Trying To Be Super Mom

I parented hard in the last two days, so much, that when my husband called me supermom tonight it felt good to hear. I just got my tiniest human down at ten twenty-seven pm. For the last day and a half we had to manage through RSV and bronchitis.

We were between hospital and home starting at night again in the morning to return due to my eighteen months old laboured breathing. His fever soared to high temps of 39.4 degrees Celsius with no sign of relief. We have been here once before when Max was six months of age. Last time we had this he stayed one week on the pediatrics ward of the Guelph Hospital. Recognizing the signs this time around I’m glad we took a pro active approach.

Going through this again was draining on my emotions and my ability to feel like I was doing my job as his mother. When we had to do his x-ray and nebulizer I felt like the worse mother who existed. The x-ray for infants and toddlers seems like torture devices. As I put on my lead vest, placing my baby into the tube holding his arms above his head, he screamed so loud. I felt so useless, the only words I could say to him was I’m sorry. Tears streamed down both our eyes. I would never cause my children pain and seeing him in distress tore my heart out. I know that these treatments are to help him but non the less I wish I could have stolen his pain away and made his world harm free.

Not my child but a picture to show the x-ray tube. Instead of a calm baby shown here Max was screaming. His looked terrified. I think this was the second moment in the hospital I felt like a failure.

The moment that hit me the hardest was trying to place a nebulizing mask on my sons face. As advised from the nurses I had to hold my son down and keep the mask on his face. The first nurse left Max and I to our own devices. Maximus with his strength of fifty babies on steroids; fought hard like Muhammad Ali in the ring, left me feeling defeated. I was thankful another nurse took sympathy and held the mask while I tried to wrangle Maximus to stay still. Essentially I channelled my inner Steve Irwin and crocodile wrested my stressed toddler. In these moments I felt so primal that afterwards I wanted to break.

This emotional ride of Maximus being sick has left me feeling defeated. I waited for the cab for thirty minutes with him sleeping in my arms. From the wheezy breath sounds and small whimpers escaping from his lips I had a moment of panic. How can I be a good mother when all I wanted to do was get home and cry. I felt utterly selfish at this moment, I wanted to be a good mother but instead I thought of myself.

Since we got home he was given a plethora of medication, adding to the layers of distress. After napping with Max to monitor his breathing I put on Thomas the Train and took a shower. I got my moment of clarity that even feeling defeated is part of the mother package. Being alone today and handling a sick child was my wake up call that even with life throwing some serious wrenches I can do this. When my husband called me supermom; I choked back my tears of self-doubt, and plan to hold on a little longer.

This is a stepping stone in learning motherhood. I can either sink or swim or roll with the punches. I sit here typing feeling relieved to know my baby will be OK, all of this will be OK. My muscles may be sore from rocking my child, my body tired from the last day and half, but I feel clear in how much I love my children and what it takes to make sure they have a mother that cares. I will give one supermom moment at a time until my last breath.

Written by: Ali Johnson

My husband The Caveman, Mr Max, and myself.

”Today is a gift”

”PO: How’s Shifu ever going to turn me into the Dragon Warrior? I mean, I’m not like The Five. I’ve got no claws, no wings, no venom. Even Mantis has those…thingies. Maybe I should just quit and go back to making noodles.
Oogway: Quit, don’t quit? Noodles, don’t noodles? You are too concerned about what was and what will be. There is a saying: yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the “present.”
Kung Fu Panda


I wanted to quit last week from my blog from everything: I thought I wasn’t good enough for this. How many writers out there create works of art that receive recognition. I started writing to put my passion out there for others to see. I want my work to show the little girl in my mind breaking free. Years she spent in her own mental prison placed in solitude because I gave up on her. I once told her everyone was right we stood for nothing. She spent years screaming at me from a distance every moment in self-doubt. She and I need to repair the damage we created and it starts today.


I am my promise to not throw this white flag of surrender into the wind. Even with the last few days of sucking with people and my mental disagreements I will not give in. I owe it to the little girl I locked away in my mind and told her to be perfectly silent. I put her away to appear strong my will unbroken. If I had given her chance to bond with the woman on the outside, we would have been able to take on any challenge. I placed brick walls around her with each event in my life that left us broken. She tried to break to the wall countless times. I built more mental bricks to hide her away telling her to be silent as I was being silenced on the outside. I know now that I should have let her free allowing us to heal together.


It’s easy to forget the child that lives within ourselves. For those that suffered abuse that inner child is commonly placed deep within the subconscious and forbidden to see the world outside the mind. It’s easy for me to question myself on the importance of quitting today or keep pushing for success for tomorrow. Much Like Po from Kung Fu Panda, I feel that I am not going to be great like other people out there. In his statement regarding the five other Kung Fu warriors; he trains alongside with, should be the dragon master and not himself. He felt that he lacked talents that make him worthy of the title placed on him. I feel like this most days titles I hold feel intimidating to me. I’m a mother, a wife, a woman, and now a writer. Feeling close to the sentiments from Kung Fu Panda, it teaches me try as someone can they feel insignificant to those who show natural greatness.

Oogway’s statement rings true for it states that we should live at the moment and accept the gifts that one holds to themselves. We can learn from our mistakes in the past but it does not define who we are today.
Do not forget to free the child inside your mind. It stands as the ticket leading to tomorrow but living in the gift of life today.
Written By Ali Johnson
February 25, 2018

I won’t accept your apology.

For the love of god do not say sorry.

I have lived through the story.

You let me beg for a chance to live,

I tried over and over to give and give.

You took a piece of my lively soul.

You old actor, your stage is awful.

You made me look sick, it’s unlawful

You drugged me since I was three.

You did this with sickly glee

Then your son took my innocence at four

Until eight when I was old enough to know more

Easy target I was to him, no one would know his sin

That is what happens when you’re merely a foster kid

Then he moved, someplace far away from there

It doesn’t matter though the mental scare fared

In my mind to start the rest of mental duress

You’re a liar, nothing but full of stories

Don’t worry lady I can hold on to everyone’s worries

Let’s talk about the drinking you let him do

In front of us? Don’t you know kids are like glue?

He was trying to forget erase this and that

Like tit-for-tat but you don’t get the last laugh

It’s enough for us kids to see you fight with him

your sense of power whoever you could dim

I hold no memories of the smell of clean

You hoarded and loved the power of mean

Filthy is what our life was from a young start

But lady bloody hell do you ever play the part.

You had everyone fooled to think I was dumb

Retarded before I could even suck my thumb.

You swore up and down that something was off

You made parents hate me laugh and scoff

Call it what you can you the one that was sick

But we kids were your target you must be some kind of thick

To think that someone wouldn’t’ notice three underfed kids

Who were angry and sad but actually we were scared out of our lids

Then the bladder control thank you for taking another part of me

You liked that it became infected, you waited no I can no longer pee

Right as a grown up I am safe from you, false doctor

You had the medications, the story, and the means, how you never falter.

Let’s talk about the kidnapping I remember it well, do you after all?

Insanely legal as you were guardian another way of control, no way to fall

You took us out of anger played the abused card, you and your farce

You cut contact and hid us well, you lied again pulled stories out of your arse

But you liked it right? That scent of fear and control, you regained your reign, way to care

But no more I am free now and you hate it, let’s not kid can you face it

You tried to kill me but I stood up, I am strong filled with life and grit

So don’t say you sorry because the one thing that happened is you failed

And from that I don’t wish you a dear farewell, because lady our ship has sailed.

Written by Ali Johnson