Wonder Woman's Got Nothing on Me

These days Wonder Woman is the one making headlines, but a few years ago I, myself, developed amazing superpowers. I used to be an ordinary person, like you, but the introduction of alien DNA during pregnancy gave me bewildering new capabilities. And kids to test those powers. I’m still working on my Super Name, but a good one will need to encapsulate the full range of my new Super Powers, which include:

Sleep deprivation. It’s an odd talent, but I wield the power of sleep deprivation. Whenever I want to get up early to work, while it’s quiet, no one in the house is able to sleep. Not a single person. I have that power. 

“Mom, I can’t sleep. Why are you up? Will you tuck me in, again?”
 Child, go back to bed.
“Mom? Are you up? He woke me up and I can’t go back to sleep.”
Deadlines! I have deadlines!

I can also slow down time—or, stop it completely. When I tell the kids to clean their rooms, time actually stands still, because there are no outward signs of motion or life: 

Clean your room. Let’s see some progress.
“But it’ll take for-ev-er!”  
No kidding.

 

I control chaos and violence, and can unleash it by the simple act of stepping into the bathroom:

“MOOOOOOOOM! HE WON’T SHARE!! ARE YOU IN THE SHOWER?! WHERE ARE YOU????”
“SHE STOLE MY GUMMIES!!”
“STOP HITTING ME!”
“MOM, SHE’S LYING!!”
“OWWWWW!!”

I also have the power to empty minds and delete powerful memories:

Where’s your lunch bag?
“I forgot it at home.”

Where’s your lunch bag?
“I forgot it at school.”

“I need a Greek costume today for school!”  
Today?! When did they tell you needed a costume??
“I forget.”

Did you know that I can teleport items? 

“Mom, I can’t find my shoes!! Wait, how did they get here?”

… or, I can choose to make them disappear altogether:

“I’ve looked everywhere! Pink Bear is GONE, and I’ll never find him!!”

Not to brag, but I also command a legion of zombies who will only do my bidding. It’s true—they have no original thought of their own:

Hon, did you pick up more milk on your way home?
“No, you didn’t tell me to.”

Did you practice trombone today, Sweetie?
“You didn’t tell me to.”

It’s 10 o’clock at night. Why are you still up, and eating cookies?
“You said we could have dessert.”

 

As if these powers weren’t enough, I’m able to communicate beyond the range of human hearing. Sort of like a whale:

It’s time to turn off the TV. Turn it off. Hellooooo? Can anybody hear me? 

My new abilities are astounding. But at times they weigh heavily on me—more like a curse. It’s at those moments I’d give anything to be just an average mom.