park attraction. Throwing passengers every which way at 100mph, it is sick in every sense of the word. Overhead restraints should secure you safely to your seat NOT be the only thing keeping you and thousands of pounds of inertia from....flying across the parking lot. But despite that evil ride and even the Sky Ride whose attendants willingly allow small unaccompanied children to board and ride for several minutes 60feet above concrete unrestrained, this is the most fearful ride of all:



That enormous Ferris wheel whose flimsy little "gondolas" hold you captive for half an hour at least with frequent stops that always have you hovering, swinging even, hundreds of feet above ground. Why are there no seatbelts of any kind in this ride? If I'm going down, I want to at least be secured to the metal entrapment that brought me up there. I can't stand my children going on that ride, I feel physically ill just imagining it and in fact, shed tears at the entrance last year during the entire time David took Ashton and his cousin Jaden on the ride.
And lest you think that my fear manifestations are luckily reserved only for the rare occasional visit to an amusement park, their influence tortures me daily from everywhere to multi-level malls with insubstantial barriers lining the upper floors to my own home where the second story hallway looms precariously over the living room below. I dread the day when Ashton becomes more adventurous and sees the railing as the perfect slide.
I need a cure for this quick, I have two rambunctious boys that are growing up fast and a sissy mom just won't do.