Average Moms Wear Capes

No one knows exactly what they're in for when they first see that "positive" on the pregnancy test.

They think they know because they've read every book and they've scoured the internet and they've polled their own mother and all of their friends.

But the realization of the magnitude of motherhood doesn't come until that lovely painful live birthing session and even then it's as if the realization part revisits you over and over again like an infomercial payment plan, easy installments of $19.99, throughout the duration of your entire life.

(Only they're not really "easy" installments.)

Each day brings insurmountable happiness strung together by a necklace of teeny tiny and constant heart attacks.

Is the baby breathing? Is that substance a weird color? Why hasn't he pooped yet, it's been 5 days!? Six weeks is up already, I have to go back to work?!

And with each year, there comes more happiness and more heart attacks, only of a different kind.

Where did he disappear to? When do I do preschool? (You mean there's already a waiting list?) What's the number for poison control!?

And with each year you even get to have your own personal identity crises (plural).

I don't know who I am now that I'm not working! I'm not with them enough now that I'm working! I want to do everything, be everything and I can't get it together! (Can I still wear that?)

But it's through them, that we find out what we're made of. We figure out what our principles are, who we want to be.

And we become people we never thought we would.

And even though most of the time we feel like we have no idea what on earth we are doing, it almost never looks like that on the outside.

Sometimes we even get to see that what we're doing, what we worry about, what we spend all of our sleepless nights thinking about, is actually working.

The smiles, the big fat juicy hugs and kisses, the unprompted "I love yous," when they turn to you at your ugliest and frumpiest and say, "Mom, you look pretty."

We may not all be CEOs of companies, have Harvard degrees or be super models, and anyway that's not the stuff that makes a super mom a super mom.

It's what they think a super mom is. And that's you. 

They may not always like us, but they always, always love us.

From food shopping with a cart full of screaming kids to the frolicking on the playground and playing ball and (failing at) kite flying and tantrums and blankies and all the highest highs and all of the lowest lows and everything in between, the average mom already does it all.

The average mom is the real super mom.

Because AVERAGE MOMS WEAR CAPES. 

Happy Mother's Day to all of the mommies, mommies to be, grandmommies, puppy and kitty mommies, godmommies and every category of mommy there is.

Today we honor YOU.

This is your day.

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