Super Wonder Mom

I have two superhero t-shirts that I like to wear on days I know I'll be facing overwhelming odds.

Putting on that Wonder Woman t-shirt or the Superman t-shirt helps me gird my loins on those days I'm heading into battle with rampaging mutant laundry monsters, or thwarting an evil genius bent on burying the world in meaningless paperwork, or attending meetings that bend the time-space continuum all out of shape, or just shrugging off the lingering after-effects of soul-sucking Blue Meanies. Pretty much any day I'm just not sure how I'm ever going to get it all done.

I know those t-shirts don't give me any real superpowers, except maybe added self-confidence. Wearing them is more like a little joke to myself. I imagine striking the superhero pose – feet shoulder-width apart, fists on my hips, chest up and out, head tilted to the side – and announcing “Stand aside citizens, I'll finish that report, whip up some soup and deliver it to the school, attend the birthday party at the nursing home, and still be back in time to take the Princess to the gym. I'm (dramatic pause) Wonder Mom.”

But lately I've started to think maybe I have developed some... unique superpowers of my own.

It all started when I was grousing to myself about the four baskets of clean laundry sitting in the living room just waiting for someone – anyone – to fold and/or put them away. “It's like no one else in this family can even see them,” I thought to myself. Then it occurred to me, “maybe no one else in this family really CAN see them!”

Crazy? Maybe, but how else can you explain why the rest of the family had been walking around these baskets for days without even touching them?

Then there were other incidents: dirty dishes left downstairs or next to – but not in – the dishwasher, popcorn bags on the Princess' bedroom floor, pop cans on the Prince's desk, piles of shoes, backpacks, books and papers everywhere. I was the only one bothered by these things... because I was the only one who could see them!

I have developed... Super Clutter Vision!

Sure, it's not quite as exciting as X-Ray Vision, or even night vision, but still... it's something.

To test my theory I gathered the children for a little fun family bonding over laundry folding. “Where? Why?” they asked. Mmmm hmmm, I suspected as much. After I led them to the baskets and guided their little hands to the handles, it was like a fog had lifted.

But another surprise awaited!

After explaining the basics of folding (don't wad, roll or crumple), I discovered that I could easily fold three baskets-full of clothes in the same amount of time it took the two of them to fold one basket-full... together!

I have developed... Super Folding Powers!

This led to the discovery that I am the only one who can put folded clothes away so that they stay folded! Apparently there is some sort of gravitational force around the children's dressers that disrupts the orderliness of folded laundry, so that what starts out as folded in the basket ends up as a blob when placed in the drawers. It is I, and I alone, who have the power to overcome this trans-dimensional distortion.

Super Laundry Putting-Away Power!

OK, that one might be stretching it a bit, but what about these super powers:

Cat Telepathy – I'm the only one who can tell when it's time to clean the cat's litter box (well, at least the only one who ever does anything about it), and usually the only one who knows it's time to feed him (Max's powers are getting stronger here).

Enhanced Hearing – I can actually hear the Princess rolling her eyes at me... from the other room. When atmospheric pressure is just right I can hear that rattle from down the hall, in the basement, even over the phone, or via text message!

ESTPP – Extrasensory Toilet Paper Perception. Not only am I usually the only person to know when the bathroom is out of toilet paper, I'm the only one with the ability to load it correctly!

So, in light of all the speculation that I was involved in the cleaning events that occurred in the living room, the kitchen and the bathroom... the wild accusations that I'm a superhero... the truth is...

I am Iron Mom.