There are some things I’m called more often than I’d like to be called them.
I’m not talking about “you’re the worst mother in the world!” and “you’re ruining my life”.
No things that are meant as compliments. I think.
I don’t like to hear them, partly because I really do not cope with compliments terribly well.
I’m learning though.
I am also asked the same thing more frequently than I like to be asked them, too.
Not “what’s for dinner” and “why are you trying to ruin my life?!”
No, things that are, too, intended as a compliment.
Things like “OMG, you’re a Super Mum” and “I don’t know how you do it! How do you do it?”
I never think I’m a Super Mum, because, well, my cape is still at the bottom of the ironing basket (hahahaha – like I even have an ironing basket, although given the amount of stuff in the basket that is now creased beyond recognition, if not lost, it could very well be perceived as The Ironing Basket … but I digress) and I certainly don’t get around in lycra shorty shorts, because in all honesty that would be super horrendous.
Just call me Blanc-mange Woman! Have you seen my thighs lately? And if you have, what are you doing peering through my bathroom window?
I’m just a person, a woman, going about my business and doing all the things that I choose to do. Sometimes, Life throws in some added chaos, and other times it goes along swimmingly. I experience all the same things that most other humans do, and I really, really dislike mornings. Or, not dislike so much, we’re just not on speaking terms.
I don’t morning well at all.
At a playground, many years ago, I saw a lady with a shirt that had “What’s your super power?” across the back.
I had to understand it so I went and started up a conversation with her. The front of her shirt said “I make milk’.
A fabulous initiative by those providing incredible support to breastfeeding mothers, this statement no doubt empowered them considerably (which is totes awesome, even if I’m not allowed to say “totes” anymore).
I, however, was a little taken aback, for I had experienced some significant hurdles with breastfeeding, issues far worse than having my right nipple partially detached from the rest of my breast.
If that makes you a Super Mum, then I have an equally naturally physiological ‘thing’, just as influenced by biopsychosocial factors. Only mine, under the right conditions, has me experiencing severe bouts of feelings or worthlessness, pointlessness, and wishing I was dead – wooo, go me! I’m awesome!
I don’t mean to demean or dismiss the benefits of breastfeeding, and I completely support it. I just really would like to see the demise of the Super Mum. The term, obviously, not any actually women who call themselves Super Mums.
I’ll stop digging now, I think ….
So, yeah, when I’m called a Super Mum, it grates on me.
When I am asked “How do you do it?” … well, I just do.
Not, obviously, without tears, tantrums and sleepless nights every now and again, and sometimes it’s external factors that cause my sleepless nights, and I have to deal with that, too.
Another question I get more frequently than I’d like, is “If you could have any super power what would it be?”
Obviously not the production of breastmilk, or debilitating depression.
It’s a question the kids ask me lots, and generally when I’m doing something so boringly mundane that I can’t think.
I may have been wrist deep in baby shit, or wrangling a toddler whilst trying to work out where the local supermarket have moved my thing that I purchase every shop. I may be focused entirely on a technical issue, or about to collapse after a crazy day.
I resorted, initially, to respond with “the ability to wee standing up”.
I do think that would be pretty cool.
This, apparently, wasn’t good enough.
I don’t need to be invisible, because I know what the hell they’re up to by sheer noise, or lack of, and when they’re so ensconced in mischief they don’t hear me approaching anyway.
Flying I can forgo; it would ruin the experience of skydiving and suchlike for me.
Extra strength, super stretch, a handful of additional arms … meh.
You know what I’d really, really like the ability to do?
Like, really, really?
The ability to write multiple things at the same time.
To simultaneously, out of my head, get stuff on paper, or into a document, or a program or a something.
To download all the things in my head and into a format that can have something amazing done with it.
That’s what I’d like my super power to be.
What about you? If you could have any super power (and the ability to wee standing up) what would you choose?