The Momoir Project

I have an online friend, who I have never met in person, but who I came to know through Cori’s online Momoir writing class. We have vowed to keep each other inspired, now that class has ended, by suggesting weekly writing starts to one another. Recently, she suggested we write on Superhero. Here’s my riff on that:

Here are the acts of heroism I have committed in my life: labour, birth, mother. I am a superhero of epic proportions. I clean baby bottles with one hand while putting dishes away with the other. I answer phone calls and make dinner while carrying child on hip. I leap toys in a single bound, step gracefully over baby gates and combat sniffles with my super powers. I am everything to everyone, if nothing to myself.

Superheros don’t cry so I shudder in corners, my head tucked tightly to my knees, my chest heaving silently. Superheros don’t have inadequacies so I guard mine like a careful secret – smiling through tantrums and cooing through feelings of emptiness and despair. Darkness is hidden in sheets, carefully washed, and amidst meals prepared with smiles. Tucked underneath the broccoli or beside the meat.

I am a superhero in the land of motherhood and my identity is locked up inside a silent creed: do and be everything, find pleasure in the depths of selflessness and giving. Never let up or let go. Do. Do. Do.

The truth is I am not heroic: my cape is ill-fitting and I often trip my way through flight. The truth is on a daily basis I feel less than adequate, drained and consumed. I diaper my son and change him each day. I feed him his bottle and prepare his meals. I play beside him, watching his inquisitive eyes glance over object after object contemplating existence carefully. I retreat like a turtle in a shell when he cries incessantly and jump at the opportunity to leave him in the care of another. This is not the stuff of heroism. This is the stuff of defeat.

I am a superhero. I wear the armor of these words and revel in the slow catharsis of their meaning. I am not a superhero. I made it through today, but nobody is counting.

Next week’s writing start: Feeling Strong