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Being a supermom is not everyone's cup of tea! As this mom says, I am a supermom—oh yeah, and I just saw pigs flying!
Being a supermom is not everyone’s cup of tea! As this mom says, I am a supermom—oh yeah, and I just saw pigs flying!
I had a dream last night that I was on an imaginary mommy track field. All the moms had taken a position at the starting line and were poised to leap forward once the bell rang (only here it was not an actual bell but the crying sound of their babies). 3, 2, 1… WAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!…GO!
They all started racing along, panting and breathless, to reach the finish line where the winner was to be awarded the ‘Being a Supermom’ prize.
However, while running they started pushing, shoving and wandering into each other’s tracks and tumbled and toppled over one another. A few got exhausted and slumped down in the middle of the tracks. The distant finish line remained distant and out of reach for all.
My dream made me wonder about this much-coveted supermom prize. Who is a supermom and what do you have to do to be a part of this supermom club?
Is it some kind of secret club? Do they have any secret code messages they use to communicate? Like, do they have a secret mission or some kind of a dress code? I absolutely wanted to be a part of this group and so I just said out loud for anyone to hear, ‘I want to be a supermom.’
And you won’t believe it, there was a flash of lightning and a supermom cape fell right to my feet. Only it was not a cape like superheroes wear. It was more like a giant bib with something like a breast pump attached to it and tentacles like that of an octopus coming out of it. Oh sweet lord, what had I gotten myself into!
The first thing I found out about this elusive breed is that they are extremely well organized. Yes, I sneaked up from behind to take a look at one of the mom’s monthly planners that she was writing furiously in.
She had written ‘March 29, five-year anniversary, time to stay out of my personal hell—7 p.m. to 9 p.m.’ Can you imagine anyone being more meticulous than this? She even had a personal hell free time slot, wow!
I immediately entered the same in my planner. Though when my time came to be hell free I just couldn’t complete the mission as my dog decided to go at that particular time and then my kid just refused to sleep that night and a report that I had sent to my boss earlier came back to me labeled ‘just write the bloody thing again.’ I got busy firefighting and personal hell free time just passed!
During my induction into the ‘Being a Supermom’ club, I was told I will would to work all the time which meant very little sleeping time. ‘So basically, I have to be like a zombie, right?’ I asked innocently. I got instant stares from several bloodshot eyes and was asked to shush.
‘It’s a simple formula,’ explained one of the supermoms. ‘Less sleep means more wakey time, more wakey time means more to do’s you can complete which means greater achievement. More achievement means more success. Now memorise it by heart and repeat.’ They even gave me a wristband with this message written on it so that I could remember it always. I was so impressed.
Supermoms had logically proved that sleeping less can lead to more success. One thing did bother me. I love to sleep, and it really recharges my batteries. I once tried keeping awake at night with all my bills and receipts to balance my cheque book, but I guess I must have dozed off. I got up in the morning to find the dog chewing on my light bill!
Like superheroes to the rescue, supermoms are constantly trying to fulfill everybody’s expectations to the fullest. Why not, after all, we are clones of I-Robots, always at your service. And, like robots, there are three fundamental laws that govern supermom behavior too.
One, thou shalt buy whatever art supplies your kids need in whatever quantity they say, no matter even if you feel like you just bought those things last month. Two, thou shalt, upon entering a clothing store, go straight to the kids’ section followed by the men’s section and just drag a T-shirt for yourself from nowhere in particular, on your way to the billing counter. Three, thou shalt cook or buy samosas and dosas for your husband, kids and your whole army of in-laws your entire life, irrespective of whether you like samosas and dosas or not.
Supermoms bustle around sprinkling magical pixie dust everywhere to accomplish all their tasks for everyone.
The supermom role is essentially superhuman in nature. So, to achieve all her goals, every mom has to multitask like there is no tomorrow. ‘Oh yeah, I do multi-tasking,’ I said proudly at the fourth annual supermom multitasker achievement awards. ‘Like, when I am cooking, I also help my kids finish their homework.’
I got so many pitying looks from the supermoms when I said it, my heart sank. ‘You really need to get your certification in the art of multitasking,’ I was told gently. They were talking about brushing your teeth while cleaning the sink type of multitasking. You know, dress up your kids while feeding them breakfast, or use breast pumps while clicking away furiously on the computer. With one hand stir the cooking pot, with the other use the vacuum, and with one leg rock the baby’s cradle. ‘Why don’t we use the other free leg as well?’ I asked genuinely. ‘We may fall down, you silly!’ they laughed. ‘Ha ha ha! the laugh is on them!’ I thought.
What is it about being a mom that converts us from simple, nurturing, friendly people into a highly competitive, all-knowing, superhuman version of a woman? Is it because we want to be role models for our kids and do what is best for them? Or, is it because we feel the entire onus of responsibility for our families lies upon our shoulders so we must always do everything for them? Or is it because we just want to do it that way?
To all the mommies of the world, I say, every mom is unique and a treasure trove of love in her own way. The multiple roles we play during our lifetime are nothing short of a miracle and proof of God’s unwavering faith in humanity. We make milk and produce babies. So, supermom or not, our strength and resilience is superhuman!
Image via Pixabay
I have worked in the financial sector as a banking executive and in the field of primary education of children. I love reading, writing, making friends, and playing with my kids. I am super interested read more...
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UP Boards Topper Prachi Nigam was trolled on social media for her facial hair; our obsession with appearance is harsh on young minds.
Prachi Nigam’s photo has been doing the rounds on social media for the right reasons. Well, scratch that- I wish the above statement were true. This 15-year-old girl should ideally be revelling in her spectacular achievement of scoring a whopping 98.05% and topping her tenth-grade boards. But oddly enough, along with her marks, it’s something else that garners more attention – her facial hair.
While the trolls are driving themselves giddy by mocking this girl who hasn’t even completed her school yet, the ones who are taking her side are going one step ahead – they are sharing her photoshopped pictures, sans the facial hair, looking nothing less than a celebrity with captions saying – “Prachi Nigam, ten years later”.
Doctors have already diagnosed her with PCOD in their comments, based on photographic evidence. While we have names for people shamed for their weight – body shaming, for their skin colour- racism, for their age- age shaming, for being a female- sexism, this category of shaming where one faces criticism for their appearance has no name. With that, it also has zero shame attached to it.
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