Mama Brain vs. The Sharks

My lovely husband and I threw the 5 youngest kids into the car this evening to drive 7 hours to the North Carolina border islands to drop our 14-year-old off at scuba camp on Sunday. This future marine biologist/conservationist decided in 4th grade that this was his career of choice. Every gift giving occasion he asked for the big boring books filled with beautiful ocean specimens like angelfish and blue dragons. They also had creatures that reminded me of some of the internet connections I dated before I met my lovely husband, like sad looking blobfish, stalker anglerfish, or creepy cuttlefish that change to adapt to any environment. He rewatched Blue Planet so much that David Attenborough now feels like family. He’s obsessed. He’s also my kid that wants to save the world and all the creatures in it. In kindergarten he came home and told me with his adorable little lisp that he was going to “ssss-ave my head fow sssaint baldwicksss to help kids wiff cancerww.” He did it two years in a row and raised more than $1000 for St. Baldrick’s. In 1st grade he learned that some kids don’t have enough food and he wanted to help them. He asked me to help him learn to grow food and then donated it to a local food pantry. Then he did a TEDTalk at school to encourage other little kids to help get people food too. He came into the world like this, genuine, empathetic, and 100% in.

As moms we have these two different brains, the normal, logical human brain that helps us do stuff like earn a paycheck, pay the bills mostly on time, and make good choices. But then we have our Mama Brain that poofed into existence the second we saw that faint blue line or held or saw our kids for the very first time. And Mama Brain is a wonder. It’s only purpose is PROTECT THE YOUNGLINGS AT ALL COSTS. When Mama Brain kicks in, it boots logical brain down the road like pea gravel under a Jeep tire so that we focus solely on saving the loinfruit. This is what is kicking in tonight as my lovely husband drives us ever closer to the coast. My logical brain is the one that thought, 1) my kid loves scuba diving and marine conservation, 2) he needs something to do this summer, and 3) if I can drive to it, it’s probably cheaper, so logical brain researched this camp and signed him up. Logical brain filled out all the forms, paid the tuition, helped complete the packing list, and prepped the family for the trip. She is very efficient and effective. But as my husband leads our packed car over the North Carolina/South Carolina Border, Mama Brain kicks in hardcore. She screams “I spent money to hand my kid over to strangers for a week for them to shove him into the ocean repeatedly?!? What is WRONG with me?!?” Logical brain KNOWS he’ll be fine. It’s a safe program, with trained leaders, and he’s a cautious, aware human, which is why I let him learn scuba diving at all. Logical brain tells me that this is a good idea because it will be a transformational experience for him, my deep-thinking kid who gleans meaning from the mundane. This could help him determine if this is the life path he wants to take. But Mama Brain doesn’t care about any of that. She’s the one that wakes me from a deep sleep to grab my phone and Google “how to fight off a shark” so I can advise my boy accordingly. Mama Brain replays every horrible potentiality of this situation. What if he is attacked by a shark (according to Google there are 3 large shark breeds off the coast of North Carolina)? What if his long hair gets caught on a shipwreck? What if his tank runs out of oxygen? What if the boat breaks down and he ends up with a volleyball for a best friend forever?!? I even fret over the minor worries; What if they don’t have enough snacks? What if he doesn’t get along with his roommates? What if he’s the only kid with a non-white-kid name? I could (and do) drive myself insane, Mama Brain is like that sometimes.

Here's the parental superpower that I have though. I jumble all these logical brain and Mama Brain thoughts together into a coherent pot of worry and I talk to my kid. I ask HIM how he’s feeling, and he says nervous and excited then we talk about why. And in talking to this intelligent young man, I share a toned-down version of my own worries, so he sees that nervous is normal (see logical brain, IT’S NORMAL). We look at the Facebook pictures of other scuba campers who have less experience than him and they’ve all seemingly been returned to their parents with all body parts not eaten by sharks. And we talk about his hopes for this trip and what he wants to get out of it and now we’re both more excited than scared.

As I send him off to bed, I remind myself that my biggest big fear as a parent is that my children won’t choose a life that is theirs, they’ll emulate mine because that’s what they’ve seen. I don’t want them to relive my life. I want them to live big and find their passions (even ones that are totallllllly different than my book nerd ones, like going into the ocean) and experience them. I want them to make mistakes and fail and be sad and mad and frustrated and nervous. I want them to bounce back and learn how resilient they are and how strong, and smart, and capable they are in this world. I want them to live the lives that mean the most to THEM. And they can’t do that if all they experience is me and my world. That is what THIS camp is about, helping my boy find his path in this world. THAT settles my Mama Brain, knowing that while the tonight thoughts are hard, these are the experiences that teach him how to protect and grow himself, so Mama Brain can take a minute off of worry…for this kid at least. And reminding him that a swift punch to the nose is the best way to fight off a shark.