Mother Bear

I think that I am turning into somewhat of a "mother bear." You know, the protective mother who mauls anyone who comes in the way of her baby? That kind of mother bear.

Everything I look at in the house, I think, "Is that baby-safe?" Like, how I made Andrew fix the blinds, or how I constantly worry about where we're going to put the crib (that we don't have), or how I am trying to baby proof our house (even though our baby isn't yet born, let alone mobile).

I have also been reminiscing a lot more, which is something I thought happened when people got older, much older. Apparently I'm in the much older category because I keep thinking of all the stories I have to tell. Well, either that or I'm just supposed to tell stories. Perhaps it's a little bit of both.

This story is also kind of inspired by Bridget's blog post, but also by the comment made by Shaille, who said that women are just naturally more cautious. It is part of the "mother bear" (aka. nurturing instinct) inherent within us.

This story happens one Friday night when I was 15, a sophomore (grade 10) in high school. David and I had had a party and because the magic hour of midnight was approaching, our guests were on their way out the door in order to beat curfew.

Joy and Matt were the last two to be leaving. The four of us were at the door joking around a bit which meant that Joy was laughing wildly and Matt was talking in his bass voice. My parents were already in bed, but if anyone knows my mom well, they know that she is a light sleeper (as am I). She heard the wild laughter of Joy, which, if you are just coming out of a stupor of sleep, could sound like a young girl screaming and gasping. She heard the bass voice of Matt, which, if you already thought you heard a young girl screaming, could sound like a vicious attacker.

My mom of course, instantly began to panic for my safety. She poked my dad. He grunted. She poked him harder. He rolled over. She shook him awake. He said, "What?"

"Nancy is being kidnapped!" she yelled in a whisper.

"No, she's not." dad replied calmly.

"Yes, she is! I can hear screaming!" my mom said.

"It's just their friends leaving." said my dad and rolled over to go back to sleep.

With that last bit of apathy from my dad, my mom jumped out of bed and ran down the hallway...

Only to run into me and David and Joy and Matt at the entry way.

She smiled at us, said goodnight, and went back to bed.

After Joy and Matt finally left, mom came out of her room again and told me the now-funny story of her thinking I was being abducted. We had a good laugh and went to bed.

*****

The next night (Saturday), our friends got together again, this time at someone else's house (I think it was Becky's). That night, Matt asked me, "What was up with your mom last night?"

"Oh," I said, "She just thought someone was kidnapping me..." and I told him the story. He laughed. After all, it's a funny story.

Isn't it nice, though, to have a mother who cares about me so much that she would risk her life in the middle of the night to save mine? I think so.