Mothers, most of us had or have one. There are some politicians that I’ve wondered if they weren’t perhaps hatched out of a dodo egg, but that’s another discussion for another day.

 

I just want to say thank you, thank you to the Mothers that actually love their children. Up front disclaimer, all my children have either 4 legs and fur, or 2 legs and feathers. And I love them all. And as challenging as it can be to be a Mother to them, I understand from those that have children with skin and two legs, they are even harder to raise. Ok, I won’t dispute that, but will take your word.

 

When I was growing up, I was one of the very lucky kids. By that I mean I didn’t really grow up needing to be afraid. I didn’t have dreams of monsters under the bed or the killer clowns breaking in. Why didn’t I? Because I knew that my Dad had a revolver in the underwear draw and a shotgun in the closet. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if my Dad didn’t drop them with a punch, he had the means and motive to use defensive tools to sort the issue. Now, while I view my Dad as a combination of Roy Rogers and John Wayne, I knew that when it came to his children, our safety was not a negotiable issue. I would like to think a lot of Dads are protective of their families.

 

So why do I consider myself so blessed? Because not only was my Dad willing and able to take care of us kids, so was my Mom. My little 5’4” Mom was a tough little farm girl. Not a lot fazed her when it came to taking care of her kid’s safety. Mom was a good Southern Baptist, and she was all about turn the other cheek, peacemaking and treating your neighbor as you would want to be treated. But there was no doubt in my mind she would look out for her brood.

 

“Mom, what would happen if someone broke in one day?”

 

“Sheila, your Dad will handle it, don’t worry”.

 

“But Mom, what if Dad’s not home?”

 

“Then I’ll handle it.”

 

By then I was about as tall and big as my Mom, which isn’t saying much. Sorry Mom.

 

“Um, how Mom?”

 

“I’ll shoot them.”

 

“Um, Mom, do you know HOW to shoot?”

 

Actually as it turns out, my Mom is a crack shot. Growing up on a farm, hunting squirrels or anything else she needed to, with not a lot of ammo to spare makes one a very good markswoman.

 

My respect for my Mother grew that day. I knew she loved us enough that she would do whatever she needed to in the effort to protect us, and she wouldn’t hesitate. I’m a blessed woman.

I knew that rather than fight and die to protect us, she would most likely fight and live to raise us herself.

 

I think about the pressures facing responsible Mothers these days. You have people like Shannon Watts who make a habit of telling Mothers their children don’t matter. She is supported financially by people like gazillionaire Mickey Bloomberg who I’m sure has a staff of security people armed with massive tasers and pepper spray to keep their families safe. He can afford them. We couldn’t.

 

Hollyweird celebs like Rosie O’Donnell, Melissa Joan Hart, Prince and a cadre of others who have private security telling us little people we will be safer if we are defenseless.

 

Pediatricians asking parents if they own guns, and yes, this happened to a friend of mine.

 

Then you have the mainstream media presenting biased stories against firearms, and for some bizarre reason people still watch stuff like CNN and MSLSD.

So to all the Mothers that stand against the pressures that would keep them from being prepared and able to protect their children, I applaud you. It has always been a sense of horror to me that I am more prepared and willing to defend a flock of chickens from a coon, possum or fox than some Mothers are to protect their children. More than one predator has met his eternal reward measured in shot. I figure I bought the critters, 2 and 4 legged, they had no choice where they wound up, I took on responsibility for them. Part of that responsibility is food, water, shelter, companionship, education and safety. Then I hear women with children (not sure they should be called Moms) say they are scared of guns, they don’t want them in their house or anywhere around their children. If there was a threat they would just call the police. While I am more than willing to admit perhaps I’m being too judgmental, an occasional failing, I can’t help but think if you didn’t want them, why did you have them? You have a smoke detector, a fire extinguisher, the pediatrician and Domino’s Pizza on speed dial, but one of the most urgent situations you could ever face you are willing to wait till someone can get there to help you. And you assume help will always be able to get there on time do you? Wow. Awesome.

So on this Mother’s Day, thanks Mom, I applaud you, and your “True Grit”. One of the highest compliments in our family, True Grit. And she has it.