Someone took on a new identity a couple of weeks ago. Meet my own little superman. Ask him his name and he'll tell you "Supe-man" and I'm "Superman's mum". He flies and he fights bad guys. Its a whole lot cute.
We were in hospital last week for a few days. An itchy bite became infected, and his leg was swollen. I am very thankful to live in a western country where we get specialised care, great resources (the playroom and individual tv/dvd's for each child are a godsend as is the Ronald McDonald room for parents and whanau) and its all free. I heard a few people moaning and it annoyed me.
However hospital is such a pressure cooker. Everyone is there for something scary and so emotions run high. It broke my heart to see single parents struggling with sometimes several littlies, or children who were failing to thrive due to neglect. I saw angry, frustrated parents and it made me aware once again of how lucky we are to have healthy kids. Ours was just a glitch. Some of these children have life-threatening diseases.
By Saturday, Superman was fighting fit. I've whispered to him to keep away from kryptonite. The world needs all the super heroes it can get.
Pausing to consider
Up, up and away.