I am not a SISSY-WUSSY-GIRL!!! Grr!

It's true. I am not... a wuss.

wuss - definition of wuss by the Free Online Dictionary, Thesaurus ...www.thefreedictionary.com/wussCached - wuss (w s). n. Slang. A person regarded as weak or timid and especially as unmanly: "Cats are for wusses, dog men say" (Laura Blumenfeld).

 

Although I am not saying I am manly by any means....I like to think of myself as strong and independent. To a fault at times. Back in my 'single days' I would pride myself on my success at my job. I would carry myself with my shoulders back and my head held high. I would pick up a 70 lb. box of books and load it in my trunk without looking for assistance (seriously- this is heavy for me). I would pump gas in the darkest of night, in a scary part of town with no fear! (Stockton, CA...people!)  I would get out of bed and get myself a late night snack or grab a foot stool to reach something that was too out of reach. Or open a jar of pickles like it was an Olympic Sport! I would climb to the top of the waterfalls at Yosemite and NOT complain- passing the girls (some of which were guys) to prove I COULD DO THIS! I remember a friend of mine that constantly needed her boyfirend's hand to step over a branch....NOT ME! I was independent. Strong. Secure. I didn't need anyone's assistance. I was on a mission to prove that I was capable.

ALL. BY. MYSELF.

Then- I got married.

And I married the Jolly Green Giant none the less! He is like 8 feet tall!!!  (Ok. 6'6- but still!) He is truly freakishly strong. And there is one thing in all my Miss-Independent-I-Am-Taking-Over-The-World days that I never claimed to know ANYTHING about....and that was cars. That was what my dad was for. Seriously. He would make sure my oil was changed. My breaks were good. My engine was fine. Ect. But, then I moved away. 

My Kryptonite- Cars.

 One day while away at Bible College ....in another state.... my car broke down in the middle of the intersection. So I did what every early 20 something girl would do....I called my dad...who was a whole state away. I calmly sat in the middle of the intersection and picked up my cell phone to call my Dad who I knew would fly in with his cape blowing in the wind to push me out of the way. With horns honking...in every direction...I dialed his number. I explained to him what happened and where I was. He proceeded to tell me (or yell at me) to call one of the guys I knew at school because...APPARENTLY my dad couldn't come bail me out of this one. Whatever! Well...Jolly Green Giant just happened to also be a Jolly Green Mechanic.  So- he found his in with me. My kryptonite. I didn't know changing oil from pumping gas. (Well, not quite that bad- but you get my drift.) He seemed to love to dote on me. It started with working on my car...to leaving roses on my driver seat...(more about that later). But I wasn't dumb. I married the guy. :o)..and the WEIRDEST thing happened after we got married....

A total hunk! I know! 

And..I LOST ALL MY SUPER POWERS!

 My legs seemed to turn off after 8p.m. I forgot how to open a jar of pickles. EVERYTHING was out of reach- even if it was within arm’s length! I couldn't lift anything over 5lbs and FORGET about carrying the laundry upstairs. Going on a casual hike seemed like we were going to attempt Mt. Everest!............unless he wasn't around. Then MY super powers came back on and I could do all the above without a care in the world! Was Jolly Green Giant/Superman really my new source of kryptonite?!?!

What HAPPENED!!!

 

 For the longest time I couldn't figure it out. But, then....I got pregnant and it all started to make sense. Have you ever been around a toddler that falls down-hard? If no one is looking he gets right back up as if nothing happened. BUT if he KNOWS you saw him...forget about it! The water works start. I think that is what happened to me. My brave-strong-all-knowing(so he thinks)-Superman can do this all for me. He is my Knight in Shining Armor! Come to save me from my independent ways!

But after the 'Innocent-General-Information' class at the hospital my husband and I attended (THAT TOTALLY FREAKED ME OUT!!!)- you can read about that here: http://theloringfamily.blogspot.com/2012/06/what-do-you-mean-stork-isnt-real.html?spref=fb

Something else happened. I started feeling like I had to get going again! I am going to be a MOTHER! One of the most powerful (if not THE MOST powerful) human being on the planet! I am going to be making dinner with a child on my hip and a dog between my feet. I am going to have to get up at all hours of the night to take care of our little critter! He will need me to be invincible. All knowing. Capable. She-Woman AND SUPERMAN! He needs me to beat down the bullies and wipe away the boogers. I will have to chase him up the hills at the park and be able to keep up with him in the pool. Change a poopie diaper in heels (I will get my high heels to fit again!) and toss it in the trash. He needs me to be like every other Mom out there. And I am convinced now more than ever that every Mother has Superpowers.

 

So I have to buck up!

Call it 3rd trimester hormones. Or the nesting thing or whatever! But all of a sudden with or without Mr. Jolly Green Giant around I have been able to open my own jar of pickles again! I can stand on a step stool (very carefully) to get things out of reach! I can pump gas all by myself! I even diagnosed a scratching sound in my car! (We need new break-pads. But- Dave had me budget for such an occasion! Go Dave Ramsey followers!) I can carry up the laundry and make dinner after working a 10 hour work day. Go to the gym and swim a few laps. I am coming back...and perhaps stronger cause I am doing it all with carrying around a basketball strapped to my stomach!

So slowly but surely my super powers are coming back. I am not a wuss. I can join the elite club of moms who appear to do it all...mostly cause they don't have no other choice. Apparently babies can't change themselves.... (although I here's to hoping there is a 1st for everything!) I may be in labor pushing out this barrel of energy (who apparently is going to be a pro-soccer player activity going on in here) and I am may be saying over and over: I am not a wuss! I am not a wuss! I am not a wuss!

But I will do whatever it takes to join the elite crew of moms everywhere that have magical superpowers!

***This blog is dedicated to my husband who has continuously gotten out of bed to get me a drink, carried up the laundry, opened 1,000's of jars, and helped me make dinner. You are my Superman still and forever! Love you babe! ***