Super Mama

This morning the decision was easy: my son was too sick to go to church. While not sick enough to need the doctor, his coughing and sneezing (and spraying) meant that he would not be popular with the nursery helpers. A little rock, paper, scissors and I found myself sitting at home, nursing my sick child.

As I looked into his sick eyes, my heart broke for him. I wished I could just give him a dose of medicine and make everything all better. With the latest restrictions on cold and cough medicines, I felt even more powerless to ease his suffering.

After an acetominophen-induced nap, he seemed to feel a little better. I know we will just have to ride this one out; it will last as long as it lasts, since there's no miracle cure for the common cold. Even though I'm glad he isn't suffering with something worse, this illness is another reminder that my powers as a supermom only reach so far.

I hate to break the illusion of my kids that I have the ability to fix every problem and heal every injury. When they have an injury I can magically erase with a kiss, we're both happy. When they come to me crying because their ball went over the fence, I am more than happy to find a way to retrieve it. Some things are so easy to fix. I wish everything could be that way.

I know that my superpowers are limited, but I'd like to maintain my heroine status for as long as possible. Of course, now you know my secret identity. Just don't tell my kids.

(Photo by Esparta)

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melanie