Don't Mess With Momma Bear

I have a very good friend who I affectionately call "Momma Bear" because her fur ruffles at any threat (real or perceived) to her family -- especially her children. I am also fortunate that she considers me and my son part of the extended family that includes those close to her heart. When one of her children is hurt or suffers from mistreatment by others, she gets angry. And, when angry, this "Momma Bear" rivals any protective grizzly you might encounter in the wild! A word of warning to anyone who dares cross this formidable woman.

While I may tease her about her protective nature, I admire it a great deal. As a mother of a son who is growing up so very fast, I am torn between trying to remove adversity from his path and sitting quietly aside while he figures out how to deal with that adversity. I know I can't fight my son's battles for him and that he needs to learn to make his own choices and live with the consequences of those choices. But that's difficult when it would be so simple just to clear the path and make it easier for him. This week proved to be a real test for me.

Declan and I engaged in a three-day battle of wills over homework. It is absolutely amazing to see how stubborn a child can be when he does not want to do something. It took him approximately two hours to copy seven spelling words onto a notebook page. That might be some kind of world record!

Up to this point in time, I have always made sure that Declan finishes his homework assignments, even if it means waking him up early in the morning to complete his work. But, after three nights of this ongoing fight where he played with his notebook paper, spiral rings, pencils, pencil sharpener, random items within his reach, etc. instead of doing the work, I decided that was it. I put him to bed with work undone, I got him up at the normal time, and sent him to school with incomplete assignments, knowing that his teacher would discipline him for the unfinished work. I even went so far to go to the teacher and tell her that I fully expected her to impose discipline and warned her that he might have a meltdown when that occurred, and that I was fine with that.

What kind of mother am I? Actually wanting my child to get in trouble at school? Where is my "Momma Bear" instinct? Aren't I supposed to want to protect my son from negative results?

I mulled this over, feeling a little guilty. But the more I thought about it, it became clear that what I was doing by letting his teachers discipline him was allowing him to experience the consequences of his bad decisions and refusal to do the work. My decision not to step in and strong arm him into finishing the work just to shield him from discipline was the loving act of a mother who knows that her cub must grow up and leave the den. I chose to let him get hurt a little bit so he learns not to do the same thing again in the future. I am protecting him by making him strong enough to face the more life-threatening hazards that will surely await him later in life.

We don't defend our children because we think they are perfect. We know our children's faults and love them in spite of those faults. We defend our children because they are ours! We will let them make their mistakes, but we will be there to help them when they fall. And, no matter what, our fur will ruffle when our cubs -- whatever their age -- are threatened or hurt by someone. It's just the nature of the momma bear, and a momma bear is something I am very happy to be.