The Mama Scream

In one of the parenting books I'm reading, the writer discusses how you can use different tones and pitches in your voice to help your children distinguish various levels of immediacy or importance while disciplining. At one point he referred to a certain extreme scream that should only be used in times of definite danger. He writes that it's one that you can't practice...it just happens. Pausing, I meandered back through my nearly twenty-three months of motherhood and couldn't recall a time where the extreme scream had broken forth from my mouth. But just two days later, it did.

I was busy getting dressed a few mornings ago and Mark came in and set Reagan on the bed. There he sat giggling and drooling, being the calm little dumpling that he is. Sure enough, in trotted Kolbe, and he quickly climbed up on the bed (a feat he has just recently mastered since our bed is pretty high up). At first the two just giggled at each other as usual but then Kolbe decided to start rolling around. Before I had a chance to dispel the situation, Kolbe rolled directly into Reagan's side, flipping him over several times. That sudden rapid explosion of thoughts that happens in frightful moments fired off in my head. With the nightstand table just inches away from where Reagan's head would hit, I just knew we were about to have an accident. (not to mention that he'd be hitting the floor below) I knew there was no way I'd be able to get to the other side of the bed in time to stop this catastrophe from happening.



And thus, from my mouth the Mama Sceam burst forth in a frantic cry of "Ahhhhh! AHHHHHH!" Just as I reached the bed, Reagan (luckily, missing the night stand table) dropped off the far side of the bed and landed on the floor below. Mark came running in from the kitchen just in time for us both to see Reagan smile up at us with his What? Is something wrong? face. Fortunately, all of the decorative pillows that adorn our bed when it's made were piled right below him. So it wasn't even an accident after all. More like fun for the little guy! Who doesn't want to fall in to a pile of pillows!?!

Still, my heart raced and raced for another five minutes or so after the whole ordeal ended and things were back to normal. I sat on the edge of the bed holding Reagan and rocking him back and forth even though he wasn't upset whatsoever. It's that uncontrollable feeling that I somehow let my baby down, or that I allowed him to get hurt, that gets me. I know it's impossible to be several places at once and equally impossible to prevent every single accident that will happen to my boys in the years to come, but the mama in me still wants to try. I would absolutely lose it if something happened to one of them and it was something that I could have prevented. Even the though of it now sends chills down my spine. I pray all the time that I can protect my little boys when they need it while at the same time give them the room they need to grow independently. Parenting is a stressful job.

Maybe next time I use The Mama Scream it will be for a legitimate reason. But I hope not.