Liz here again for another of her Hot Takes (tm). This will probably get ranty but I also think that’s par for the course in this wacky post-pandemic pre-pocalypse world.
We’ve all heard the phrase. “Mama Bear.” Rather than conjuring images of a majestic beast protecting her precious cubs, it smacks of all the worst trappings associated with a basic bitch. A basic bitch who is, perhaps, a beast, but never majestic.
Taking on the Mama Bear mantle bestows upon the wearer the bulletproof illusion that she is THE BEST PARENT IN THE UNIVERSE. No one could ever protect her children as Mama Bear does. Her children are shining examples of personhood, perfect little gems who could never do wrong! This is a good thing, because much of Mama Bear’s time is spent:
Stopping at Starbucks
Wiping her Uggs
Perfecting her vocal fry
Yogaaaaaaa
Starby’s again!
Emailing threats to teachers (until Mama Bear decides that no one is clever enough to teach her perfect li’l creatures and moves into home-schooling territory)
Haranguing her husband
Making grammatically incorrect tumblers with her Cricut to hold her and her friends’ wine at children’s sporting endeavors
Feelin’ a little peaked, gonna hit the Starby’s
Mommy blogging
Terrifying other drivers on the road in her minivan/SUV which is far too large for her park effectively and is peppered with orthodontist and stick-figure family stickers
Rest assured that this list is not exhaustive. The Mama Bear will go to extremes to ensure everyone around her knows just how amazing she is, how tiring it is to constantly advocate for her children (whether they need it or not), how little time she has for herself in between running the precious rugrats to the myriad activities for which she herself has signed them up (and in which they probably lost interest four years ago, but “WE AREN’T QUITTERS” - Mama Bear).
The Mama Bear’s husband is barely functional. Just ask Mama Bear. He works a high-level job (if Mama Bear is lucky) to provide for Mama Bear’s “needs” (which include being a stay-at-home mom), but he doesn’t take initiative and she HAS TO DO EVERYTHING AROUND THE HOUSE, LIKE, ARE YOU KIDDING. Conversations with her Mama Buddies bounce between talking up everyone’s various and inevitably annoying-as-fuck crotch fruit, and discussing how stupid and useless their husbands are.
At the end of the day, Mama Bear is just Karen with a Kid.
What Mama Bears don’t realize is that….. ALL (involved and mostly mentally well) PARENTS LOVE THEIR KIDS. Like, I would die for my kids. I won’t make phone calls to schedule appointments for myself, but you better believe I’ll be on the phone if they need something. Because I’m a mom, and they’re my kids.
The only difference between Mama Bears and moms is that when my kids grow up and start living their own lives, I won’t have an existential crisis due to defining myself by the creatures I made the same way humanity has been procreating for thousands of years now.
If the above doesn’t pertain to you, then you’re not a Mama Bear. Let’s start recognizing it for the insult it is and stop using it as anything else.
Thanks for coming to my stupid Ted Talk.