Battle against the inner supermom

I usually bake on the weekends.  I usually bake for Thom.   I guess it all started off as something to treat him with but he seemed so overjoyed with it that it became a weekly habit.   So maybe I usually bake for me.  

I bake cheese and onion pasties, oatmeal raisin chocolate chip cookies and sometimes a batch of cupcakes.  He works his way through them as part of his lunches at work.  Goodness knows the man needs the calories.  To help with his guns, of course, he would tell you.

I am returning home on the train this Wednesday evening willing myself to compete the baking I never finished this past weekend.  There is pastry chilling in the fridge and butter softening outside of it.  I admit it.  I got tired.  

Oh, the guilt!  Completely self imposed, as he seems to trundle on through the week without a winge.  I guess I got a bit addicted to feeling like the superwife.  I can be a professional, knock out a decent couple dozen cookies and look good doing it.   It felt important to me, knowing that man cannot stay attracted to appearance alone.  I had something else to get him salivating with each batch of weekend baking. 

So what now, I ask myself, not certain that I can be asked to get it going in the kitchen when I get in about 15 minutes from now.  The twins are not even here yet, I'm getting huge (Thom commented that his arms would no longer wrap all the way around last night) and on top of all that, superwife is fading away with the krypontite that is motherhood.

Thankfully I came across an article in the Evening Standard on the way home.  Good news! The mom that can do it all is a myth! (check out the article for yourself here.)  Tips are to delegate, accept flaws and limitations and laugh when you can.  Can I start tonight, by leaving the pastry another day?  I feel a twang of anxiety and a little flurry of 'what if's.  Things to overcome, I suppose, on my mama-tastic way to being normal mom, instead of the mythical supermom.