Superkid

I love my kids in a fierce mother bear sort of way.  I really do.  Even on the hard days when I completely blow it as a mom.  I would like to wear a cape and be supermom.  Really.  That would be great.

There was a time, a few short years ago, that my oldest wanted to wear his Superman cape everywhere. And I do mean everywhere.  I think he did wear it anytime he could, and he had spares that he would encourage me to wear.  Or well, he insisted I wear.  I remember him thinking it was great. Now, he creates fictional super hero stories that would be great books if I could get him to write them down.  The days of wearing capes are over.  It feels like just yesterday we had to lay down the law about wearing that cape to church.  We made him start putting it in the van to be retrieved after the service was over.  I had to insist upon washing it...sanitizing it rather. Now, it lays in a "memory" box as a tribute to his little years.

 He thought he could be superboy, and I could be his supermom.  Sounds about right to his three year old little mind.  How I wish I could fit into the box of hero status.  He'll be ten years old soon.  Double digits.  I feel pretty old, and I still wish I could be a supermom.  But I'll settle for trying every day.  I'll settle for doing my best.

Right now, he's sitting across from me, reading a book, eating a snack, looking way too grown up.  My years with him at home are growing few.  I don't want the next few years to just happen to us.  I want to be intentional.  I want to make them count.