The Art of Smart Defense

     When I was younger, heck, who am I kidding, even now that I'm mostly grown, I was/am an extremely passive person.  I was told the following phrase when I was younger from someone (and if they read this they will instantly know it was them, *wink wink*) and please, pardon the language, "You wouldn't say s*^t if you had a mouth full of it."  Yup, that pretty much summed up my personal defense skills to a "T".  I remember thinking, first of all, that was the grossest thing I'd ever heard, and two, it was very accurate.  I was a doormat for quite a few people. Walked all over because I was too nice, made fun of, poked fun toward, and yes, mostly right in front of me.  You know how some people can be, they want to impress someone or appear funny so it's aimed at your expense since hey, let's face it, you'll just stand there and take it.  But with my mentality, I just shrugged it off because I knew they were only trying to be "cool" and in my mind it was immature.  Less I digress and I really don't need to go back to aspects of childhood right now.  I was always better at standing up for others than for myself.  I have no idea why, it was just easier I guess.  I've never really experienced such an emotion as being aggressive or outspoken.  And why would I?  It wasn't in my nature.  But let me tell you, and many parents/caregivers, etc., will most certainly agree; it doesn't matter if you're the aggressive type, passive, quiet, reserved, don't give a hoot what anyone thinks; someone, anyone is rude or degrading to your babies, you go from zero to Incredible Hulk in point two seconds.  And I'm letting little bits of my Hulk out more and more lately.  Scared?  Boy, I know I am.

     Miss G is a social butterfly; she's sweet, friendly, calls kids she just meets her "best friends".  It makes my heart swell, truly.  For a little person to be so affectionate, it just blows me away.  I know where she gets her compassion from- moi.  As for the outgoing-side of her?  That is all her father.  (I was shy and passive, remember?)  Now that the temps have risen and the sun is shining in all it's glory, we are going to the park more often.  AKA, everyday.  Miss G of course desires to play with other little girls, because well, the only other kid around is her little brother.  She will actually chase girls around calling out, "Wait up, friend!"  And usually they run from her.  It honestly breaks my heart into a million pieces to where I want to physically hold those girls down and yell, "Would it kill you to let her play?!"  But, I restrain myself and nicely call out, "Sweet-Pea, why don't you come play with Mommy and Brover?"  The girl is resilient though, I must give her that. 

     So anywho...the last time we were at the park, I was with Li'l B at a slide and Miss G had asked a little girl if she could play and the little girl said yes.  (I did a fist-pump in my head.)  After about fifteen minutes or so of Miss G being fine enough to play with, the little girl's friend shows up and they start running away from my daughter; hiding on top of structures, laughing and pointing as they see her looking for them.  I, naturally, start feeling like I'm on fire.  Miss G finds them at one point and they again start running from her and she of course follows.  I hear the one bleach-blonde girl turn and yell, "STOP FOLLOWING US!"  The look on my beautiful, innocent, lovely daughter's face.....I can't even visualize it without my eyes misting up.  She was truly hurt down to her very core, and confused.  I will admit here that I held my tongue no longer.  I did not speak directly to the girls, but turned in their direction as I spoke to Miss G (very loudly) about not having to take little girls' rudeness and how she was fine to play with until someone else came along.  After that, the two girls kept eyeing me and I glared right back. 

     On our walk home, I tried telling her to stick up for herself and to not let others make her feel inferior.  Then I had to describe inferior because, well, she's three.  One of my exact sentences was, "Sweetie, have a voice.  Please don't sit back and let others make you feel bad.  Mommy never stuck up for herself, but know that I will always stick up for you.  I want you to be better than mommy was when she was little.  I want you to be strong, but smart about it too."  Then we went into nice ways to tell people if they are being rude or hurtful.  While chatting with her, it hit me.  She is three.  It deeply saddened me to even have this type of conversation with her so early in the game, but I realized it was necessary.

     It's funny what person you turn into when you have a child.  Personally, I went from extremely passive to Momma Bear in the blink of an eye.  These are my babies and no one, I mean no one, better make them feel an ounce of hurt or sadness.  At the same time, I also need to realize that it is inevitable that at some point, they will.  It is our job as their guides, protectors, mentors, to show them what they can do to resolve the problem, but not add to it by mirroring others' negative attitudes.  From the beginning of time, some kids have been just plain cruel; we've all either been a target or been the bully.  With bullying being a hot topic lately, all I could envision was these three girls grown and in high school; the two throwing their hair back and laughing, my daughter slinking her shoulders and hiding her face out of embarrassment. 

     I may not have the capability to travel back in time and slap myself into speaking up, but I sure as heck can speak up for my children and show them the proper way to react; how I wish I would've reacted so long ago.  The meek-era will end with myself.  It's a new era for my children.  Smart and Strong.  Strong and Smart.

    

                                                               

                                                               Miss G and Li'l B

A Mother Was Born

     With Mother's Day approaching, I wanted to take a moment to thank my babies (well, and my husband) for making me a mother.  It's really all I ever wanted to be.  (Besides a marine biologist, teacher, veterinarian, actress, writer, less I digress.)  It was one of those things I actually yearned for, and as I became older, I knew it was something I had to be.  For some people, they have no desire to have kids and that is perfectly fine, but for me, I knew children had to be a part of my life.  I felt that I was born to be a mother.  I've always said, I'm better with children and the elderly, and I can't give birth to an 80 year old, now can I. 

       When I became pregnant with our daughter, I was over the moon.  And to feel her move and kick, wow, utterly amazing.  I read all sorts of books about pregnancy, knew how big she was at certain gestational ages, the works.  Then she was born.  Wait a sec, I forgot to read what to do after they're born!  The nurse placed her in my arms, I looked at her squishy face...and I panicked.  If I remember correctly, I cried.  There were tears of joy, sure, and tears of "what the hell do I do now".  Wasn't this that magical moment I'd waited for?  My hair plastered to my face with sweat, sheer exhaustion taking over, her screaming about the fact that she was pushed out of her home.  Then, she stopped crying, and she opened her eyes.  She looked right at me and made these cute little sounds.  I played with her fingers and whispered, "You have long fingers like mommy."  She just stared back at me, knowing exactly who I was.  And I stared back at her, smiling, knowing exactly who I was too. I was her mommy. 

     With our son, he actually tried to arrive seven weeks too early.  I remember my OB saying, "You're in preterm labor, you need to go over to the hospital right now because this little guy can't arrive this early but he sure is trying."  I was scared, so scared.  My husband met me at the doctor's office and we sat in the waiting room while the nurses got my paperwork ready.  I was so silent, worrying, wondering, and he looked over at me, grabbed my hand and said, "He'll be alright."  I tried to hold in my emotions but being pregnant and frightened, that wasn't going to happen.  I started sobbing and apologizing.  My husband put his arms around me and just held me.  He said, "He's just in a hurry to meet his mommy."  That of course made me laugh and I started calming down.  Li'l B decided to stay put until one or two weeks before his due date.  (They kept changing it on me for crying out loud.)  Then, his shoulders became lodged making his birth a little more difficult.  After he was born, I was holding him in our room.  When he opened his eyes to look at me, I smiled and remember saying, "Well to be in such a hurry, you sure took your time getting out, little man."  After he was born, I felt complete, as if our little family was whole. 

     Mothers are born when their children are.  I think with each child, we grow a little more.  Everyday we wonder if we're getting it right; and we're really just winging a lot of it, but I think a lot of us are following our own mother's/parent's/caregiver's examples.  (I know I am.)  Giving love, encouragement, discipline when needed, and lots of hugs and kisses.  These are the little people we created.  They watch us and how we deal with life.  We can't scream at things not going our way and then wonder why they do the same thing, or get upset when they do.  They are little people just trying to figure this crazy world out.  And we are big people, also still trying to figure this crazy world out and the world of Parenthood.  I always say about my children, "From a dream, a reality."  And I couldn't feel more happy and blessed to have my dream come true. Yes, they may drive me to the brink of insanity some days, but I also smile a lot, watching them discover, grow, knowing I wouldn't have it any other way.  They are my babies and I am their mother.

    Have a wonderful Mother's Day fellow mommies.  Now go hug those babies!