Actually, I'm not a doctor either. I'm just a stay-at-home mom with questionable homemaker skills and a lot of self-doubt about my adequacy as a mother. But that's not the point. OK, well, it becomes the point eventually, but right now, the point is that Super Kindergartner has a new lovie.
OK, here's what happens: Super Kindergartner is very compassionate. It's one of his 5 main super powers. Therefore, it was no great shock that, while at the Reptile Zoo today, he fell in love with a gift-shop stuffed turtle with a tear in the leg. I normally say no to gift shop purchases, but because inconsistency is one of my 5 main super powers, I said yes to the lame turtle. I mean, are you gonna say no to the combination of "But Mom, he needs extra love; he has a broken leg." and this face?
No. No, you are not.
Super K. lovingly carries this turtle all the way home, tucking him under his shirt so he won't get wet in the freak rainstorm we encounter and gingerly placing him on a pillow upon arrival. He is sitting next to his new friend, explaining the plot of Rio 2 (rain calls for lazy movie days), when I causally mention that I might be able to sew up that tear.
Super K.'s eyes grow huge and solemn. He looks at me with new respect and whispers, "You can fix him?!"
"Ummmm...sure. Well, I can try."
And I try. And I do. And, well, I fix him.
Super K. is ecstatic. "Mom, you are amazing! Could you fix Chuck? He has a rip on his nose. I put a band aid on him, but you are much better than a band-aid!"
He rushes away while I ponder being "better than a band-aid." Could I actually be better than a band-aid? Do I actually have some worth and skill and ability to offer? Maybe I am halfway OK at this whole stay-at-home-mom thing. Maybe I am more than OK. Maybe being just a stay-a-home mom is something I could rock, rather than merely survive. And maybe there is no just in "just a stay-a-home mom" or, if there is, maybe it's more of the morally right kind and less of the only kind. Maybe I don't have to be a doctor or lawyer or even work out of the home at all for my children to respect me. Maybe what I do is just as good. Maybe I am good.
Holy cats, that's a lot to take in; I am gonna have to brew on this for awhile. But one thing is certain, Readers. I am currently floating on air because my son thinks I am better than a band-aid. Better than a band-aid!
No, I'm not a doctor.
I'm a god-damn miracle worker.