Please Don’t Call Me Supermom: It Will Go to My Head and Ruin Me

Supermom to the rescue!

It has such a great ring to it! Supermom! So daring and brave! But let me tell you a little secret. I have never been one to worry much about what other people think. That played more into life when I had my oldest daughter at age 19. It didn’t help that I looked 13.  I received many stares, snickers, and glares. I know what people thought. They thought I slept around or dropped my daughter off so I could party. None of which was true. I have always prided myself on being a good  mom–THAT is what mattered to me.

Life lessons that created the Supermom legend

Twelve years after my oldest daughter was born, I give birth to twins. GASP! My twin daughters were born on Christmas night. They ruined the tradition of Christmas cinnamon bun eating for my teenager.

(Let me back up just a tad. My husband and I had a hard time getting pregnant. We considered that we may end up with more than one. We were so excited when we found out it was twins, even though it would affect us financially.) 

I was already working two jobs. One was across state, but the hours increased until I couldn’t work anymore. I traveled a ton and averaged about 48 work hours a week. Yes, I was taking care of myself. I was eating (sometimes too much), sleeping well, and both of my jobs allowed me to sit down. The bigger I got, the more I heard this glorious phrase come out of people’s mouths…

“I don’t know how you do it! You must be Supermom!” 

Yes, the phrase that started it all. It sprouted the seed of feeling superhuman. My response was almost always, “I don’t know. I just do.” And I meant it. I was just doing what I thought women were supposed to do.

Now, back to when the twins were born. I took on almost everything. My husband had never had a baby and now he had two at once. I would get up through the night and take care of myself as much as I could. I also didn’t want to make my oldest pitch in too much, because she didn’t ask for sisters. And more importantly, she was super hormonal. 

Once all the chaos became organized chaos, I started to feel a bit better. Maybe I was a Supermom. I challenged that idea when the twins turned nine-months-old. I had worked in photography previously, but had stopped the year before. A friend of mine begged me to take pictures at her wedding. Of course I said yes. That is what Supermoms do, right?

I handled that event pretty well. My household seemed to survive without me. Other people got wind of my foray back into photography, and asked if I was willing to work with them. I said: “Yes, yes, of course I can!” And they said: “I don’t know how you do it, but I am glad you can!” My response: “Well that is what Supermoms do…everything!”

Learning to let go and say no

This horrid path of yes to everything took a toll on me. My guilt of being gone during the day nudged me to work on photography when the girls were asleep. That meant I slept less. My weekend overnight job meant less sleep. Less sleep led to bad eating habits. Sugar and caffeine became my friends. Well, at least that it seemed that way. These “friends” ruined the little sleep I got. Instead, I became restless and short-tempered. All of that led to a three-month medical leave from work.

My time at home was eye-opening. I realized how severely damaging my Supermom thinking was. It took me a long time to be okay with saying no. In fact, I am still practicing it. I have a hard time asking for help or being okay with “less than perfect.”

So next time you want to say to me: “I don’t know how you do it, you must be Supermom,” please don’t. Try saying, “You are doing a fabulous job.” It is still a great compliment.