Wednesday, October 9, 2013: We Can Be Heroes.

Dear Babies,

Do you think Superman would cry because his muffin has mold on it?

To which you, Baby Boy, easily could’ve countered at breakfast, do you think Superman’s mom lets muffins sit around for so long that they grow mold? But luckily, we’re not there yet.

Be brave, I coached yesterday in preparation for your flu shots, squatting down to look into your eyes with laser-like focus. I laid it all out (You: You’re so warm and fuzzy, Mom!): “We’re going to the doctor and you’re going to get shots. We need these shots so we don’t get the flu. We don’t want the flu. You hold your arms out. You say, doctor, I’m ready for my shot, please! You be tough. You be brave.” I flexed my muscles for emphasis, not mentioning plan B in my pocket: Lollipops.

Tough guy! you growled, Baby Boy, mimicking my flexing.

Tough lady! you sang, Baby Girl, spinning around and around.

Later, did you cry?, your dad asked when he got home. “No!” You both cheered. “I is tough! I is brave!” You guys and Aibileen from “The Help.” You is kind. You is smart. You is important. 

That’s great! your dad said. We Denby’s fight!

“We fight!” you echoed, causing him to back pedal.

We…! Oh, wait, we don’t fight. No, fighting is wrong. We fight inside. 

“We fight inside?”

We’re strong. I mean, we’re strong in here, tapping his chest.

“We’re strong in here?”

Yes.

“Oh.”

Because that makes sense to a three year old.

…So teaching my kids to not cry and be tough and strong so they can make it in this harsh world, that’s what I’m supposed to be doing, right?

But then fighting, nooo, we want peace! Today would’ve been John Lennon’s 73rd birthday. One day you’ll get the weight this carries. Hopefully, and not just choke it up to some singer who died. (Please, please, don’t become a generation that does that.)

I watch the Justice League cartoons with you guys with an entirely dropped jaw. I haven’t seen such gym-body juiceheads since my days at the Jersey Shore. Cheekbones for days. You mean to tell me you’re not picking up on the homoeroticism here? In a scene with Superman carrying an injured Batman, I blushed.

Super Duper Man.

It’s birthday time, as you remind me everyday. I scroll the Toys R Us web site and see the car that shoots things to get bad guys. That this thing opens and out comes a weapon. The Ninja Turtles can shoot pellets from their stomachs. What?! That doesn’t even make sense? 

…I had my weekly therapy season today, aka, yoga. Aren’t you glad I’ve starting practicing again and come home reeking of enlightenment and lavender oil? Ommm.

Beginner’s mind, apparently Buddha said. It’s the ability to treat everyday as if it’s the first time, no matter how much experience you think you have, no matter what you think you know.

Thanks to parenthood, I got his covered. Each and everyday, I don’t know damn what to do.

Love,

Mom

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