Mom or superhero?

Mason and Brant are in a "superhero" phase that began full-force two days ago.
A superhero is defined as possessing "extraordinary or superhuman powers" and dedicated to protecting the public. Hmm well I'm very dedicated to protecting my kids - maybe I fit the superhero description?

My superhuman power: My ability to keep running even when I'm totally out of fuel.
My costume: pjs and an apron. Yes I wear an apron to literally protect me from slimy, cold, sticky hands. I know... its far from spandex.
Special weapon: No, not Thor's hammer but baby wipes. Helps me fight the evil dirt/germ monster on an hourly basis.
Weakness: Kryptonite was Superman's - mine is the sound of chewing. If someone chews loudly I easily turn Hulk-like.
Secret specialized automobile: My minivan - it's definitely my Batmobile. Although voice activation would be nice. "Quite Screaming kids."
Secret identity: I do feel like when I'm doing a chocolate tasting, a fundraiser or an event that I have a costume on...like Clark Kent dressing up in a suit. I have make up on, my hair is done, I have my "nice clothes" on without tiny finger prints on them (hopefully), I'm wearing a shoe or boot on that has some kind of heel, I have jewelry on, etc. People who talk to me have no clue that I'm most likely humming one of Elmos songs in my head. Or I'm trying to concentrate on putting a complete sentence together. I talk so basic at home to the kids. "Do you want a snack?" "Talk nice, please." It's difficult for me to transition to adult words and sentences. In fact by the time I feel I'm getting good at it is when its time for me to pack up and leave.

But who am I kidding? My kids are the real superheros here. They have "saved" me countless times - continously bring out strength in me I never knew I possessed. When I feel low and think, "gosh all I am is a maid, (or a cook, or a referee, etc.) around here." They unknowingly do something to remind me how important it is to have love and to love in this life. This reminder rescues me from taking a stroll down that degrading, untrue path. I'm picking up toys not because I'm a "maid" but because I don't want someone to trip and get hurt. Cleaning? An act of love? Never thought I would feel that way but I do. They save my soul from becoming cold and bitter by bringing pure joy into it - just by them being themselves.