Superhuman
Alex Steinman
Do you ever feel like your house is on fire, but you can't deal with it because two people are yelling at you simultaneously, while you are talking to Comcast (the anti-Christ), trying to "cook" dinner (macaroni and turkey slices) and applying nipple cream? Well then you must have children.
Individually, mine are lovely human beings, and together this pretty much sums it up:
During the day on maternity leave, #QueenZee and I enjoy snuggles, walks and approximately eight hours of the Today Show. She's an extremely good sleeper, thanks to my massive boobs that smother her face and fill her with what I assume is wine. My potted-plant of a baby is pretty predictable.
#Gingerdad has been working late, so from the minute I do daycare pick-up for #Gingerbaby, the predictability of my day disappears, and I turn into a fucking superhuman. I grow extra limbs and patience in these golden hours. #QueenZee is suspended from my boobs (look ma, no hands!), while I cook, entertain, bathe, argue and console the house dictator. I am Usain Bolt in the sprint to bedtime, complete with a chest-pounding celebration at the end.
I didn't realize how truly amazing mamas are until I cleaned Cooper pee out of a tub while holding a Nuk in Z's wailing mouth, singing "tinkle tinkle little star," and dialing my husband to find out when the fuck he was coming home. Once I closed the bedroom door on the toddler, it was time for my own dinner (microwave nachos) and time to start working on the side hustle (t-shirts, contracting and board positions). I swapped boobs a few more times, and tried to keep the baby's feet from deleting all my files.
I don't paint this picture to be like, "look at me, I'm the only mom to ever have two kids and live to talk about it." I share this because most internet moms post pictures of their perfect kids, and their perfect house, and their perfect clothes, and it makes me feel like, "why are my boobs touching my belly?" They must have some secret filter that makes tantrums, dried food and stretchmarks disappear.
Let's be real. We all love our kids, but they are crazy people, and they make us crazy people. You're doing a fucking good job keeping it together even when you feel like you're not. Whether the chaos is your life or a moment in your life, you are a superhuman, mama. Your cape has boogers and spit up on it, and you look damn good. You deserve a bottle of wine and a gluten-full cupcake, so cheers to you and bottoms up.
P.S. You might also like Maternity Leave for Dummies.