Don’t Wake Mama Bear

Today's post is a guest post by MamaBear who tells us a little bit about what it's like to defend one's cubs in the rough and tumble world of suburban Strongsville...

 

Mama Bear- ever vigilent

Hidden deep in the lush forest of the Midwest (the Strongsville Metroparks), lives an elusive creature known for her fierce, loyal, and irrational protection of her cubs.  As her offspring enter into what some consider the golden-years of cubhood (the ages between 6-12 when cubs become interesting and pleasant), there have been increased sightings of this wild protector.  Who is this insane animal, you might ask, and where has she been spotted?  You need only look to a nearby bus stop, playground or library story-time to locate her.  And it is there you will find… The Mama Bear. 

My day started out as any other.  The kids woke, got ready for school, and together we walked to the bus stop where we greeted several other moms and children.  Things were moving along quite nicely, children excitedly planning for the school day ahead, moms chatting about the weather…wait a minute.  Wait just a minute.  Did that kid just push my kid?  DID THAT KID JUST PUSH MY KID?!!  And then it happened.  My grizzly teeth grew sharp, my eyes got wild, my Jamberry nails transformed into claws right there at the bus stop.  I grew to a towering eight feet and broke right through my yoga pants and sweatshirt.   Mama Bear was awake!   I lumbered over to my child (who had moved on from the alleged (possibly misconstrued) pushing incident), and said, “Are you ok?” and then even louder, “Did John just push you?”  My son replied, “No, he tripped and bumped into me.”  Oh, ok.  And just like that, my teeth and eyes returned to their human form, my nails regained their suburban-painted status, and my clothes once again fit my 5’5 frame.  Mama Bear headed back to the cave. 

Returning to the house, my three-year-old and I decided to head out to the library story-time.  Honestly, can you think of a more benign, fun, and educational experience?  We got there a bit early so my kid could get a front and center seat.  He was happy.   And of course, I was happy that he’d reached an age where story-time no longer involved him climbing me like Mt. Everest throughout the entire 20 minutes of painful songs, rhymes, and finger plays.  All was going well as the other children filtered in, and I may have even patted myself on the back for our participation in this enriching activity.  Wait a minute.   Are those kids… ARE THOSE KIDS NUDGING MY KID OUT OF THE FRONT SPOT?!!  A deep growl emerged from me, and Mama Bear was awake!  Very loudly, so the other mothers were sure to hear, I roared, “Ben, don’t let those kids push you!  Batten down the hatches, honey!  Hold your position man!”  Then I glowered my big grizzly eyes at the offending toddlers.  (Did I just swipe my bear paw at that girl?)   I was on full alert, glaring around at the toddlers and parents in a frenzied, rabid sort of way, with a look that I am certain conveyed, “Don’t touch my cub, and you best find another place to sit.”   Thankfully, story-time started and all was well.  Mama Bear once again headed back into the cave.

That night at dinner, my 6-year-old casually mentioned that one of the girls at school was being mean to her.  Smelling danger as any Mama Bear would, I asked her what the girl had said and she responded, “She called me skinny”.  My husband, who rarely gives advice, sat silently.  In fact, I think my whole family was waiting for my reaction.  And there it was.  My face heated, my breathing increased, my finger (paw really) started making that “Z” shape in the air and I heard myself roar, “She said what?  SHE SAID WHAAATTT?!!”  I think I might have seen my husband’s eyebrow raise a bit, but I was just getting started.  Mama Bear was awake!  “Well,” I rabidly howled, “What did you say back?  WHAT DID YOU SAY BACK?!!  Did you say, ‘I’m going to kick your--‘”  My husband shot me a look complete with the throat cut-it-off sign.  My daughter replied, “I don’t want to say that, mom.”  Getting all the more agitated, I crazily responded, “Did you tell her to shut up and mind her own business?  Or how about saying…”  My 8 year old cut me off and sagely stated, “Mom, Jesus tells us to turn the other cheek”.   Again I saw my husband’s eyebrow raise in question.  In full frothing Mama Bear mode I retorted, “Listen, Michael, different context.  Jesus wasn’t talking about mean girls!”  Everyone else at the table pretty much agreed that this was the exact kind of situation that Jesus was apparently referring to, and so one dad, his daughter, and her two brothers decided that the best response was to simply say, “Thanks.”   As a rabid Mama Bear ready and willing to protect her cubs at all costs, I questioned the retort, but all involved assured me that this method would work to curb this kindergarten bully.   “Fine”, I said with a low rumbling growl.  (Actually at this point it is more of a resolute Chewbacca-whine.)  “But maybe you can at least swipe a paw at her when you say it.” 

 

KiddleDad's 50th Blog Post

This happened to somebody else's blog
after 50 posts... you can do it, Mom!

This post marks the 50^th KiddleDad post. I’m amazed, since when it started I thought that I might very well fizzle out after four or five posts. But no, parenting is a treasure trove of humorous events. If you can write 500 words about the eating of oatmeal, there is seemingly endless supply of topics that can be covered.

One thing I have learned in 50 posts is that you can’t just create content; you have to market it if you want people to read it. So I’ve put in place a digital marketing campaign that I summarize as: post it on Facebook. I also have advanced analytics that tell me exactly how many people have read each posts, so I know what topics and what marketing attract the most attention.

I know, for instance, that after 50 posts I have roughly 100 page views. Given that Andrea reads the draft before it is posted (to remove all Pope jokes and curse words), and that I read it one time once posted to make sure it formatted okay, that means I have one person reading my blog – My Mom.

Therefore, in honor of my 50^th post, I called my Mom last night to get a list of her favorites. Here they are:

1.       A Case of the Yucks

2.       Buy High, Sell Low

3.       Ummmm… errrrrr…

That’s right, my Mom couldn’t think of a third. When asked to conjure up even a single memory of another post, she was stuck. Apparently the other 48 posts, which I know she dutifully read, have not made much of an impression. Looks like I shouldn’t be working on a book deal soon. (In fairness to Mom, she’s had a lot of heavy things on her mind lately).

What are my favorites, no one in particular asks? What, you want me to choose, like choosing my favorite child amongst my children? How can I possibly? Actually it’s no problem. Some were truly inspired, others I just mailed in. Here are my favorite 5, in order:

1.       Crime and Punishment

2.       The Brown Badge of Courage

3.       May The Cheese Be With You

4.       Kiddie Capitalism

5.       Captain America and Iron Man Share Wardrobe Tips

The other thing you might not realize is that I get paid to do this blog. Those ads for Irritable Bowel Syndrome at the bottom?  I get paid just for showing those to you. I get paid even more for clicks. So far, I’ve made a whopping $2.32. Would it kill you to click on a darn ad, Mom?

Hence my shameless plugs above to get you to go read old posts. Every view is worth like half a cent. So please – go back and read those old posts and a bunch more. Scroll and click randomly. Share the ones you like with your friends. Make this thing go viral. It’s worth like ten bucks to me – I’ll buy your kid an oatmeal.

I [heart] Obamacare

Ladies and Gentlemen:
The President of Ohio, Manack Banana

When you’re a graduate of Harvard Business School, you have many opportunities to be humbled throughout the rest of your life. Several classmates have made their fortunes many times over and are now writing sagacious blogs about how to be worthy business investors. One classmate’s father ran for president – of the United States, not SECPTA. Sal Khan (Founder of Khan Academy) was in our class for goodness sakes. This guy’s in TV commercials and was on the cover of Fortune! What have you done with the past 10 years, you schlub?

Another of our classmates, who at least still returns our emails (still missing you, Sal!) is running for Congress in California. I bring this up in a (mostly) parenting blog because our kids are really into politics these days. Or at least politics at a 4-year-old level. For example, they both know that the president’s name is Manack Banana, that he lives in the White House, and he is the president of Ohio. He flies around in Air Force one, which is a crumpled up plush doll plane that’s been on the bottom of the toy chest too long. We live in the state of Strongsville, which is part of the United States.

So this classmate is running for congress for the wrong party. Nevertheless, as friends we made a meager donation reflective of our Harvard status – don’t know how much Sal Khan gave, but we donated I think $50.

Big Mistake.

Let me be clear here, if you are ever presented the opportunity to donate to a political campaign, pass. Do not feed the bears. Having given that miniscule donation, I am now bombarded with an average of 5 emails a day with titles like:

Boehner Can’t Believe It!

With breathless text explaining: Boehnercantbelievetheresponsewevegottentothepetitiontooverturntherepublicanbudgetjust13moredonationsbeforenoontomorrowandwellhave200,000donatenowrecommendeddonation$5!!!!!!

Now I even get emails from Nancy Pelosi (shaking my head). Like I said, big mistake.

And the email that caused howls of laughter around our dinner table – I have no idea why I checked this email at the dinner table, but I did – was the one that said for $5 I could get a free bumper sticker saying “I [heart] Obamacare.” The kids absolutely think this is the funniest thing they’ve ever seen, and routinely ask to see that email again. One mention of the word “Obamacare” is now enough to ignite our carload into rapturous laughter.

I think the email’s funny, too, not so much out of any grievance I have with Obamacare, but more at the notion that anyone could [heart] such a thing.

Not that the Dems have the market cornered on this tripe. I have grandparents at the opposite end of the political spectrum, who routinely send me politi-spam bemoaning how school kids don’t sing the Star Spangled Banner anymore and that the democrats want to sell our Bibles to pay for condoms for drug dealers.

So with this constant, competing noise blaring in each ear, I feel I have a unique perspective on this whole political thing. Here are my findings:

1.       John Boehner and Nancy Pelosi are constantly being taken by surprise. Apparently they are not very savvy.

2.       Obamacare is the funniest thing in the world.

So let’s lighten up, people. And whatever you do, do not feed the bears.