Superwoman or Saint?
Last night we went to bed at 9:00. At 10:30 I was lying in a bed of cracker crumbs on a water balloon for a stomach and beginning to fantasize about what a relief it would be to vomit. A few hours later, when I was lying on the bathroom floor, it was clear that Shaun would be calling in to work in a few hours. Only what I didn't know then was that Shaun had an important meeting with executives at his new job; a job he'd very much prefer to keep. (Enter Wonder Woman, a.k.a "mom" and/or "Honey.")
Receiving a phone call at 6:30 a.m., my mom was surprisingly chipper, as though she'd been expecting to hear from us. Nevermind that she's throwing a shower for someone tomorrow and had a million things to do. She made some calls and said she'd be here at 9:30. I told you- Saint.
So Wonder Woman makes a mad dash to get down to Orlando and enters the house like she was coming straight from the Red Cross itself. She didn't even open the bedroom door where I lay ailing for some time, but knew what was needed without being told. She busily entertained the kids, made them grilled cheese, a grocery list, started the laundry, and cleaned the molded cake stand that's mocked me ever since Aunt Caitlin left. She put Madalyn down for nap and went to the store with Evan, (which is like accepting the bonus challenge,) and then carried 5 loads of groceries up the stairs to our apartment and cleaned out and restocked my fridge- (for me, this alone is enough to want to call it a day.) But not for a Super-Hero with superpowers, no, no. And shortly thereafter, I was served Gatorade, peanut butter crackers, and chicken noodle-o soup. When all was said and done she'd played with the children as though she'd brought magic with her, cooked up a chicken and rice casserole and fresh vegetables for dinner, changed a hundred diapers and refillled a thousand sippy cups, and tackled 4 woppin' loads of laundry.
You see I may have been sick as a mutt dying in the street alley, but I still heard everything that was going on. Not once did Wonder Woman lose her patience with the kids, but quite the opposite- she delighted in everything they said and though her hands were busy, she was still completely attentive and responsive. She makes the daily jobs I get done around here look downright shotty. Where does she get this energy? Maybe she keeps steroids on hand...I'll have to ask...
You know we all start out as new parents determined to do it better than anyone ever has before, even our own parents. We think we get handed this clean slate and all we have to do is not mess it up. (RIGHT.) In order for that theory to hold water, we'd have to be baggage-free. (We ain't.) And after experiencing my mother's skills at this motherhood thing today, and in light of her productivity, I now realize any new slate I take up different than the one she established would be a regression. When she left I wanted to throw myself around her ankles and beg her not to go- just a week- that was all I needed. She had mentioned that the place could use abotu four more days of work from her and I had been hoping it was an offer. The only thing that could've improved upon her remarkable job here today would have been if she'd arrived with a little bell for me to keep on my bedside table so I could jingle for her on command.
But time to suck it up and be a big girl again. Come tomorrow I'll have to get my own Gatorade and crackers and the thought, quite honestly, makes me want to cry. To think so many women have husbands off at war and go through this alone- and so many go through so much worse just to survive Chemo treatments...and yet listen to me whine! Oh the injustice of my self-pity!
Anyway- I'm signing out with a salute to Wonder Woman and a bow and applause for mothers everywhere!
