5 Parental Superpowers I Possess (That My Husband, Apparently, Does Not)

Having children changes you. Anyone can tell you that. What many don’t realize is that motherhood can provide you with new, some might even say superhuman, abilities.

Like Peter Parker after being bitten by that radioactive spider (that’s Spiderman, for anyone who is unaware and/or is not raising boys), I have developed some pretty significant talents since reproducing that my husband, apparently, has not.

Sensing vomit

In keeping with the superhero analogy, I now have a spidey-sense that can detect vomit halfway across the house, even from a dead sleep.

A little lurch from one of the kids’ stomachs and, faster than a speeding bullet, I’m there (with a bowl, with my own two hands, whatever it takes).

My husband? He can sleep straight through the vomit, my calls for assistance, me stripping the bed, and me running a load of laundry (actually, come to think of it, maybe he has the superhero power here…)

This superpower has been exceedingly helpful since my kids started school and now at least one of my kids is always sick! (At least, that’s how it seems…)

Using the bathroom in less than 20 minutes

When I use the bathroom, it’s in and out in less than a minute, two if we’re counting the time it takes to wash my hands. This process for me typically includes an audience and a Q&A session (Whatcha doing? Where’s your penis? etc.).

My husband? He grabs his phone and disappears for forever 20+ minutes, alone.

Smelling a dirty diaper 

It’s documented science that pregnant women have a heightened sense of smell. Apparently, mine never returned to baseline.

I can walk into a room and instantly notice from afar that our youngest is straight-up rank.

Miraculously, I seem to be the only one in our household with a functioning olfactory system; strike that, I am the only adult with a functioning olfactory system. My four and six year-old will regularly inform me that the baby needs a change, but hubby remains blissfully unaware.

Of course, his sub-par sense of smell could also be a defense mechanism, because, as I’ve written before, bathing in this house is a bit of a struggle these days.

Matching articles of clothing (on children)

Since we have three boys close in age, we are drowning in outfit choices. Choosing a matching ensemble for each boy is easy as pie for me.

If I dress them in outfits that are train-wrecks, it’s not because I didn’t realize it; it’s because those are the articles of clothing that were sitting in the clean laundry pile that I didn’t put away. I was too lazy to walk upstairs for a more reasonable selection.

My husband, on the other hand, can have every available clothing article on hand and still come up with something absurd.

Stripes and plaid? Sure.

Turquoise and Red? Why not?!

Below, you can see a photo of one (of so very many) mismatching incidents. My husband can match his own attire perfectly well, but this skill does not translate to dressing our children. Sometimes I wonder if he’s actually doing it on purpose, so I’ll stop asking him to dress the kids.

The ability to see filth

With three young boys, our house can quickly spiral into disgusting territory. This downward spiral largely goes unnoticed by anyone but me.

I can’t count the number of times my children have assured me that they “cleaned up” only to find their rooms in a state that would make the stars of A&E’s Hoarders shudder. They are incapable of brushing their teeth without getting toothpaste everywhere (counter, floor, ceiling; basically, in the words of Buzz Lightyear, “to infinity, and beyond!”)

And my husband? Sure, he can see some of the clutter, but the genuine filth lurking underneath the Lego pile and scattered Pokemon cards? That’s a no.

What sticky counters?

What toddler-drool coating the windows and storm door?

What suspicious yellow tint to the bathroom floors (and possibly walls…)?

Surely this list could go on, but time around here is limited, as always. If you’re worried that this article is too harsh, let me just say two things:

First, my hubby is the one who proofreads all my posts (mom-brain is real and typos and grammatical errors are my nemesis), so he approved everything in here.

Second, this is a two-part series. Hubby’s superhero powers, which I lack, will be addressed in next week’s installment.

*Update: you can find the 2nd installment, 5 Parental Superpowers My Husband Possesses, That I, Apparently, Do Not Here

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