Cape Super




	------------------------------------------------------------ WRITE 2 THE HEART Stories that are aimed Write 2 The Heart February 7, 2001 volume 1 Issue #4 Cheryl Speir, Editor, moderator@write2theheart.com ------------------------------------------------------------- By subscription only! Welcome to your next issue of "WRITE 2 THE HEART". You are receiving this newsletter because you requested a subscription. Unsubscribe instructions are at the end of this newsletter. ------------------------------------------------------------ SPONSORSHIP NOTICE ------------------------------------------------------------ For a FREE personalized health analysis profile, visit Teraforma Health, Inc. http://teraformahealth.com/tfh/56094.html Your personal profile results will be shown immediately along with appropriate nutritional recommendations. While there, check out our line of supplements. --------------------------------------------------------------- This ezine may be freely forwarded to as many people as you wish, please send the whole issue. --------------------------------------------------------------- Hanging Up My Cape By: Rose Wade-Schambach --------------------------------------------------------------- Call me crazy. (Go ahead, it wouldn't be the first time!) But I have the distinct feeling that I am on a treadmill that I can't get off. I am getting to where I am beginning to envy that little woman who fell down in that commercial a few years back and couldn't get up. At least if that were to happen to me, I could get some rest! I'll admit it. I probably brought it on myself. (Forget for a moment that I have twelve kids). What I am referring to is the super-mom syndrome that I would feel compelled to be a card-carrying member of even if I only had two kids. Maybe it's the company I am keeping or the places I go. Every time I attend a PTA meeting, I meet a mom with long perfectly polished fingernails who exclaims, "Oh, my, with all those children you must be terribly organized!" "Oh sure", I mutter as I struggle to locate an ink pen in my cluttered purse, only to discover an unpaid bill that has been stashed in there since the Clinton administration. Who am I to burst her bubble? Take this morning. (I wish someone could take away the memory!) In spite of the fact that I spend what feels like hours every night making sure that lunches are packed and backpacks ready, homework done and clothes for the next day decided upon, there will still be that child whose amnesia has just lifted enough to remember that he/she needed something important signed, a major project was due or my personal favorite. It goes like this: "I volunteered you to bake cup-cakes for the class in celebration of the seventy-fourth day of school without the teacher having a nervous break-down." (Although I will have to admit that with this particular child in her class, that is a feat worth recognizing.) This morning, I signed something, but I don't have a clue what that something was. There is something about the pressure of having the bus driver sitting on the horn that makes me incapable of focusing on the written word. After I managed to get the elementary school gang actually on their way to school my four year old has a meltdown because we were out of his favorite cereal. (I was excited just to have a clean bowl and spoon left!) As I am simultaneously calming the child and recovering from the aftermath of the previous tornadoes, my high-schooler actually has the audacity to announce that he is pretty sure that he has just missed his bus AND he needs money for a new English book since he hasn't seen the old one since the second week of school. (Now the mystery of the grade he made in English this last grading period is finally solved! He doesn't have a serious learning disability after all!) I press on. (Super-Mom to the rescue!) I write the check for the textbook, load up the four year old and begin the routine of getting him there before the tardy bell rings for the thirtieth time this year before I realized that the four-year old is still in his sleeping clothes, and I am still in my robe and slippers. As I pulled in the driveway the preschool bus is waiting. I panicked. And I did what any other mother would do who has been in the trenches too long. I put him on the bus and felt rather proud of myself as I waved at his little smiling face. Then my heart sank as I realized that I had sent the child to school in the clothes he had slept in! (Of course it could have been worse. Thankfully he had slept in sweats the night before and not the hideous Power Ranger jammies that he prefers!) It is about this time that my life flashes before my eyes. Not my real life, but the life I was supposed to have! The one where I live in a house straight out of Better Homes and Gardens and I eat in a restaurant with real cloth napkins and do not cut up anyone's meat for them. The one where I learn a second language or take a gourmet cooking class just because I want to. The one where I visit exotic lands on exciting vacations. And I begin to feel sorry for myself. And then it happens for the five hundredth time this week. The Lord assures me that I am exactly where he wants me to be. He holds me close and whispers in my ear. "This is what you were made for." And I feel myself calming down. And I face reality. Being Super-Mom was all my idea. It was never God's expectation. And then I know that one day things will be much different. One day the dust will settle. One day the fingerprints on the walls will get repainted. One day I may actually own a sofa without stains. One day this house will be quiet and I may even take that cooking course, or learn that second language. For now, however my life will remain busy. I take a deep breath, pour myself that second cup of coffee and get ready for the next challenge. It will come soon enough. I just passed the door to the laundry room. Rose Wade-Schambach schwadeton @ yahoo.com --------------------------------------------------------------- Rose lives in Georgia with her new husband, John, and their combined family of twelve children. She loves to write and has written for "Heartwarmers 4U" and "2The Heart". --------------------------------------------------------------- Super Mom by: Gale Stevens --------------------------------------------------------------- Make the beds Wash the dishes Brush the heads Give this one a hug Give that one a kiss Beat out the rug How to juggle All of these chores Is a struggle One that can be won By the one and only Super Mom Most would run Some would shake But there isn't one That can do all This one has done Most would shrink From the task at hand She didn't even blink Just made the beds Washed the dishes Brushed the heads Gale Stevens Galetexasbelle @ cs.com --------------------------------------------------------------- Gale is a single mother of two girls. Together they reside in Texas. While keeping a journal during a difficult time in life, she discovered what was in her head sounded like poetry. She has the ability to write a poem on nearly any subject given to her. --------------------------------------------------------------- CLASSIFIED ADS ------------------------------------------------------------ Visit TeraForma Health, Inc. http://teraformahealth.com/tfh/56094.html for a FREE personalized body typing. Discover which foods and exercise programs are right for your body type. ------------------------------------------------------------ Copyright 2001 Write 2 The Heart