Stop, Drop, and Roll

I used to live in Santa Cruz, California while I was a grad student. My dissertation research focused on a parasitic plant called dodder - a name alarmingly similar to "daughter". It grew in salt marshes along the coast which is where I spent most of my time, smeared with mud, running experiments and documenting patterns of its growth.

Much of the land surrounding those marshes were beautiful rolling meadows of tall grass with high quantities of ticks and low quantities of mountain lions. That's what I'd always tell myself when I was out there alone - the quantities of mountain lions are exceptionally low here! Would you stop turning around every 3 minutes to check if one's behind you? But I just couldn't shake the nagging thoughts that I might see one out there - and be armed with nothing more menacing than a sharpie and some ziplocks.

My mind wouldn't stop, and soon I would move beyond the sighting to the inevitable attack I would endure once I had been discovered by the man-eating cat. How would I respond? What would I do to defend myself besides waving around a few permanent markers? This was where the real fear set in, as I started imagining the sounds of twigs snapping under foot and tall grasses being pushed aside by the stealthy predator. My mind would be swamped with every single safety order I could remember - Make lots of noise! RUN!! Stand your ground. Make yourself appear bigger than you are! MAINTAIN EYE CONTACT. Under no circumstances should you make eye contact. Play dead! Run and tell the nearest adult. STOP, DROP, AND ROLL!! I mean, who in their right mind could actually remember any of these instructions at the time when they are intended to be helpful?

When I was trying to decide on a name for this blog, I thought "Stop, Drop, and Roll" would be a good one because this story of the imaginary mountain lion is a lot like being a parent. There are tons of "recommendations" for parenting that are constantly being changed on us at such an alarming rate that it becomes hard to remember what the current recommendation is anymore. Don't eat peanut butter while you're pregnant! Eat lots of it and start your baby on it within the first year! Don't allow your child to see a jar of peanut butter until age 4! Introduce solids at 4 months! Wait until 6 months! Sleep with your baby! Under no circumstances should you sleep with your baby! The list is endless. And many of these "recommendations" are issued with the same intensity as those intended to save you from a mountain lion attack. I guess the only difference is that while you can rely on your instincts for child rearing, the same will hardly make a difference with a mountain lion.