Universal Mother Truth

In comparing the list of things I'd set out to achieve with what I've actually accomplished, I'm afraid I've fallen rather short. I did not coach a world champion gymnast. I never got around to writing the next great American novel. I never made it to law school. My goals, as they were, remain unattained.

It used to be I felt frustrated. At odds with myself for allowing my aspirations to slip haphazardly onto life's back burner, but now I see things differently. God has a different plan for me. 

Tipping the scales at roughly 70 pounds over my normal fighting weight, I gave birth to my first child. The memory of that day evokes a surge of emotions so vivid that I am forced to admonish myself...SNAP OUT OF IT...or risk being duped into believing it all happened only yesterday, not two decades ago. 

Until I became a mother, I had no idea that deep inside my sanctity-of-life-respecting soul a savage beast silently lingered. With one push (ok maybe it was more like three or four pushes plus 20 hours of heavy labor preceded by nine months of morning sickness and hemorrhoids, but you get the picture), Christian was born and I became a mother. In other words, I became a savage beast capable of killing another human being. 

I was startled to discover this primal thing about myself. Whether it was the sound of Christian's first hoarse cry, or the feeling of his gentle breath as I cradled him against my skin, something aroused the beast within me. I remember my promise on the day Christian was born, If anyone, anyone tries to harm you, I will kill him.  

Four years later my precious Jared was born. The scene repeated itself: It's a boy! Followed by the shrill cry of a newborn, a primal beast-woman exposed, and once again a mother's promise, If anyone, anyone, tries to harm you I will kill him.  

Perhaps hormones are accountable for this murderous instinct in an arguably normal woman. Perhaps I am a raving lunatic. Perhaps, but I assure you I know this much is true. I am not alone. 

Initially I was convinced my basal reaction was unique to me. Surely no other mother loved her children as much as I loved mine. Come to find out, I am just another ordinary mother. 

I have frequented passels of playgrounds, waited in endless, snaking carpool lines, and have volunteered at umpteen school functions. I have attended oodles of sporting events, school plays, and band concerts. I’ve spent a lifetime of arriving 30 minutes early with the not-so-hidden agenda of shamelessly jockeying for position to insure snapping the perfect photograph of my little cherubs. In doing all of these things I have spent incalculable hours with my mother colleagues and their children. The conclusion is undeniable. It is a universal mother truth: IF YOU HURT OUR BABIES WE WILL KILL YOU. 

From the benign threats of the schoolyard bully, from the most heinous misdeeds of the pedophile, and from ANYTHING in between, mothers do what it takes to protect their children from harm. We do it with utter disregard for our own health and well-being, safety, and while I don’t like to admit it, dignity. 

There is nothing particularly special or heroic about what mothers do. It is simple and true and we all do it.

My aspirations may have slipped haphazardly onto life's back burner. My goals, as they were, remain unattained, but my life in the 'hood (motherhood) continues to exceed my expectations in ways I never imagined.

God has a different plan for me. Indeed an extraordinary plan. Come to find out, I am just another ordinary mother. 

Antoinette Datoc is a freelance writer. In addition to her Patch contributions she maintains two personal blogs, Just Another Ordinary Day and Ask Ant Advice.