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Fiercely Protective

Friday nights are of a relaxed atmosphere over here. In fact, I’ve always been kind of chill on Friday nights, preferring Dateline to parties in college. That’s right. I’m a nerd and I always have been. Last night, my Husband was watching War Games (OMG! HA!) and I was catching up on a few magazines that I haven’t had time to read through yet. One of those was Redbook (July).

Of note: I have always read my magazines back cover to front cover. I don’t know why. I just do.

So one of the first pages I turned to was the end of the “Mom” section that each Redbook features. On a sidebar was a quote from Marcia Gay Harden. She’s a Mom to a ten year old and four year old twins (!) (and a spokesperson for a really great site that I’ll talk about on the other blog next week). Her quote made me dog-ear the page, nod my head and get kind of weepy all at once.

(Being a Mom made me…) Fiercely protective, like a lion. My top priority is keeping my kids safe. Mothering is a beautiful word and it doesn’t only mean making cupcakes.

Now I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that Harden didn’t mean to include me in her quote. But she did. The conception and subsequent birth of the Munchkin made me a Mother in every sense but the making of cupcakes. I did become fiercely protective. Her well-being was always my utmost concern, even as my own health was at risk during that tumultuous pregnancy.

Of course, that has also made me somewhat overprotective of my parented sons but I’m coming to realize that while I shouldn’t smother my kids, being protective isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Finding that balance, of course, is difficult but I’m learning. (I mean, I’m letting my oldest go to preschool in the fall even though it gives me heart palpitations! AH!)

What I’m trying to say is that I’ve been this way, fiercely protective, since I knew the Munchkin would be joining the world. All during the time in which I planned on parenting, I felt like I was guarding her from the evil of this world. Once I became ill and began making an adoption plan, the mothering feeling didn’t magically dissipate. And it didn’t just go away the moment that she left my body. In fact, I felt it in a much stronger way. While I don’t drive her to dance class or watch her like a hawk as she plays on the playground now, I still feel it in my soul. I’d give my life if it meant saving hers, just like I would do for both of my boys.

All this said, I make a mean cupcake. Just ask my oldest.