Supermom
By Kim Robison

Not too long ago my two-year old son, McKay, donned a scarf and became Superman. He flew around the house with his cape flapping behind him.

Later on when I watched him running in the back yard I thought how nice it was to have Superman back in the family again. With two girls between my oldest son and McKay, I hadn’t realized how much I enjoy this part of boyhood.

Not only have I enjoyed seeing his imagination in action, but also being Superman has helped me deal with his two-year old tendency to say “No.” The other day when I asked him to pick up his things, of course, he refused. This was one of my quick-thinking moments and I said, “But you’re Superman. I need you to help me pick up these ‘big rocks’.” His eyes sparkled and he started moving “rocks.” Superman saves the day again! Yes, having Superman around again is very comforting.

At this time of year I wish I could be super too. I am confronted with the desire to make all kinds of new resolutions. The only problem is that none of them are new. I look back through journals and notebooks and I find all the same “new” resolutions listed.

But this year will be different I am sure. This is the year I’m going to be more organized. This is the year I’m going to be a serious student of the scriptures. This is the year I will start going to bed earlier so I can get up earlier instead of rolling out just in time to get everyone off to school. This is the year I’ll stop yelling, start scrapbooking, stop judging, start really involving my kids in the housework, stop snacking at night and start running. Then I’ll just throw in keeping better track of my children’s goals in scouting and Faith in God and I’m done. Whew!

I need to be Supermom! Being faster than a speeding bullet and stronger than a locomotive would be extremely helpful. Just think how quickly I could put the house in order. I would love always being in the right place at the right time. And I would actually do and be all those things that would make me the mother I dream of being. Sometimes it seems so unfair to be constrained by time and my own human weakness. If only I could be super.

Yet, one of the problems with wanting to be this impossible person is that it causes me to forget my most important partner in parenting. I find myself thinking I can, with just a little more effort, do it all myself. The reality is I can’t do it alone and I must rely on the Lord.

When I want to do it all and painfully discover, once again, my deficiency, I am reminded that it is through His power, not my own, that I can do all things. "Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things (Alma 26:12."

Sometimes I have to remind myself that God gave me these children knowing full well that I could never give them everything they need. He knew I wouldn't be the perfect parent and that I would often fail. He knew there would be times I would hurt their feelings and break their hearts. Yet, I have to believe that is the way He planned it. If I was who I want to be, that super human being that can do it all herself, I would never need Him and neither would my children. I would never seek for the blessings of the atonement for my children and myself. And I would never come to know Him and the priceless gift He gave in His Son.

So maybe this year there is only one resolution to be made, to turn to Him more often. It’s really the only way. I will never be super, but with His grace I can more gracefully maneuver the pitfalls of temper, fatigue and frustration. Although I’m unable to do it all, with my eyes on Him I just might get better and better at choosing “the one needful thing... that good part, which shall not be taken away from (me) (Luke 10:42).”

So, even though I bid farewell to wishes for superhuman strength, unlimited energy and infinite amounts of patience I’ll always hold on to one small lesson about being super that I learned from my first young Superman several years ago.
I
t all began quite innocently. I was doing the laundry when Josh came in with his Barney blanket and announced that he needed to be Superman. I tied the blanket around his neck and off he flew to save the world. A few minutes later Sarah arrived with a blanket that I tied around her neck and away she went.

It wasn't long before Josh was at my side again. "Mom, do you want to be Supergirl?" he asked. "Oh, I think Sarah is Supergirl," I replied trying to evade this invitation to play. "I'm Superman!" he said proudly but, that wasn't the end of it, he pushed on. "Sarah is Supergirl and I'm Superman. Who can you be?" I continued folding laundry and said, "How about I'll be Supermom." "Oh yeah!" he said with excitement, as if he should have thought of that himself.

Sarah arrived just seconds later with two blankets for me to choose from. I tied the bigger one around my neck, shouted "Supermom!" and off I flew. Perhaps lumbered would be a more accurate description of the flight of a nearly nine months pregnant woman. Anyway, for my children and me it was flight. I flew around the house with two little super heroes holding tightly to my cape. We stopped here and there so they could show me how to fly off the furniture. I didn't try any of that however; Supermom does have her limits.

So who says you can't be Supermom? The secret is so simple it’s astonishing, just like Josh's "Oh yeah!" to my suggestion of it. We should have all figured this out long ago. It just took the insistence of my little Superman to help me see that all it takes to be Supermom is a blanket and a willingness to leave the laundry.