I'm not quite sure what happened. Life is suddenly on fast forward.
Now that we have a large yard and spring is showing signs of life—real buds on the trees!—we're outside playing. Running and jumping. Chasing robins. We never sit down.
Diddly is four months old and had his first taste of rice cereal. And Junior? He's finally showing interest in something other than the Island of Sodor: superheros. He literally woke up one morning and demanded we tell him everything we know.
Chuck's been able to regale Junior with tale upon tale of superhero triumph but me? My superhero knowledge is rudimentary at best. All I know is that as a child I wanted to be Wonder Woman. More than anything. I didn't care about the other superheros. I had the Wonder Woman bathing suit and underoos and whenever I could, I spun around my room in them, happy as a pig in shit.
I told Junior as much as we Googled "Wonder Woman" so he could see what she looked like. His eyes practically popped out of his head.
Suddenly "Mommy wanted to be Wonder Woman, Junior" sounded more like "Mommy wanted to have big hooters and a little waistline so everyone would lust after her, Junior." The fact that Wonder Woman had an invisible jet and a magic lasso didn't seem quite as impressive as her cleavage; even Junior seemed to get that.
Ah, we give little girls such heights to aspire to.
After Junior's introductory superhero tutelage was complete, Chuck and I asked him which superhero he'd like to be. He said Superman. Not 10 minutes later I got an email asking if I'd like to review a costume. Did they have Superman? Yes. They even had a Superman costume with muscles (aka the Deluxe Kids Superman Muscle Chest Costume).
Sweet serendipity, Batman! And holy six-pack:
Junior loves his built-in muscles. He zips around the house fighting evil (hence why all the pictures are blurry):
He gnarls fierce gnarls:
He's a quick study, although he can't seem to remember that Superman sometimes fought alongside the Incredible Hulk, not the Incredible Troll.
It's a great costume, really. Hand-washable. Affordable (under $30). Sturdy. Bendy. Comfortable. Comes with a cape (which can be worn by itself) and belt. The one problem? Superman has spent a lot of time itching his neck:
It's easily solved with a turtleneck underneath, but for now, it's enough to make Junior eager to hang up his cape.
And return to the Island of Sodor.
(If your kid's into superheros, check out these. There's even a Wonder Woman costume. Built-in cleavage not included.)
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.