What Defines a Super Mom?

I am a stay-at-home, pregnant mother of four of the most beautiful, intelligent, well-behaved children in the world. (I may or may-not be biased.) Even biased, I had to cross well-behaved off the list. I adore them and they are my universe, but I am not foolish enough to believe these little munchkins have halos following them around.

Kind of like baseline testing for concussions, I think baseline stress level testing would be interesting. If such a thing existed, my stress level right now would measure off the charts. Way off. My hubby and I are fortunate enough that we were able to take my mother-in-law in during a transition period in her life. It makes me feel good that we have been able to provide this for her, but it is never easy adding another adult to a full household.

As I already said, we have four children, plus there is my husband and I, our two large dogs, our cat and the three guinea pigs. We live in a small, split entry house with three bedrooms and a game room converted into bedroom number four. Needless to say, it is close quarters.

Combine the stress of adding another person to the mix, a high risk pregnancy and a summer of four very busy children, and I don't know many people who wouldn't be stressed. Two of my favorite stress relievers are wine (which clearly is not an option) and running (which is a lot harder than it was pre-baby bump). Basically I've taken three paragraphs to tell you I'm stressed. Very, very stressed.

Yesterday I had to run errands with all four kiddos. My husband was out of town helping his mother move some items and so me and the gang were crammed into his small, 2-door Kia Forte Coupe. The 8-year-old and the two 5-year-olds (Irish twins, not actual twins) were in the back seat and just.would.not.stop.

He touched her. She looked at him. He breathed in my direction. For the love of Pete it was nonstop bickering.

I started by asking them nicely to stop. I asked again. I reminded them of the fun evening I had planned. I asked again, a little bit louder. I stopped asking and told them they needed to quit. I begged. I cried. And then, after 20 minutes of non-stop misbehaving, I flipped out. I grew horns and started spitting fire and morphed from loving mommy to the big, bad mommy-monster.

They shut up fast.

The rest of the errands were normal stressful without any more major flip outs by them or by me.

When we got home I made them the special "shark dinner" I had planned for a fun-filled night of cheesy Syfy movies and family time. We enjoyed our fish fillets, lifeguard guts (cheesy hash browns) and surfer eyeballs (grapes). We drank our "blood in the water" beverages (cherry pop) and finished the evening with blood and gut sundaes (ice cream with whipped cream and strawberry sauce).

I shared the plan on Facebook and a few people commented on what a good mom I am. Somebody even called me "super mom". Super mom? I went psycho on my kids just hours earlier. I didn't raise my voice. I full on YELLED. I yelled so much my youngest told me he doesn't love me when I get mad.

So I wonder, what makes somebody a super mom or a super dad? Is it doing fun things? Is it never losing your cool? Is it giving your kids their own way?

I think super mom is really just doing the best you know how and continually learning to do better. I think being a super mom is loving your kids unconditionally. And, when I start feeling bad about my "less than super mom" moments, I try to think back to my book, The World According to Mister Rogers. In it, he says that parents teach their kids an important lesson when we let them see us as parents have a whole range of emotions - anger, joy, sadness - and still love our children through all of those other emotions.

I don't know if I am a super mom or just a mom doing the best I know how...but I do know I love my children with all my heart and soul. Whatever that makes me, I will take!