Although I do love a dress.

Hello friends,

A campaign by author Tania Katan called “It was never a dress”, that aimed to “shift perceptions and assumptions about women and the audacious, sensitive and powerful gestures they make every single day”.

She revamped the conventional dress-wearing figure into a caped superhero!

She wrote, “In science, technology, arts, mathematics, politics, houses of worship, on the streets, and in our homes, insightful women are often uninvited, overlooked, or just plain dismissed.  Through storytelling, community-building, innovation and creative disruptions, ‘It Was Never a Dress’ will foster necessary conversations, vital voices, and images from around the world that will honour all women.  When we see women differently, we see the world differently!”

For more info about the campaign, please visit https://itwasneveradress.org/about/

 

At the time, I thought it was a great concept.  It’s only now, as a 24/7/365 days a year mother, wife, chief cook, bum-wiper, and business-owner, that I really understand the general lack of appreciation that motivated Ms Katan to launch the campaign.  A few years late, but now with first-hand experience to jump on the bandwagon with candour, and support the shift in convention that Ms Katan started, I’m going to add my creative disruption, part storytelling and part encouragement for all the superheroes I know.

My Superpowers

I have varying degrees of superpowers.  For example, small superpowers, independent of one another, like:

• the ability to create a warm (not the temperature), safe, and comfortable home;
• baking delicious treats and cooking tasty, healthy meals;
• keeping the house clean and tidy… well, presentable (let’s go with presentable…); 
• planning fun activities for my children;
• remembering I also have a husband (he is very good at reminding me);  
• maintaining friendships and social circles; and,
• running ROHO with Lindi.

The execution of these abilities, simultaneously, 24/7/365 days a year, however, requires medium-sized superpowers, like:

• continuous activity, the kind that doesn’t allow breaks for coffee, reading a few pages of good book, or spending time on yourself;
• project-planning and management skills that are world-class and agile, (because, as you all know, with a toddler in the home and Eskom’s loadshedding schedule, nothing ever goes to plan);
• patience and a sense-of-humour, in equally large doses;  and,
• resilience… adapting to difficult situations and challenging life experiences.

The big and powerful superpowers are often hard to exert and, while I’m not sure I possessed them until I became a Mother, they have developed quickly and they are what makes me a Superhero (with a capital ‘S’!):

• Courage – waking up the next day and trying again, even though I’m always tired, sometimes afraid that I’m not a good mother, and sometimes just not that into adulting;
• Selflessness – always putting everyone else first because sometimes I feel it’s all I have to offer;  and, 
• Smiling when my heart is breaking.

Captain America may have healing ability, but I bet you he can’t kiss a scraped knee better.  And, Wolverine’s enhanced reflexes would never be able to catch a falling glass with one hand, while using the other hand to stop his toddler from falling off the counter as he balances on one foot because the other one is all that’s stopping the cat from escaping out the door.

David Copperfield, not quite a superhero, but definitely a hero, made the Statue of Liberty disappear, but I have to wonder if he’s ever made a magical world for kids to grow up in - full of joy, fun, playtime, and love – before adulthood arrives.  I know I have. 

Thank you, Arielle – before you arrived, I lived life in a way that I thought (and society alluded to) was successful and important.  Becoming a Mother may have cracked me open and taken me to the darkness of postnatal depression, but you have taught me more than I had previously learned about myself in my 37 years, and helped me on my quest to re-find my true self, and become who I truly am, and who I was meant to be.  I am your mother, and I am a true, ( I would like to add in an expletive), Superhero!

Superheroes are not created in a vacuum.

Now that I know I’m truly a Superhero, I’ve realised I descended from a remarkable tribe of superheroes. Obviously, until I honed the powers described above, I couldn’t begin to identify with them, or recognise their individual superpowers.

My Mum, a natural crunchy mummy, (long before the term even existed), was a natural born nurturer, and everything she fed or put on us was natural, home-made and healthy.  She was a stay-at-home mum – the hardest job in the world.  I can say that now, having experienced all three options:  full-time childless professional, stay-at-home-mum, and more recently, work-from-home-full-time-stay-at-home-mum.  It is so much easier to get up, get dressed, go to an office without lego on the floor and a child attached to your leg… and leave the domestic responsibilities to someone else.  I am sure though, that it's wishful thinking about leaving the kids at home when you step out the door and it wouldn't be as easy in the execution. Working Mommies also have their challenges.  

My maternal grandmother was from the Scottish highlands – a Celtic goddess, so of course she had superpowers!  She and my grandfather were immigrants to Australia, and parents to five children… give me strength…. I can barely cope with two.  In the 50s, modern conveniences like washing machines and dishwashers weren’t in every home – can you imagine how physically demanding her life must have been?  FIVE?! I honestly cannot cope most days with one and a half (one biological, full-time and one step-son, part time).

 

My paternal grandmother was a German immigrant and basically a single parent of twins boys. I’m not sure how I would cope without the support of my husband. I too am in a foreign country with my child, (I maybe the only Australian who moved to South Africa for love, rather than the other way around), but I can get away with speaking only English and our circumstances are much more privileged . I know I’d need a great deal more than the superpowers I have if I moved to foreign country and had to learn a foreign language in order to do daily tasks like buy groceries or buy a bus ticket.  

Clearly, they both possessed superpowers that were common to the superheroes of their era.  While I see similarities between those of my Mum and my own, I wonder if my Grandmothers would be impressed by the superheroes of this era, or simply tut and tell me that until I’ve lived in a time where women’s magazines were edited by men and that I'd best work on my superpowers.  (Yep, in Australia, women’s magazines were edited by men until 1975!)

In closing

International Women’s Day was celebrated a week ago, and I can honestly say that I think it should be celebrated daily.  As that’s highly unlikely:

“Here’s to all the Superheroes: may we know them, may we be them, may we raise them, and may your capes (and dresses) be a reminder of your powers, even if you find them difficult to wear sometimes.” 

Lindi and I would love to hear about your superpowers, or the superheroes that have mentored and/or inspired you – please write your comments and stories in the space below.

Until next time!

Holly

 

 

 

P.S.

To all the mums out there who don’t feel like Superheroes, here’s an excerpt from Erma Bombeck’s book called When God Created Mothers.  I hope you realie how spsecial you are.

“When the good Lord was creating mothers, He was into His sixth day of overtime, when an angel appeared and said, ‘You’re doing a lot of fiddling around on this one.’

And the Lord said, ‘Have you read the spec on this one? She has to be completely washable, but not plastic; have 180 moveable parts, all replaceable; run on black coffee and leftovers; have a lap that disappears when she stands up; a kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair; and six pairs of hands.’

The angel shook her head slowly and said, ‘Six pairs of hands…no way.’

‘It’s not the hands that are causing me problems,’ said the Lord. ‘It’s the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have.’

‘That’s on the standard model?’ asked the angel. 

The Lord nodded.  ‘One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, ‘What are you kids doing in there?’ when she already knows. Another here, in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn’t, but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say, ‘I understand and I love you,’ without so much as uttering a word.’

‘Lord,’ said the angel, touching his sleeve gently, ‘Rest for now. Tomorrow…’

‘I can’t,’ said the Lord. ‘I’m so close to creating something close to myself. Already, I have one who heals herself when she is sick, can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower.’

The angel circled the model of the mother very slowly. ‘She’s too soft,’ she sighed.

‘But tough!’ said the Lord excitedly. ‘You cannot imagine what the mother can do or endure.’

‘Can she think?’

‘Not only think, but she can reason and compromise,’ said the Creator.

Finally the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek. ‘There’s a leak,’ she pronounced. ‘I told you, you were trying to put too much into this model.’

‘It’s not a leak,’ said the Lord. ‘It’s a tear.’

‘What’s it for?’

‘It’s for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness and pride.’

‘You’re a genius,’ said the angel.

The Lord looked sombre. ‘I didn’t put it there.’

 

P.P.S.

And, for those of you that know you’re Superheroes, the amateur marketer in me says, “Order that medal you deserve from ROHO!”  (See? Using my multi-tasking superpower:  Blog and sales pitch at the same time!)