The Forest, The Trees and Freak Napalming Incidents

I've always been a worrier -- full of anxiety, ready to see that Parade of Horribles wherever I go.  My mom used to call me "Very Worried Walrus" after the Sweet Pickles book.  My list of worries is long-lived and long-limbed, like a giant tree, well, many trees to go with the many different, yet inter-related worries.  Or, maybe it's a web of webs.  I'm sure there's a metaphor in here somewhere.

My biggest worry changes from day-to-day, hour-to-hour, and minute-to-minute.  Here's the top few currently:

1. I'm eating like there's no tomorrow; I'm going to gain back all this weight; I've gotta stop.
2. R has had the never-ending daycare cold with alternating runny and stuffy nose and cough for 2 weeks.
3. I need to make sure that I have my parents and JD's parents record a story or something for R so that he has something to remember them by when they pass.  (Not that this will happen soon, G-D forbid, I'm just worrying about it).  Really, this extends to all family members and friends cause you never know when they will die in some freak napalming incident.
4. Need to write letters to R and a document detailing all I want for him and want for him to learn in the event of my early death in some freak napalming incident.
5. The baby's clothes will never become clean and are horribly stained with spit-up.  (Deeper meaning: I am a horrible mother; This is a large section of the forest/web/whichever metaphor you prefer).
6. I am neither able to iron nor light matches and what does this say about me as a person?

I do have faith, though.  Faith in myself; faith in G-D; faith that somehow I'll muddle through all of this.  I just think, somehow, this will all work itself out because it has to.  It may not end how I wish it, but there will be an end somewhere.