Image Consultant

Hello, my name is Jenny, and I'm a mama bear. Anything that seems to remotely threaten my son - who, by the way, is 6'3" tall and about 40 days away from a driver's license - becomes a target on my radar. Never mind that he can take of himself. Never mind that he's level headed (well, as much as any boy his age can be). Never mind that he doesn't need me to defend him. (Though, I might add here, he has noted that I am a force to be reckoned with and most people are in awe of me. Of course, my response is "Flattery will get you nowhere, son!") After all, this is an instinctual reaction.

Funny, when I was much younger I never thought I'd have kids, and when I became pregnant I worried that I wouldn't know how to deal with a child. I truly believed I wasn't the maternal type. Now I know that was all nightmares and nerves. I can't imagine anyone carrying a baby for nine months, pushing it out in pain, and then being unwilling to step in front of a moving freight train to save it. Thus, whenever my son is hurt - scraped knee or scraped heart - my first inclination is to charge in like the cavalry and make everything better. Except, sometimes, I can't.

This year has been one of change for Jade. He is figuring out who he wants to be, what he wants to do, how he wants to look - all the typical teenager "stuff." Unfortunately, as he experiments with his appearance (straight black hair or his natural wavy brown? biker boots or Keds? dark wash jeans, black jeans with studded pockets, or faded, ripped-knee jeans? band shirts or button downs? wrist bands, rings, guitar picks on a chain?) some of his friends have decided they aren't. As he morphs out of the clean-cut kid look into the guitar star wanna be some of his cookie-cutter friends have stopped calling, hanging out, inviting him places, because he doesn't look like the rest of the group. On the flip side, many of the other rebellious-looking kids tried to befriend him, but found he didn't share their interest in ditching school or getting in trouble. Although his outer look has changed, his inner self - the kid who does his homework, enjoys family game night, and sings along with his parents to cheesy 80's pop tunes and Broadway musicals - is still the same. This conflict between what he shows the world and what he shows his parents has caused him some heartache, which (of course) makes me want to bash a few heads together, though I resisted the temptation knowing he had to deal with these problems on his own. (Besides, I couldn't really chew out all the idiot kids at his school; there just aren't that many hours in a day!)

What I have done this year is encouraged him to be true to himself, held him when he cried because his "friends" weren't his friends any more, and allowed him to work through the heartache himself. I'm not sure who has been tested more by his unwillingness to fit it - him or me. Looking back over my own life I realize I have chosen again and again not to just go along with the crowd. While those choices have frequently brought me trouble, they have helped define who I am. I know Jade will say the same, but in the meantime this mama bear just wants to roar at few people until they turn-tail and run.