Why the title “Moms With Guns?”
Lets start with Confession Time. I have two main fears in life that tend to push me towards um…paranoia. The first has to do with vehicles and human life and the second has to do with ever facing and dealing with really mean men. I guess they each stem from past experiences and maybe I need therapy, but I really want to get rid of them.
Fear #1 stems from an accident I was in my senior year of high school. Aside from my mom’s van being totaled, everything ended up being okay but those first few minutes before I knew if the person/persons in the other car survived were so horrific. After that experience (and witnessing a couple of others), I have become quite paranoid when it comes to cars. My poor husband has to deal with me flinging my arms out and slamming on my “invisible brake pedal” every time anything out of the ordinary appears within our travel (and even we are completely safe). So I guess I’m to the point that I realize I have issues and am wondering if anyone has been able to solve this problem. Never getting in a vehicle again isn’t an option in today’s world (especially for someone who loves to travel), I’m hoping to gather some brighter solutions. Any ideas?
Fear #2 seems to have some more logical solutions and this fear also stems from a childhood experience. I was twelve years old and my cousin asked me to stay home from school and babysit her toddler while she went to a court hearing. Now for a little background: My cousin conceived this child with a man who ended up having very evil intentions when it comes to children (I won’t get into details). This toddler feared her father so much that she would cry in fear and vomit when being told that she had to go for a visit. My cousin was fighting for full custody so that this poor little girl could be free of him and have live a happy life. She gave me these instructions: “Please lock the doors the moment I leave, and shut the blinds and don’t answer the door or the phone.” She had no idea what desperate measure this man might go to if he thought he might lose the custody battle. Long story short, she left and I quickly forgot her instructions as we started playing.
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Then the door bell rang. Knowing I shouldn’t answer the door but letting my curiosity get the better of me, I compromised and decided I would just peek through the window to see if it was one of my neighbors. It wasn’t. It was a very scary-looking man (in the eyes of a 12-year old) with scruff and missing teeth. I quickly took the little girl downstairs and we began to play again. But I couldn’t get my mind of the image of the scary man. And that’s when I realized I had never shut the blinds in the back of the house and decided to go close them. That’s when I saw three men climbing onto our deck, and onto our roof. And that’s also when the pounding at the back door started. I thought to myself: One man is trying to break down the back door, and the others are going to try to get in through the chimney!
I don’t think I will ever forget the paralyzing fear that came over me that morning. I remember sitting curled up in the basement with firm grips on my cousin’s little girl. She had recognized the fear in my voice at this point and was crying. I tried to tell her everything was going to be okay, but deep down I felt the opposite. I don’t know why I was too scared to call 911, but I called my neighbor. She tried to calm me down so that she could hear what I was saying, and then assured me that she was walking out the door to take her girls to the bus stop and would check on things for me. It may have only been minutes of waiting, but at the time it felt like hours waiting for her to call back. I convinced myself she was dead and at this point I was too scared to even move, as the pounding seemed to get louder and more intense. I began thinking about my mom and my family and wishing I could see them just one more time.
Then the phone rang. It was my neighbor. I was furious that she was at home while my life was still in danger and I began to freak out. She finally calmed me down enough to say, “It’s okay. I was just at your house. Your mom forgot to tell you that the roof repair men were coming today to fix some shingles right above the back door. The pounding is actually hammers right above the back door”
So back to the main point of this post: moms with guns. What reminded me of this childhood experience was an article I read in the news a week or so ago. A man broke into this lady’s home and she hid in a crawl space with her two children. Luckily, she had a gun, had just recently learned how to use it just weeks prior, and was able to shoot the perpetrator before she or her children were harmed. As I read her story I thought back to my childhood experience and the paralyzing fear that I felt not being prepared for the situation. Now that I am a mom, rather than shrink in paralyzing fear, I want to be prepared to protect my children should the need arise. After reading her story I told my husband that I want to take a class and have my own gun.
Since then I have thought about it more and would like to get the opinions of other moms. What are your thoughts on moms with guns? Do you own and know how to use one? I don’t think I want to actually carry one, but I want to know where one is in my house and how to use it. I have however looked into carrying a stun gun or a taser. These appeal to me a little more as I would rather not kill another human being. Do any of you moms carry either of these? I believe I have to actually take a class to own a taser, but what I didn’t know is that I can buy a stun gun for relatively cheap (around $20) off of Amazon. I also learned that they come in all different styles, some made to look like cell phones or flash lights.
I was hoping by writing this post that I could get some opinions of other moms. Do you have a plan should an intruder arrive? Do you carry a stun gun, taser, or mace in your purse (and if you do are there any concerns that your children could accidentally get a hold of them? Do you own a gun?