"Super Mom"

I struggle with the term "Super Mom".  I am frequently accused of being one, and yet I don't think they exist.

Why do people call me "Super Mom"?  I don't have any super-human powers.  If I did, I would like to have Elastigirl's super stretchy ability.  I could grab that other book from that other room, stir the whatever-I'm-cooking, confiscate a toy that the kids are fighting over downstairs, or better yet, smack that kid who just tormented his little brother AGAIN!

Actually, my super-human dream is to be Molly Weasley.  I just love her! 

I saw a shirt that said, "Sticks and stones may break your bones, but Mrs. Weasley's glare will liquify your kidneys."  Who wouldn't want that power?  Plus, she is rockin' the red hair and she has a flock of boys with one little girl.  Yeah, kind of like someone else I know...

That's me... oh yeah.


Anywho, I think the title of "Super Mom", with all its baggage is thrown at any woman who has at least one child and any interest outside of exclusive focus on said child and their bowel habits.  The problem with that is that "Super Mom" implies all sorts of things that a woman doesn't need to hear:

• You must always be happy and on top of things.  Super Moms are never frustrated, sad, or tired.
• Your kids must never misbehave (or you will lose your "Super" status if they do)
• You have no problems in your relationships. 
• You are full of talent - which means (obviously) that there is nothing you can not do.  
• You know everything.
• EVERY day is productive.

We women already have enormous expectations of ourselves, and engage in unfair comparisons to others (ie- our weaknesses against their strengths).  Adding these implied expectations of a "Super Mom" means that Mom is NEVER going to feel equal to the task.  There is always that feeling of failure.  Whenever someone calls me "Super Mom", all I can think of is when I screamed myself hoarse at the kids for making us late for school, that I forgot about dinner until it was too late for anything but spaghetti or worse: popcorn.  I think about the stack of Christmas decoration bins and to-be-filed books and paperwork that are taking up my half of the bedroom, or that my husband has been feeling particularly neglected lately.  I think about the tantrum my 4 yr old threw at church that was so bad we were asked to leave the building because no one could hear.  I think about the fact that I haven't even entered my laundry room let alone DONE any laundry for almost 2 months.  (I have a wonderful man... otherwise we would never have clean socks.) 

So at the end of the day, who lives up to the "Super Mom" title?  By the definitions we give it and assume we are expected to live by, no one does!  We are all flawed human beings, both capable and incapable of many things.  We are tender at times and harsh at others.  We have our "on top of it" days and the days when we look up from Facebook only to find that it's time to pick up the kids from school and make dinner.  Where does the time go?  We are passionate lovers, and so neglectful of our husbands that they seriously consider monastery life.  We are all of these and more!

In fact, as I am writing this (at my doctor's office, getting a physical for our upcoming adoption of a special-needs toddler - because I'm "SO awesome"), my husband just texted me to say that our 4 yr old, who was playing with his siblings in the snow, got left outside, couldn't open the door, and was hysterically crying because he thought he would have to stay out there forever and freeze to death.

Do the things I do right make me a great mom?  
Do the things I do wrong make me a bad mom?

Let's make a deal: I'll wear the cape if you promise to accept that you (and I, and every other flesh-and-blood mother, INCLUDING Molly Weasley) is deeply flawed AND wonderful.