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Mama Bear Mode

Mama Bear Mode

Welcome to my new Mama Bear Mode posts! 


I consider myself a fairly patient, intelligent, competent adult, with a large amount of common sense. I write about success tactics after all, which normally leads one to believe that I have got myself together and lead an incredibly successful life.  Well, I am human, not perfect, and there is one side of me you do not want to mess with. The Mama Bear Mode. There is zero patience (tolerance?), compassion, empathy, or care given (Insert 100 words of profanity) if you happen to be the individual who pulls Mama Bear out of my normal quiet, rational, considerate self.

What is this Mama Bear Mode? Oh…do not ask. It is the self-help guru, listen here bucko, make a tough as nails wise guy want to cry (or have his nails painted), independent, first female president, queen of my palace, sassy momma pants that will put you in your place before you can blink. Luckily, very few select persons have caused me to want to unleash the Mama Bear Mode. Lucky as in they might as well have bought a lottery ticket because they got that lucky.

When it comes the safety and well-being of my children, (and the cute offspring of strangers), there is no sometimes, once in a while, it was an accident baloney (insert additional profanity). If you have acted stupidly, immaturely, selfishly and or just flat out rude and came way too close to causing harm to my babies…listen here.

The truth is, every single day of my life, I talk to everyone the same. How often do you do that? I don’t care who you are, what your title is, how much money you have, how long you’ve been such and such. I do my best to treat everyone I interact with, with respect, dignity, grace, maturity, and love. I often actually speak to others in ways that surprises them. Some expect me to treat them better (attach that title and money), others leave our interaction wondering who it is I was talking to. I read people quickly. Straight through the outer layers, the keeping up with the jones’s, the fears, the cockiness, the insecurities, the personas. I see people for who they are right there in the moment, and I talk to them with the potential they have.

I treat you as the rock star you are, and if you are a rock star well I treat you like the human you are. I don’t kiss peoples feet. I don’t suck up. In fact, if you’re being a jerk, I have no problem kicking the stool out from under you and letting your fall on your arse.

If I see you are struggling, I do my best to let you know that I see the real you, the you that is buried way underneath all those issues. I see your strength, your beauty, your intelligence, your capabilities. If you see in my eyes, what I see in you, you might see it too.

Back to Mama Bear Mode. Back to when it comes to my children, I don’t care who you are.

I do not buy into any excuse that contributes the potential harming of my children. None. Notta. Zilch. Zero tolerance policy. This pint sized momma is not afraid of you (or whatever you bring to the table). Because of who I am and what I do for a living, (Assessing others and building them up), I can turn you into a tiny fleck of dust rather quickly (by cutting straight through all those tough phony layers you so proudly wear). Honestly, if it comes down to you being such a moron that I have to bring out Mama Bear, it means you were already given a few chances to make better decisions and act differently (maturely, responsibly). It means you have actually stooped to a pretty low level and my swift kick to your dumbness is not only well deserved but might just give you a wake-up call. Trust me, if you encounter Mama Bear, you will receive a wake-up call. You just probably will never mention it to another soul because it’d be pretty damn embarrassing to admit how stupid you were being and that it took this sweet, girl next door mommy to punch you square in the face and out of your stupidity.

There are a few things that kind of make me want to bring out Mama Bear Mode. However, I am able to let these occurances go and vent out the “You’ve got to be kidding me!” during my workouts.

  1. How difficult is it to park your vehicle squarely in your parking spot? If you can’t or drive an oversized vehicle, park out in timbucktwo! #I will open my door as wide as necessary to safely buckle my children into their car seats.
  2. If you park next to me, Mama Bear, in my big, bright red, perfectly parked truck, and are parked on my side of the line so far I cannot back out at all, and I look at you and you start cussing me out….(trust me I told that guy off)
  3. When your children are not being supervised, and they are too young to supervise themselves. AKA the gym, the street, the store = not a playground!
  4. When you smoke within two feet of my children (and two feet next to the entryway of a store). If you want to smoke fine, but my children don’t need it and they don’t need to pay for your future medical bills.
  5. When I am in the slow lane and going the speed limit and you are riding my cute bumper. My babies are in the backseat, now go around or back the hell off. Your need to hurry is not more important than the lives of my kiddos. This goes for all idiots on the roads actually. It’s not that hard to stay in your lane, keep safe distances, and not be stupid.
  6. See Number 4.
  7. See Number 4 again. The number of times I’ve almost stopped my vehicles to take an idiot out of theirs and make them personally apologize to my children – numerous.
  8. Horrible coaches and bad news parents on the sidelines. See this Coaching Youth Sports post for more. There is no need to swear at athletes under the age of 18, or to degrade them in any way. Set the right example, be mature and be professional. (Hah that goes for parents too). The number of bad coaches I’ve encountered – growing. (Perhaps I should send them a few copies of my books?)
  9. Stores that don’t make aisles wide enough for kiddie carts to get through. What the hell? The whole point of the kiddie cart is for parents to be able to shop longer. Right?
  10. There should always be sidewalks. And bikes allowed on sidewalks. Cities are too dumb to realize adults are not paying attention to their driving and don’t care enough about their kids to teach them bike/street safety. I seem to be of select few who are both safe drivers and teach my kids street safety.
  11. The bigger your title, the more ‘professional’ you are supposed to be and ARE NOT! The higher your title the more professional (and mature and responsible) you are supposed to be, and you are setting an example for my kids. And if it’s a bad example you are giving….well…lets hope my kids are too busy being kids and require my immediate focus for me to put you in place.

Tell me, what brings out the Mama Bear in you?

Coming soon in Mama Bear posts: How Can You Not…?

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