I seem to have misplaced my cape and tiara, but I have been firmly established as “Super mom” here in Chisinau. With 3 kids spaced an average of 2 years apart, I’m a super hero. If ever I doubt that, all I need to do is hop on a trolley with all 3 kids. It’s kind of like the parting of the Red Sea as everyone steps back and a clear path appears in the sardine-style packed trolley for me and my kids make our way to a seat. I’d like to think it’s because I’m a superstar, but it’s probably more akin to getting out of the way of the village idiot. Here’s a shot from the trusty iPhone:
As we ride on our jolly way, I hear whispers all around us – “Wow! look at her with all those kids!” “Do you think they’re all hers?” “How does she do it?” “Oh, that poor, poor mom” and my personal favorite “How do you think she gets them all to behave so well? And be so quiet?” “It’s just amazing.” I think some of those things are said as people hear us speaking English and assume that we can’t understand them. But that’s ok. I make sure the kids hear it – the parts about how quiet and well behaved they are (not so much the ‘poor, poor mom’ bits). They beam, and continue to be their sweet selves.
I’m a superstar. Just line up for autographs, folks. All I ask in return is that you not knock me off my culturally-imposed pedestal!