Superheroes.

When I was 5, I had a pair of Wonder Woman under roos that were pretty much the BEST THING EVER.  I should be embarrassed that my parents have pics of me posing in my underwear, total muscle shots, so completely unabashed, but I'm not.  Because don't mess with 5 year old AmyBee.  I was clearly really, truly Wonder Woman, waiting for my invisible jet to arrive, lasso in hand.  Crime fighter, do-gooder.  I am woman, hear me roar.  The 5 year old confidence is beyond fierce.

So how is it possible that at 37, I lost my ability to channel my inner Wonder Woman?  And why is it ok for a 5 year old girl to have killer confidence, yet a grown woman who shows the slightest bit of oomph, gets written off as a b*tch?  There's something wrong with this picture, right?

Tonight I watched my kids play some strange version of Ninja Turtles saving Barbie.  Justin Bieber somehow ended up in there, but don't get in Michelangelo's way, he wasn't having it.  I did my best to not laugh out loud watching them (ok, there may have been silent giggles...) and listening to a 6 year old and a 4 year old reason with each other about what each character should or shouldn't be doing.  Yes, there were plenty of Barbies crying "save me Ninja Turtles, there's some bad guys coming," and a few turtles shouting, "Justin Bieber get out of my way," but mostly it was intense confidence that was going on, as the 6 year old told the 4 year old how brave and smart Barbie was and that SHE would save the Ninja Turtles next.  And how the 4 year old told the 6 year old, "lets make everybody be BEST FRIENDS!"  And Barbie left Justin Bieber in the dream house and rode off in the sunset with some guy in a half shell.

Killer.
Confidence.

I think tomorrow we should all find our inner superhero.  Gonna swing my lasso.  My invisible jet just needs a tune up.  With a little love, and a little time, I'm going to get it flying better than before.

Let's play.