What makes a Momma Bear?

Sugar, and spice, and everything nice - that's what little girls are made of. To be a Momma Bear, add a little piss and vinegar.

My mom and dad raised me to be a strong, independent, don't-stand-for-shit kind of woman. By most accounts, I didn't need much encouraging. I'm what I would consider a typical oldest child: ambitious, a perfectionist, stubborn (I prefer "strong-willed"), and bossy (so my sister Ann would say - If she would just listen to me, she'd understand that I have strong leadership qualities.). I come from a long line of Momma Bears - I think I was made for the job.

Momma Bears are not always moms. When we were kids, I appointed myself Protector of My Sister. The only fight I ever got in as a kid was because someone made fun of her. No one was going to make fun of or torture my little sister - except me. (And as a perfectionist, I was really, really good at it.)  I have friends and family without kids who wouldn't hesitate to take a stand for something they believe in.

Momma Bears stand up for themselves as much as they do for others. Once, a Warehouseman I used to work with was dumb enough to say some derogatory, sexual things about me to some of his buddies, and didn't know (or didn't care) that I overheard him. I'm pretty sure I blacked out from anger because the next thing I recall is that I was eye to chest with this asshole, who was about a foot taller than me and thrice as heavy, doing that "quiet yell" that Momma Bears seem to do so well. I let him know that I would not be disrespected that way, that I would not allow any other woman to be disrespected this way, and what kind of dumbass with a daughter thinks this behavior is okay and how 'bout I call his wife and tell her what he just said about another woman? I hissed and spit like a snake. I look back on that day and remember being so pissed off that I couldn't find any words, but according to those who were there (about 15 other men, all of whom knew better than to get in my way), I certainly wasn't speechless.  
  
We're a bit of paradox, because even though Momma Bears can throw a punch and aren't afraid to, we're also nurturers. We want to shield those we care about from hurt, anger and fear. Momma Bears appreciate others. Momma Bears care and love so deeply it often hurts. But we're not excuse-makers or blame-shifters and we expect the same of others.

My maternal Momma Bear-edness REALLY kicked in as soon as I had Jack and it went into overdrive when I had Sam. As the boys got older, there were more and more situations when I had to step up to the plate for my boys' sake - with teachers, coaches, friends, family - and in some of those cases, Mt. Momma Bear did erupt. In one instance, Matt still swears I was trying to get him killed because I chased down and chewed out two men whose reckless driving could have killed us while we drove down the freeway with the boys. It was stupid and he's right - I had no idea what those guys would or could do. But all I could think about was my babies possibly being hurt, and I was out for blood. In another situation, I think one of Jack's former coaches is still afraid of meeting me in a dark alley because I told him and anyone else within 100-yard radius what I thought after an epic display of poor sportsmanship (the coach, not the kids), and after he called my son a name.

 Special Needs Momma Bears are a different breed. (And Special Needs Momma Bears aren't always taking care of children - I know several who are taking care of their parents or other adults.) They take all the MB traits, and kick it up a notch. Your backbone has to be a bit stronger, your patience greater, your empathy higher, and your ability to bite your tongue - well, I wouldn't know how that goes since I've haven't figured that one out yet. 

I have learned the most about myself since embracing my role as a Special Needs Momma Bear. I didn't realize that I could be so passionate about something. I didn't know that I could be so patient. (And I'm not that patient, mind you. It's just that on a patience scale of 1-10, I used to be a -20. Being about a 3 now is amazing progress.) I didn't think I could ever take on something that scared me so much and turn around and conquer that fear. I didn't realize I was so awesome.

One more thing - Momma Bears LOVE to recognize the greatness in other Momma Bears. I prefer to do so with a generous house pour of a good wine. Cheers!