As a scientific-type person, I base most of my assumptions and decisions on things that I can observe, with a slight sprinkling of “gut” and intuition. Often the answers to things that vex you are right in front of you if only you look. That being said, I think I’ve made a remarkable discovery: I am endowed with super powers.
No really. It’s true. I present my evidence:
- If Felix has crapped himself, my nose is the only one keen enough to detect it. Obviously I have been gifted with some sort of superhuman nose – a nose capable of detecting one part per million poo odor in any given atmosphere. It’s uncanny. If we are all hanging out around the house, I’m the only one that seems to be able to smell it. Poor Will and his mere mortal nose… He’s missing out.
- As a second line of evidence, before my husband will consume even a sip of milk, I must smell it. The sell-by date is meaningless. Only my preternatural nose can deem it drinkable. I’m amazing.
- Corrective lenses be damned, my eyes can see things that no other member of my household can. Overflowing cans of trash, recycling bins, laundry baskets. They are like shades to all but me. What I do find curious – and perhaps this is reflective of powers of their own – is that my family can somehow manage to cram one more dirty diaper, one more shirt, one more empty bottle into these things without somehow resulting in a smelly avalanche. Perhaps they are amazing.
- In that same vein, I have superhuman strength. I am the only one capable of carrying trash, recycling, laundry to its ultimate destination. I am powerful.
- My ears obviously can hear an individual flower growing. This is surely why I’m the only one that hears the kids in the night, when they’re upset, and especially when they’re fighting. That last one, however, is most curious. I would think you could hear my kids fighting from outer space. Regardless, I kick ass.
- I can “Hulk Smash” when I become angry. I just don’t turn green. And I don’t really smash. I do banish kids to time out. And when I’m in HulkMom mode, they don’t even contest it. I am strong.
- And surely I’ve been exposed to some sort of alien energy crystal. How else can I get up, get myself dressed for work, unload the dishwasher, pull clothes for the family, sort out breakfast, pack lunches, make it to work for an 8 hour day, pick up kids from school, bring kids home for bath, cook dinner, clean up after dinner, read books to kids, and put kids to bed (squeezing in homework when necessary) without falling over? Day after day after day? There are loads of days that also involve and include laundry, sweeping, and my personal favorite – cleaning up cat puke. I am a boss.
- Did you know I have a computer in my brain? That’s the only explanation for how I keep appointments, birthdays, holidays, field trips, due dates, assignments, and any other assorted upcoming event sorted out. Damn, I’m good.
I should no doubt wait until Mother’s Day to post this (and yes, I know there are some superdads out there as well), as I am pretty damn sure I’m not the only one out there with these types of abilities. I have a feeling I’m not an army of one, but an army of thousands; only too bad we are all deployed in different wars. Our powers can be a burden, but are also a gift – a gift that allows us to survive without losing our collective shit.
So I’m going to give myself some kudos today – a pat on the back. I’m not going to worry about how big my butt is, how sometimes I feed my kids hot dogs for dinner, how my house isn’t clean enough, how I’m not good at doing hair, how I suck at giftwrapping. I’m going to stand in the sunlight and be proud, if only for a moment. I encourage y’all to do the same (I mean, be proud of you – not me).