Motherhood. It is a society of women so strong, so fierce, they are in actuality superheroes in spit-up and ketchup-stained disguises. Before becoming a mother, I never realized how much I could have benefited from martial arts training. Now that I’ve been a mother for a handful of years—I don’t need it. I’ve somehow become quite advanced in some pretty sweet ninja-like moves. For example?
I can silently sneak into a room full of sleeping children to extract the one crying child without waking the others.
I can assemble/reassemble the smallest of action figure weaponry, reattach Ninja Turtle limbs, and build complex Lego creations, without instructions…in a dark movie theatre…while paying bills over the phone.
I can catch a child falling from a chair from across the room even before having my morning coffee.
I once saved a choking child in the backseat while driving by reaching back and dislodging a food item from his windpipe with my index finger without ever taking my eyes off the road.
I can unwrap a snack cake in plain view of my children so discretely they don’t even beg for a bite.
I fight invisible monsters so fiercely that a crying child feels safe enough to go back to sleep after having a nightmare.
From October to March, I can kiss, snuggle, and clean the vomit of sick children cycling through endless rounds of strep, flu and stomach virus without getting sick (or when I do get sick, I put some Windex on it and keep it moving).
A true master of disguise, I can duplicate any character on television, and I somehow know the precise way every fictitious storybook character is supposed to sound in real life.
Using pure Jedi power alone, I can go an entire day without ever using the restroom even once.
I can shop at Walmart with four children under seven years old, stop for two potty breaks, load and unload the car—all without needing a psychiatric evaluation. The Walmart bathroom, people. Twice in one trip.
If this sounds like you, welcome my sister. Welcome to an organization of women who are strong enough to keep the entire family running, sweet enough to earn the adoration of our beautiful babies, smart enough to solve the world’s problems, yet humble enough to wipe, and yes, sometimes wear the excrement of other tiny humans.
Go forth, and serve.