How I Became a Bodyguard

I am Mother. Bodyguard. Defender of children, preserver of all things innocent.

Since giving birth to my babes, I have pandered to this horrible tendency of imagining the worst. I foresee dreadful things happing to my children, like them falling out of a second story window because of their incessant need to lean on that thin screen. I visualize them getting hit by a speeding car because they did not look both ways before crossing the street. I think that every human being is a baby snatcher and on the hunt for my babies.

It is sick really. But unluckily at this time in my life it is a  norm that I have just learnt to deal with.

When one of these heinous thoughts come to mind, I quickly remedy the situation by any means necessary,  to place my spinning stressed out mind at ease.

I’ve duct taped all of the screens in my home and lectured the kids on why this habit of theirs is so dangerous.

I’ve instilled in them with a burning passion on how we MUST look both ways when crossing any street. How the big bad cars cannot see them, and how it would hurt and how they would have to go to the hospital if they ran out into the street without looking.

This last one I fear may be something that will mentally harbour away in Lars’ little mind.  As of recently when the boy crosses the street I can literally see his stress levels rising to a point in which a 4 year olds should not be at. He scurries across that street frantically looking side to side the whole way across, all the while screaming feverishly at his sister, “HURRY SOPH, HURRY UP!”

And then I must contend with all the other humans that I share this world with.

The other humans that I no longer trust. The other humans that I fear are eyeing my kids up and planning on stuffing them in a black duffle bag and taking them away from me never to be seen again. I hate these humans with a passion beyond my comprehension. Unfortunately I cannot be sure, which humans they are. So in the end, clearly I must assume that ALL humans, are these humans.

It makes for awkward small talk, believe me.

Being a parent is so hard.

HA! What a simple statement, and as I write it I think it looks lame to eye and uneducated. But I will leave it lay, as the more I stare at these few words, the more I see their truth, their depth.

I want to be the best Mother I can be to these two people I care so unconditionally for. I want them to experience the world for what it is, but I have this unyielding anxiety in the inner most instinct part of my brain, to shelter them from all that is dark in this place.

And in the end I realize that I cannot save them from every heartache that will come their way or bad scene that they will undoubtedly come upon.

But for now, I will walk beside them instead of in front. I will hold their hand. I will go to whatever lengths possible to give them all the tools they may need for when that day comes when they no longer want me to be their bodyguard.

And when that day does finally come, because as sure as my love for them, I know it will come; I will let them think they are on their own.

Yet whether they know it or not, I will always protect them…The key is, learning how to do it discreetly.

Because the work of a Motherly Bodyguard is never through.


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