I was raised by feral wolves.
When my mother tells stories about raising her children (five of us in all) it brings a chill to the room. They always start with how "things were different back then..." As if back in the "old days" it was perfectly acceptable to let your 4 year old eat the entire bottle of baby aspirin (after all my mother had just stepped outside for ONE SECOND to talk with a neighbor and had NO idea little T could even OPEN that damn bottle so fast). And the tales always end the same also, with a "...I guess I should have called the doctor."
But we all survived to adulthood. None of us really like her all that much, but she did keep us alive so I guess she deserves some credit.
It's even more strange to look back on my childhood years through the lens of being a mom myself. Because I seem to have a naturally-given maternal instinct that was lacking in my own mother. I guess it skips a generation once in a while.
This morning was back to school for my little man. And silly, stressed-out, insomniac me set the alarm wrong.
So we awoke with about 4 minutes until the late bell.
My son took it in stride - got dressed in record time - and we zoomed off.
He was nervous about walking through those glass doors with a late pass (which he hasn't had to ever do) and having everyone stare at him. So we stopped for a moment before he went inside and talked it out...why he was nervous, what he could do to cope, that type of thing. He took a good long breath and walked in. Waving goodbye and ready to face the day.
I drove away thinking that maybe we learn how to survive in moments like this. We forge our coping skills from our parents mistakes, the hard times, moving through fears. Maybe I am such a good survivor because I was raised by the wolves. Because it is eat or be eaten in the pack.
So today, nervous as hell at the idea of walking through some of my own glass doors, I will breathe breathe breathe.
Wish me luck blogosphere - and at least I will be looking cute as I face some big-ass fear today ;)
Oh and look I found an acoustic version of the song describing the best day I can remember ever having...turning down tharpe and singing at full volume. That's my memory I am carrying through those doors today.
