Supermares of the everyday
Excuse my absence for so many weeks. I promise that it has not been at all voluntary. On the contrary, it has been totally obliged. Obliged because a bad fall on a bicycle this summer killed my bones in the hospital and a very nice shoulder fracture that seems to be the usual for cyclists. So I'm up to the big ones. I have broken the troquiter, a part of the head of the humerus that I did not even know existed and that sounds much more like a part of the car's engine than a human anatomy.
Summary: immobilization for eight weeks and rehabilitation until my hand reaches the top of my head. And giving thanks to God because I have not broken my leg, I have not opened my skull in two nor have I broken my teeth, which are very expensive. The rest, fortunately, heals "free".
In these weeks "in the dry dock", I have not been able to practice as a journalist or as a professor in the university and, although I have remained a full-time mother, you will imagine the enormous limitations of having only one hand for everyday tasks. To begin with, I cut my "Dolly sheep" model hair because I could not comb my hair. I have had very funny scenes like the day I had to corner a string of sausage against the corner of the counter to prepare a sandwich for my hungry children or that one in which I prepared with a hand a delicious roast chicken that I could not get out of the oven .
The fact is that as God does not stitch without thread, This unexpected trip on a bicycle has served to give me several baths: humility, patience and realism. The one of humility is the first. It happens to the 'supermadres' when we discover that, if we are truly sincere with ourselves, the world keeps turning even though we do not participate. It is true that it turns a little slower at times, a little faster others, a little more crooked almost always, but it turns. We are not essential and that is good for everyone.
The second bathroom was patience. Of that I still have several pending doses. I have discovered that everyone around me has been very solicitous of any of my requests, but that their perception of the world - and the urgency of those requests - is not always shared. I remember a day of proverbial canicula in Madrid in which I asked someone to water my beloved plants. And someone answered: "but it has not been so hot". Well, that.
The third bathroom has been realism and is closely related to the previous two.
It turns out that we are not super-mothers because we do super-impossible and superimposable things, but because we do supernormal and super-simple things that are considered superabundant by our environment and, therefore, super-undesirable.
These months I have been 'forced vacations' of a myriad of tasks that I used to do before. All of these supergenials, like hanging clothes, ironing or mopping, impossible to do with one hand. It has been so tired to have my hand in a Napoleonic position that, although it is hard to believe, I am eager to recover the wonderful touch of the warm iron ... What things happen to one. And I know that my family, who has been great in these long weeks, is also looking forward to my quick recovery only out of disinterested love, never to get rid of some task that has "fallen" into the fray. But the fundamental thing is that I love the role that corresponds to me in life. In the end, it's beautiful to be the "superman of the everyday"Because the everyday is what really matters.