Mama Super Powers

This morning my son pronounced that it was mama's super powers that helped him jump down four stairs instead of the usual 3. It briefly assuaged my guilt, but inside I admitted that I am not using my powers for good today. I'm grouchy, short tempered and inpatient.

Why do I see that as a failure, when really, if I follow my own advice to my kids, it is understandable that someone is grumpy and unreasonable sometimes, especially when they are on-call 24 hours a day responding to demands. I always make extra effort to assure others that it is normal to be frustrated and lose your cool at times, it all balances out. It would be better advice if I truly believed it was good advice for me too. I have set up my own double standard. It seems to me that is expected more of us women than men who parent.

I want my kids to observe me during periods of stress so they can know that they do not have to gloss over their struggles or hide their feelings. However, I'm not teaching the full spectrum of coping mechanisms at the moment. Swearing and hollering are not the powers I want to exhibit, but there they are there, hiding under my compassion and generosity powers...lurking under my cape.

Comments

I entered August without you.

I won't visit you this month. You won't call. I will raid your garden and you won't get any of the vegetables. I will make plans without telling you about them. We'll go to the store and not buy you one single thing. Whole books will be read and I will not tell you which ones. I will watch movies and not inform you. The nasturiums will ripen. Last month was different. I changed my schedule and took time off work to be with you. I dropped all kinds of plans for us to be together. You sent me messages, I received them. I picked up food that I thought you would like at the store and sent you pictures of every beautiful thing I saw. I sang with you. We watched the Great Canadian Baking Show. You chose the recipe for the garlic scape pesto and gave me instructions for making the gooseberry jam. I am in August without you. You are in July.

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Growing Versions

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