Today, while walking up the steps to drop my kids off at my mothers’ house (before heading off to work), we noticed an earthworm squiggling around on the sidewalk, crazed in the morning sunlight.  It was being cooked alive on the pavement that was once its cool, sunrise retreat. 

“Oooo look, worms!” squealed my oldest daughter… “Yucky!” screeched my two year old.

Quickly, it became apparent to my oldest that the worm was not going for a casual walk, but yet it was trying to desperately flee to the moist dew in the morning grass.  “Mom, do something!” she wailed.

So what does a mom do at a time like this? She plays ‘hero’ of course! Standing there, in all my morning glory, in my favorite high heels and dress slacks, makeup and hair done up to a tee, I scooped up that darn worm as quickly as possible and tossed it into the lawn. (I must have known, innately, that I’d need to play superwoman today—and had surely dressed for the occasion.)

Woo hoo!  Supermom had saved the day again!  Kids were off to grandma’s and I was then off to work.  But on my car ride to work I got to thinking…

What happens when I can’t play supermom?  What happens when I cannot be ‘hero of the day’ to my girls?  Surely there will come a time when their troubles will surmount to much more than what a simple two-second solution can fix. 

I got my first taste of it when my oldest started Kindergarten last year.  “So and so wouldn’t play with me today!” she would whine.  “So and so says she is not my friend anymore,” so on and so forth.  At first, I felt extremely hypersensitive to her grumbling.

“Honey, I am so sorry your feelings were hurt today,” I’d say. “Why on earth wouldn’t he/she want to play with YOU?!”  But eventually, I decided I needed to take on another tactic because my sympathizing wasn’t helping her AT ALL!  Of course, I wanted ‘my baby’ to know that I am here for her and we can talk about ANYTHING… but treating her like a baby was not helping her at all.  I needed to teach her to become independent.

Bring on the guerilla warfare!  I decided to make a ‘game plan’ with her.  “Ok, so here is the deal,” I said to her one day, after she vented.  “If they don’t want to play with you, it is THEIR loss!”  My six year old looked at me as if I were nuts.  “You are a very nice, fun friend… and if they chose not to play with you, that’s fine. But THEY are missing out on a really cool friend. And you know what?! Kids change their minds all the time and by tomorrow, I bet they will feel differently. And if they don’t, I want you to try to make some new friends that realize how special you are.”  My ‘baby’ didn’t know what to say… but the daily rants became fewer and fewer as the year went on, and I had a happier Kindergartner.

Honestly, it was hard not to be able to make it better for her… but the truth is, by helping her develop a sense of self-confidence/self-worth, I may be doing more for her than ‘saving’ her.  I may be able to make her the hero/superwoman of her own life story.