Losing My "Super"

My blogging has taken a backseat to my chaotic personal life.

Potty-training successes and relapses. Summer vacations and sports (including the kids' first ever swim lessons). All this built up to taking my boss's hours at our daycare last week, so she could enjoy a summer vacation.

This summer has been wonderful. I've really enjoyed the fenced-in backyard and new house, as well as our Y membership (though I've yet to use it to exercise) and pool.

But one fact is clear. This SuperMom is losing her superpowers.

I've learned that no child is the same. I've known that for a long time, experienced it in teaching, but it wasn't until I've raised three different children that I LIVED it.

Rudy D. was a passionate and sensitive child, eager to please. He's loved books and would beg me to read them over and over until he had them memorized. He loved playing by himself, racing with me down the street, and doing whatever he could to make Mom happy. Potty-training was easy. Discipline not so much. But once we passed the 2s, the 3s proved easier (or maybe it seemed so, because I had twin one year olds to chase around).

Enter the twins. From day 1, they've been so different and so similar. The best way to describe them is unpredictable. Some moments, they're cuddly and cute, giggling in a way that melts your heart. Then the next, one is screaming and hitting, while the other is throwing everything within reach on the floor. I open the front door to load them in the car, and they follow each other 1-2 doors down and laugh when you order, ask, threaten, and bribe them to come back. The only thing that works is to go down on your knees with your arms out wide and yell, "They call me 'Mister Pig.' Ahhh!" (Lion King).

We have successful potty-training days, where no diapers are needed. Then we have days, where they've gone everywhere--from their carseats and strollers to our wooden floors. It's enough to drive a person utterly insane. And I've spent most of my summer alone with them. Though my husband has had more evening and weekends off, but up until last week, I was working one day a week.

I've been distracted and exhausted all the time. On my computer for writing/editing, Facebook to stay connected with other adults, and my email. We played outside. We went to the zoo. But I was so, so exhausted. It's nonstop trashing and cleaning, running around after them, cleaning up after them, and then the house...I was embarrassed how behind I was. I tried to just keep the main level of the house clean, but I'm vacuuming and sweeping at least twice a day. I'm throwing laundry and toys down the stairs to the basement, and then every evening, somehow, the house looks like a tornado spewed everywhere.

My super has drained from me. My powers dissolving beneath the terror of my twins.

I even passed some of my super to my son, who has learned to vacuum the carpet and pick up the living room. But then it hit me--and crushed me--my son is starting kindergarten. My sweet, loving, adorable helper will be going to school, starting a brand new journey with unexplored worries and fears for his mom. And on Sunday, I taught his Sunday School class for the last time (I'm moving up to the older kids' class). While we curled up on the couch watching HOME, I cried.

I mourned losing my baby, my helper, to the real world with its problems. I mourned losing my SuperMom powers. I mourned the reality that I'm not in control. And then I prayed.

I'm getting excited now for my son. He's got an amazing teacher and is going to a wonderful school. We went back-to-school shopping, and he picked out a new backpack. And he made me promise to send him with a picture of me in case he misses me.

I'm not a SuperMom anymore. I've lost my Super--my powers. I focus on today and today alone. I focus on survival and meeting everyone's basic needs. I focus on love.

And if there's one aspect of my Superpowers I haven't lost, it's love. There not one person in my house that doubts my love for them, and they reciprocate it in hugs and kisses, giggles and dancing. That's all I need for today.