The Vikings had nothing on mothers.
There is an innate protective instinct to guard our young. It is instantaneous reaction. Fears and inhibitions instantly retreat, subservient to the driving need to shelter from harm. It is not something we ponder over or deliberately choose. This ferocity simply is.
An enormous dog once threatened my son. I launched myself at that animal without a second thought. I have witnessed moms foaming at the mouth in PTA meetings. We regularly take on other mothers, husbands, neighbors and the domestic elements. We are a driven population. Nothing will stand in the way of our child’s wellbeing.
My husband refers to my sons as my cubs. It is an apt description. Do I recognize their faults? Oh yes. However, you had best be careful if you are attempting to belittle one of them in any way. These are my chosen, my beloved, my responsibility to guard. Like every mom, I will rabidly defend my children to the death if necessary. If you choose to threaten I will roar, gnash teeth and unleash the beast within.
You may fail to recognize the smallest signs of my dedication: the food I select, the clothing I purchase, the recreational activities I arrange. I have constructed a zone of safety wherein my child may flourish. This is not a function of age or helplessness. Yes we wrap our newborns in the softest of blankets, nursing them to growth.This is but a launching point, the veriest beginning of lifelong effort. We actively continue on, encouraging and nurturing at every stage. Long after adulthood has been reached we are still there, our metaphorical blankets ready to enfold. The empirical demands of motherhood never cease.
Heroes of legend have been born of women who struggled, sacrificed and endured. Endless stories abound of mothers who wrought miracles, who gave life and shaped it against all odds. We bear witness for those who gave their very lives to ensure their offspring knew survival. It is not a choice we make. It is instinct. It is who we are.
We are warriors. Our battles range from the smallest of mundane things to acts of great courage. We go through labor to achieve our state and continue our labors for our time on earth. It is our honor to do so. We listen with open hearts. We take time to talk out our issues. We cook, clean, argue and defend. We are present, half of an eternal bond, a sacred trust. We ensure our children know security. We battle. We endure. We protect. We love. Motherhood is fierce.