Super Hero? Super Mom

I am almost went insane last week. Some may say that is a very small step for me, but that is all a matter of perspective. One man’s crazy is another man’s sanity. Certainly one issue should not be enough to take me to the brink, but this one is kind of delicate. Like most people of my age group, we are all growing older and we are growing older a lot faster than we ever thought was possible. It seemed just a few years ago, I was skippin‘ down the cobbled stones, lookin’ for fun and feelin’ groovy. If I tried that now I would probably be feelin' woozy.

It is a matter of biology that we all grow older; you can’t avoid that fact given the alternative is to be dead. But it is whether or not you accept the fact that you are growing older or not. There are many ways to look at this situation, avoidance, denial, acceptance and an all out battle against nature using every tool that science can supply are some of the options. I have certainly at one point in my life avoided the aging issue altogether and definitely denied the process was going on at another point, and finally, yes I am slowly accepting the fact I am getting older. I still haven’t opted for the scientific approach yet, although there is still time for that option. Thankfully aging in itself doesn’t kill you, it is the total lack of bodily functions that finally does you in.

I did the denial thing a few summers ago when I still believed I could water ski like a teenager. Most family and friends were not aware of any thing wrong, as my body was in shock for most of the weekend. It was only until I was home alone with my family that my body seized up and only emerged from the pretzel-like shape I had twisted into after a few days of loud soul-wracking moans and pleadings with any natural or supernatural entity to stop the pain. To say it was a graceful segue to acceptance of aging is a little of a stretch, but here I am now happily ensconced in the fact that yes I am older and yes there have been changes, but that is OK. Again considering the alternative, this is not a bad position to be in.

My youngest daughter was feeling out of sorts one weekend. Nothing seemed to be right. Her Mom asked her what was wrong, she shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don’t know... I just wish I was older.” A very common and real statement that is made by young teens around the world. But deep in my psyche where a normally quiet bespectacled nerd resided, this statement rattled down through the dark corridors of my brain and caused this fellow to bolt upright in his comfy chair. He clucked a few times and then threw the Mike Meyers Fool Switch and took over my mind and body. Without a second for me to rationally react, I found myself standing on my ottoman, newspapers still fluttering through the air after I tossed them, screaming at the top of my lungs in some acquired and unknown Scottish accent, “Wha? Ya crazy lass? Ya canna wait until your life is over!! Ha’ your brain turned to porridge? Mind you what you be wishing for! Before ya know it the wicked hand of time will come down and smote you with grey hair and wrinkles like the old woman who is standing beside yo...” Fortunately, another bespectacled nerdy scientist deep within my brain threw an even more important switch and turned my mouth off before I went any further.

I sat back down sheepishly smiled, mumbled an apology and was happy to hear my regular voice instead of a thick Scottish brogue. Fortunately, this sort of thing happens a lot around our household so things got back to relative normalcy in short order.

I can understand why my daughter wanted to be older, it is kind of seductive. No more education system and having the freedom and time to spend lots and lots of money. But as all adults know, seduction is all it is. We tried to explain that with all of this comes a great amount of responsibility especially if you throw in the burden of being a parent in the mix as well. Getting older is not one big party (well, maybe it was for a few years) and as you get older instead of getting easier, life tends to become even more difficult, more complicated. The kids sat at the dinner table and stared at us with truly unbelieving and unconvinced eyes. I finally told them of an old philosopher or was it an ancient Chinese saying that put forth something like, “With great power comes great responsibilities.” They exchanged glances and one of them said to me, “Dad. Peter Parker's uncle said that”. Damned spider.

“So,” they continued, as they warmed to the thought. “You really think getting older and being a parent is the same as being a super hero?” Without hesitation, my wife and I both agreed. I mean, what is it that a super hero actually does? They save the world from mass destruction, ya da, ya da, ya da. That is a mere pittance to aging and parenting. We strive for Truth, Justice and the American way (or at least a variance of that), we try to right the wrong, punish the evil doers and make every thing in the world right again. The only thing missing is the secret identity and jazzy costume. I looked at my wife said as she stood proudly over the dinner table, her hands firmly resting on her hips with wind blowing her hair back heroically. She smiled at the kids and said, “Give me a cape, slap an M on my chest and call me Mom. Does anyone have a problem with that?”