Super Hero for a Day...

Not to toot my own horn or anything... but today I was SUPER MOM! A pretty fancy feat for a single chick with no kids, dontcha think?

I was woman on a mission. I was a hero on the move. I was lookin' good in my leopard print shades (yes... every hero has their vice and mine is accessories... hey, if I'm gonna save the world I might as well look good doin' it!). My super-hero-dom even came with it's own sweet ride, a hunter green Chevy Venture. I mean really... what good would Super Mom be without a rockin' mini-van? It's just the way it had to be.

My mission (and I chose to accept it): To pick up the McEwen family of five from JFK terminal one and transport to Newark International Airport hotel.

I arrived at JFK at 2:05, precisely the time of arrival of Lufthansa flight 410 from Munich, Germany. Excellent. The McEwen family hit the ground as I hit the bathroom (vice #2 for this super hero... Coke Light).

I found myself a comfy spot perched on an oversized planter and awaited the arrival of my people as I nibbled on overpriced pretzels and hummus.

First, let me mention that super heroes rarely blend in with the crowd. Whether we are incognito or dressed in our wackiest super hero apparel, we are hard to miss. Maybe it's the aura of helpfulness... or perhaps the persona of power... whatever the draw may be people tend to find us. “Excuse me,” a tiny Asian woman approaches me. “I lost my fa-der and I am so solly to bod-der you but would you call and talk to him for me?”

Being the good hero that I am I decide I should just let her use my phone. Maybe not the smartest idea in a crowded New York airport... but seriously, what is she going to do? Run away? I'm a GIANT compared to her. If worse comes to worst... I'll just sit on her. So with my plan of action in place I hand over my super cellular device. The woman reaches her father, speaks to him in a language I don't understand, and hands back my phone. Catastrophe number one averted.

Two minutes later I am approached again. This time by a twenty some year old male. “Excuse me... but are you Romanian?” He asks looking like he expects me to say yes.

“Say what?”

“Are you Romanian?”

“Um no. Do I look Romanian?”

Now that may sound a bit harsh for a Super Mom like me... but I did say it with nicest of tones AND he did take me slightly off guard (just sayin'). However, I suppose my answer didn't suit him because he just rolled his eyes and walked away. Totally unfair tactic avoiding my question when I took the time to answer his but whatever. Strange occurrence number one diverted.

The McEwen family arrived shortly after that so we got them all packed into the mom-mobile and were soon on our way. Now everyone knows that any super hero worth talking about has a trusty sidekick and mine was Gabby, my slightly misguided yet oft useful GPS.

Gabby (like all good sidekicks) has a knack for making my life more interesting and today was no exception. Instead of guiding me back down through Staten Island and over to Newark, Gabby decided to take me on a “shortcut” through Manhattan. HAH... HAH... HAH (note sarcasm). Shortcut indeed. Our 30 minute ride took TWO HOURS! The poor kids were sitting in the back of the car begging for something to drink and crying about wanting to “go home” to the hotel.

Of course... being the super hero that I was for the day... I decided that no child should be thirsty after having flown across the ocean and plopped into NYC for the first time ever. So... gauging the distance between me and the next street vendor and calculating the estimated time of each red light, I unbuckled my seat belt, put the van in park, jumped out and ran down the street. Isn't it fun being a super hero??? Granted I left Cristi with strict instructions to drive on if the light changed (no matter how far they got I knew I could catch up with them before the Holland tunnel). So five minutes and five bottles of soda later I caught up with the van and jumped back in. Thankfully, in New York City no one seems to notice anything as common place as people jumping in and out of cars to go shopping at red lights. Check one for crying children appeased.

Two blocks later... “Momma! I need to PEE!!!!” Ut oh... this was NOT a job for super mom! This is definitely a job for real mom. Cristi seems unfazed by a three year old needing to relieve himself in the middle of bumper to bumper NYC rush hour traffic and she whips out an old McDonald's cup. Being that this super hero was raised in a family of girls... I was a little taken aback by this approach but it seemed to work. The three year old was happier and so were we. Until Cristi was stuck holding a cup full of urine and her side of the van was blocked in by miles of traffic. That was when she politely mentioned that my unhindered side of the van was stopped right over a drainage grate... great. Taking a super hero sized sigh I gritted my teeth and held out my hand for the potty cup. Yes ladies and gentleman... I threw the pee down the drain. If that isn't a super feat I don't know what is. Catastrophe number two totally shut down!

I wove in and out of automobiles for the next hour until we finally reached our destination. After helping to unload the car and carrying one totally zonked out child up to bed I exchanged my hugs and goodbyes. And that my friends is where this Super Mom checked out. I hung up my cape and called it a day... because even a well accessorized super hero like me needs to go back to reality sometime.