This makes sense because he insists on me immediately providing him with oatmeal even when he can see me taking steps to prepare it with his own two eyes. I can even say, "I'm heating the water for your oatmeal." and then Joshua will reply, "Where's my oatmeal?" When it comes to breakfast, neither of the boys seem to really care about my dining experience. I may have just sat down with a nice bowl of crunchy frosted mini-wheats, when in no time at all I am told by one of the boys, "I am out of milk" or "I dropped my spoon". I look around the room trying to figure out who they are telling this to. Surely, they don't expect me to jeopardize my cereal to help them. But actually, they do. I wonder if they think I have super speed that allows me to conjure up their breakfasts without my own suffering with soggy cereal. Or maybe they think I'm so invincible that soggy cereal is no concern for me. Perhaps that's the case.
Speaking of meals, I want to know why it is that no matter what I ask Joshua he wants to eat, he somehow always decides to change his mind once the meal is served to him. Again, perhaps he thinks I have super powers to reverse time and prepare him his new choice instead of what is in front of him. The other day we packed our lunch for a day trip. I have several witnesses who can attest that he did actually agree to peanut butter and jelly... and yet when we opened the lunch bag he wanted ham and cheese and insisted that he had asked for that in the first place. Since I have no powers of time travel, I was only able to convince him to eat what I had made him (so he could then have his pudding).
It seems that the boys really do think I am powerful enough to multi-task like a super hero. They really do think I can get their drink at the same time that I am vacuuming or that I can find the remote when it's buried under couch cushions. When I get Joshua dressed every morning he yells at me... literally yells at me... to put on his socks- while I am still putting on his pants. As if I could do both at once... as if. I'll tell you what's super human; putting on this kids' shoes while he tries to run away and kicks his feet around.
In movies super heros are treated with respect... and awe. No one can believe how powerful they are and they are forever in dept to their service. Superman never had to tell one of the people he saved to say, "Thank you". Wonderwoman never had to prompt- "Now what do you say, Dear?"
I've got no super powers. At best, I have super hearing... but that's only because of the baby monitors we have around the house. Instead I have to figure out how to prepare Josh's oatmeal, put on his socks and pick out the right pants all at the same time that I am buttering Liam's english muffin and putting it on a blue plate (god forbit it's pink) with apple juice in a glass cup. Plus there's the stuff they don't think about that a mom does need to remember... like returning library books, vacuuming the floors and washing winter coats because they keep rubbing up against the dusty salty car.
Or maybe I'm just reading into it too much. Maybe Joshua just called me "Super Mommy" because he wanted me to stop worrying so much about the vacuuming, whose spoon is on the floor and what flavor oatmeal he asked for. Maybe he wanted me to just stand with him on the sofa and take a flying leap and then a roll onto the floor. Maybe he just wanted me to play Super Heros with him... after I put on his socks.
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