I had a meeting regarding a volunteer position this morning. I’ve been involved with this organization for 9 years now. Staff comes and goes. So the staff-people I met with today haven’t been there long. When you tell people, especially people who don’t have kids yet, you have three kids, one of whom was a 26-week micro-preemie, one who is a dancing princess with whom you spend four or five nights a week at the dance studio, and the youngest of whom has an autism spectrum disorder, you usually get *that* look of utter amazement. Today, the “we think you’re a Super Mom” comment was tossed in. I shook my head. Honestly, I’m not a Super Mom. I’m just a mom.
Our lives may look a little chaotic. Maybe the fact I haven’t ended up in the looney bin is shocking to some. Does that make me a Super Mom? Maybe. I could choose to bury my head under my pillow and scream and cry all day. I admitted if someone had told me before Big Man was born what my life was going to look like, I may have run for the hills, screaming my fool head off the entire way. But you live life one day at a time. It doesn’t all come at you at once, thank goodness. And you just do.
I’ve run this around my brain all day long. I don’t believe anything I do is extraordinary. I have too many friends who live pretty close to the same life. Every single person has his or her challenges. Every person has his or her talents. That some people choose to not do doesn’t make those who do anything particularly special. Am I proud of myself? Yeah…my kids are healthy (in the general sense), happy, smart, precious kiddos who are pretty decent human beings. And I still have a life/identity outside of being a mom.
Super Mom? Nah. Just mom. That’s all.