Mama Bear Dreams

I woke up at 3am this morning from a dream. In it, E and I were walking to the bus stop, and somehow the bus had already passed us–he was about to miss it. So he started sprinting, and I told him that he didn’t have to run quite so fast and wear himself out. The bus driver would see him running and waving and stop. It looked like he was going to, and then he turned on his blinker and drove off down the street. We stopped, defeated. There was a group of kids (full disclosure: all non-white) on the corner, and as E and I turned to go home, one of them used a rolled-up piece of paper to smack E on the bottom. It was just a paper, it wouldn’t have hurt, but I was mad. I turned around and yelled, “Hey!” and slightly got in the kid’s face, but didn’t touch him. That was all it took though, for the whole group–maybe 4-5 kids–to come to his defense and jump us. E and I tried to defend ourselves against punches and shoves and kicks from all sides, and inched slowly down the street, but they kept up with us. The whole time I was thinking, “I could have just walked away, but I had to defend my son!” I woke up in a sweat and panic. And just now, 18 hours later, it occurred to me the significance of the dream: I’ve become the mama bear, ready to defend my child no matter the cost. Although, you know, maybe next time I should consider the ratios and just let some stuff go…