The day I met my “Mama Bear”

Her: “Which group is he in? Red? Purple?”
Me: “I’m not sure. How would I know?”
Her: “I got a call”
Me: “I didn’t get a call yet.”
Her: “I’m sure you’ll get one in the next couple days”

You see, it was time for our kiddos to “move up” at church. You know, when they jump from one class to another, often coinciding with the start of a new school year? She had gotten a call about her kiddo and his new group, but I hadn’t gotten a call about mine. I walked off and didn’t think much of it, until later.

The next few days went a little like this:

Another mom messaged me to ask which group our boy was in. I still didn’t know. Another day passed. I still didn’t know. And with every moment that passed, my brain started to fill in the waiting with a whole lot of crazy. Here’s a little bit of my internal monologue for your enjoyment:

“Is he not moving up – why not? He’s just as smart as the other kids – maybe smarter! He can count and sing the ABC’s, maybe not always consistently, but he can. I should definitely be working with him more on those things anyway…Are they holding him back? I know he doesn’t speak as clearly as some of the other kids who just turned three, but he’s catching up. Oh my gosh, this speech issue is already starting to hold him back. We have to get him into regular speech therapy right now!…Why else could they be holding him back? He’s potty trained. I mean, he had one accident, one time, weeks ago. If they hold him back for one accident – seriously. You know, now that I think about it, I don’t think that other kid is potty trained! Why does he get to move up but my kid doesn’t?” //End scene//

The last time we went to Chick-Fil-A a little boy pushed my kiddo and I sat back and watched because I wanted to give him the opportunity to handle it. The boy pushed him again, and my kiddo just stared at him. I didn’t jump up, I didn’t intervene, I didn’t say a word. Apparently I’m not rattled by other kids physically assaulting my kid, at least not nearly as much as the idea that he might be left out. I tell you this to prove the point that we all have triggers that can cause our inner Mama Bear to growl. Apparently mine include (but are likely not limited to) any time I perceive that other people think he is not good enough, smart enough, fill-in-the-blank enough.

Irrational Mama Bear fears really boil down to irrational Mama Bear expectations. I want my kid to be liked, to be successful, to be happy (what parent doesn’t?). I want the very best that life has to offer for him, but the idea that the very best has anything to do with which group he’s in or whether he develops at the same speed as all the other kids is nonsense. I need to shift my expectations to the stuff that matters. Is he kind? Is he forgiving? Does he belly laugh? Does he know how very much he is loved?

It turns out there was a simple miscommunication and he ended up in the group with his little buddies. It turns out my visit to crazy-town was all for nothing. Well, maybe not all for nothing, because I got to meet my Mama Bear that day, and she’s not all bad. She loves fiercely. She knows she can’t protect her cubs from all the tough things that will happen to them – she doesn’t want to. She’s learning the stuff that matters, and the stuff that doesn’t, and she’s committed to her cubs learning the same.