Mama by Day, Superhero by Night

As I was lying in the darkness last night nursing Edwin to sleep, he startled; his razor-thin fingernail slashed across my face. It smarted and I knew it wasn't your everyday baby scratch. So I lay there, trying to ignore the pulsing pain until Edwin finally fell asleep and I could sooth it with coconut and essential oils.

I have plenty of scars. I'm a clumsy cook, and I have marks from reaching into the oven to hastily again and again.  My wedding cake, and Edwin's birthday dinner both left token burns on my arm which I will always cherish as reminders of those moments.

But this cut is a little more obvious than a burn on my arm, and it may well leave a scar. I'm ok with this, it actually is pretty epic-looking. A bit like I was re-enacting Arwen's flight from the nazgul in the Fellowship movie.  Or attacked by sharp airborne weapons, spider-man style. Anyway, I think when people ask what happened I'm just going to say,

"I'm a mama by day, and a superhero by night."

Isn't that the truth, really? We mamas, we save lives every single day. Brave the darkness of midnight, 1 a.m., 2 a.m, and onwards into the night to feed the helpless and the hungry. Rocking through hours of sickness. Tears of teething.  Warding off nightmares. Pains of labour, birth.  We pour out our very life-blood into our children. And then there are the baby fingernails. Mamas, Superheroes, all.

And we are scarred. Birthday-cake burns, bizarre stretch marks, abs that have taken a beating from the inside out.

And so strong. In a great many ways. Including the most literal: after hours of errands when you've forgotten your carrier, that toddler is hella heavy.
 Just don't arm-wrestle a mom. You're welcome.

Motherhood is on-the-job superhero training. There is no school for this stuff. And if there were, we'd wonder how we'd ever pass the exam. But when you love hard enough, you can survive some pretty epic missions. And many small wounds along the way. And baby fingernails. All that superhero stuff.