Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Not Supermom

I don't like the whole "Super Mom" term. I use it in jest, but really I feel like it places unfair value on mothering. I feel like what I do is what's required of a mom. I don't have super powers. I remember the nurse at our pediatrician's office smiling sweetly at me once and saying, "You really ARE supermom." She was impressed, I guess, that I was toting 3 sick kids, one in a wrap, one holding my hand, and the other toting my diaper bag. I blushed, I know, and thanked her, but really it's just part of having three kids.

Yesterday, though, I received and unexpected comment that went a long way.

I was doing my normal Tuesday routine. I dropped Chloe at gymnastics, then headed to Wal-Mart with the babies to get the weekly shopping done (in under an hour). It's not the easiest task, but it sure beats making another trip, so it's what works for me. Being a baby-wearer, I strap Case on my chest, buckle K in the cart seat, and power through with my list. Usually we make it through without a problem, but I won't lie. There have been tantrums. I have left before finishing my shopping. I have forgotten important items, and I've even been late picking Chloe up.

But mostly it works.

I was almost finished shopping when I remembered K had been asking for "gwapes." I made a sharp turn into the produce section and headed back toward the grapes.

"POTATOES!" I declared, making an abrupt stop and turn. "I almost forgot the potatoes," I told K, who was oblivious as she had her eye on the grapes down the aisle.

"GWAPES!" she announced, pointing her little finger.

We wheeled around the guy stocking bananas and began looking at the grapes.

"Which kind would you like?" I asked her. There were three color choices, and I know she likes green, but I was feeding her autonomy.

"BLACK!" she exclaimed. She's still working on colors ;)

"There are purple, green, or red," I told her, pointing out each color.

"I wanna pickkum owt!" she said, standing up in her seat. I put my arm under her bottom and lifted her from the cart, trying to be patient while she scanned the bags. Don't forget, I have 18 lb Case hanging from my chest, and now 26lb K on my hip. She looked and looked, when finally I said, "You'll have to pick something or I'm going to choose for you."

"BLACK!" she yelled, grabbing the bag of green grapes.

Banana Guy snickered and I turned toward him, not sure what his comment was about to be, and ready to defend my poor color-confused 2 year old.

"And THAT is why I have so much respect for moms. One on your chest, one on your hip, and you're still so patient with her. A guy couldn't do it," he said, smiling.

And that pretty much made my day. Because yes, there are GREAT dads, but most of the time it IS the mom in the store handling all the children, meeting all their needs, getting everything on the list, and all the while remembering that Daddy likes a certain cereal, and sister is out of her favorite snack, and there might not be enough dish soap to get through the week (and I JUST realized I forgot to get dish soap).

And that doesn't make me Supermom, but if it earns me the respect of a single, childless, Banana Guy, that makes me proud.