A Special Adventure from one mother of a boy to another...
As mommies of boys we use this word often to describe how we felt when he did something new and dangerous. I don't mean dangerous as in running out of sight in a mall or into oncoming traffic. I mean small things, boy things, slightly dangerous things, like climbing trees, swinging too high on a swing or riding his bike down a steep hill . Do we really sit back and think what it means "to panic" for real? When do we come to understand that mothers have that anthropological, scientific, biologic fight or flight/survival mode? When did it "click" for you?
Pre-mommyhood I was the type of girl, and woman, to freeze when traumatic events unfolded. I remember at 20 years old I was hit by an oncoming car doing eighty miles an hour. I was at a steady 75 miles an hour being on the opposite side of the median on Interstate 575 in North Georgia. I saw the tail end of the car coming at me and then...I froze. That's all I could do. I just grabbed the wheel, froze and uttered two phrases that spilled over each other repetitively: "oh shit, oh God". Over and over again I said these words for what seemed like minutes though it was only seconds. But the point is, I froze. I panicked. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know the technical tasks of righting my steering, easing off the brake, etc. Luckily, I was completely fine, albeit shaken.
At 30 years old, my dear sweet husband and I were enjoying a meal on a patio of a local restaurant. The patio overlooked a semi-busy street in the commercial development where the restaurant was located. As we were eating, a car skidded around the corner and slammed into an electric pole. I froze. And for a few seconds stared in disbelief. As I came out of my stupor my husband was screaming "Mallorie, call 911". The driver of that car, a young father of a small boy, was not so lucky.
I recall these events as I sit here after giving my own son his bath, where he fell, legs splayed upward, hitting the back of his head on the bottom of the tub. I know now that he slipped on a washcloth but it took me a nanosecond to grab him, wrap him in a towel and whisper calmly, "Its okay, buddy. You just inhaled a little water. You'll be fine." I DID NOT panic. I DID NOT freeze up. I was not rattled. I checked him from head to toe as I diapered and lotioned him. He was fine. My heart was in my throat for a few moments, but he was fine.
It always amazes me what a different person I have become since becoming a mother. I thank God for that "fight or flight" reaction he gave ALL mothers to get us through those "crisis" situations that involve our sons. It fosters security in our boys and assures them they can always trust their mommies (hopefully). My son is the best part of my life and I could not imagine how life would be without him as I can't remember what my life was like before him. Sons are THAT amazing!
And 3 hours after his little "bathtub accident" I am checking in on him for the fourth time.
God bless all of you Moms! And the glass of wine after bedtime routines doesn't hurt!
Cheers!
W.A.'s Momma
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