My True Potential – A Mother's Day Essay

Recently I was thinking about a conversation I had with my daughter, just before she turned four last June. While I was busy cleaning one Saturday morning she approached and asked, “Mommy, have you found yaw twoo potenshowl?” 

“My ‘true potential’?” I answered back. Hmm, my “true potential.” Wow. What a question, I thought, as I stood over the kitchen sink filled with bubbles gazing out the kitchen window wearing my latex-free rubber gloves, my paint-stained Capri yoga pants (which I’ve never used for yoga), and my bleach-stained “York Zoo” t-shirt. 

Have I found my true potential? Then it actually hit me, does she even know what true potential means?

“Do you even know what true potential means?” I asked her. “Nope.” she confirmed.  “Well, where did you hear that from?” I was intrigued. “Kai fwom Ninjago.” Ahh, Ninjago. The beloved Lego Ninjago series about four Ninjas: Kai, Jay, Cole and Zane. Oh, and we can’t forget about Sensei Wu. My kids collected both legos AND watched the TV show that was on Cartoon Network or one of those channels.  A marketing agent's DREAM.  

“So, who has to find their true potential?” I might as well learn about the show they’re obsessed with. “Welw, Kai is the last one to find his twoo potenshowl,” she explained.  “And what does he get when he finds it?” I was hoping for maybe an answer of a five-karat diamond ring or tennis bracelet but all I got was a shrug and “I dunno.” 

I called for my son and he clumsily came up the stairs. “What does Kai get when he finds his true potential?” I asked. He looked at me, baffled, and said, “Why are YOU talking about this?” I rolled my eyes and said, “Just don’t worry about it, what does he get?”

“Well,” he started out like he was about to present a dissertation, “They don’t GET anything really, they have the ability to finally unlock their ‘power.’ Each Ninja has a power and they have to find it by realizing their 'true potential.’” I was so disappointed and I felt stupid being lectured by a six-year-old. “SO WHAT DOES ZAI GET?”

“KAI!!” they both yelled back at me. Whatever. “Kai,” my son went on, “gets the power of fire and they all learn spinjitzu.”

“Spinjitzu? And what would that be?” I asked.

“Spinjitzu allows them turn into a tornado,” he answered.

Dude, now we’re talkin’, I can totally relate to that!! My house looks like it’s been hit by a tornado. Between going to work, driving the kids around, going to appointments, making dinner ... the list goes on and on! I totally have the art of Spinjitzu mastered and I am a BLACK belt!! My KIDS have the art of spinjitzu mastered – you should see their bedrooms! We are SPINJITZUFIED as a family!  We are SPINJITZULICIOUS! 

Then my daughter chirped in, “Zane found out his twoo potenshowl by finding out he was a Nindwoid!”

“A Nindroid?” Now they’re throwing another Ninjago term out there just to mess with me. “What the heck is a Nindroid?”

“A robot,” my son explained.

“Wait,” I said because how can you NOT know you’re a robot? “Zane is a Nindroid, a robot, and he didn’t even know it? How do you NOT know you’re a robot?”

“His fathaw fawgot to tell him!!” my three-year-old yelled in her excitement as my son yelled over her, correcting her adamantly, “No no no! His father, who built him, put in a memory switch and shut it off so he couldn’t remember he was a robot.” 

Huh. Maybe that’s why I can never remember where I left my keys, or that time I didn’t remember to put the crock-pot on in the morning so we could have a nice home-cooked dinner at night, or when I call my daughter’s name when I really want my son, or when I completely forget when permission slips and fundraiser events are due or to pay bills.... Maybe I should look for my memory switch somewhere. Maybe I’m a Momdroid. Dear God, I think I’m a Momdroid. The Bionic Woman had Fembots… who said there can’t be Momdroids???

So now they’re both looking at me, staring, and my three-year-old daughter finally asked again, “So Mommy, you didn’t answew my question.  Have you found yaw twoo potenshowl?” 

There I was, standing at the kitchen sink filled with soap bubbles that were now dissolving into the water after our long conversation about Ninjago. Latex-free gloves still on, sponge and spray-bottle in hand. I was looking down upon my two little kids in their cute little PJs with their bed-head sandy blond hair. I looked into their big brown eyes blinking back at me and all I could do was smile as my heart filled with joy and love.

“Yes,” I said with certainty. “I definitely found my true potential.”

I know! I know! Corny ending, but it’s “twoo.”