I am having an intervention for my dirty car

This pic represents how sad my car is right now. But tomorrow, it goes to the beauty salon for cars.

This pic represents how sad my car is right now. But tomorrow, it goes to the beauty salon for cars.

Let me just come out and say it…. my car is a dump. The car itself is nice. It is a great running Honda Element. The car itself is advertised as the car that you can hose out like the back of a pick up truck and easily clean. But really the inside of my car looks like the back of a pick up truck that has is on its way to drop off a load of trash at the dump.

As a mom, the car is the last thing on my mind for cleaning. My toilet is cleaner than my car. My kitchen trash can is cleaner than my car. My car is a sad hunk of metal at the moment. I have been waiting and waiting, putting it off, making up excuses as to why I can’t clean or why I can’t bring it to the car wash. But the straw that broke the camels back, seeing my daughter left over smoothie spilling down the passenger floor of my car. That’s it!!!!! it is going to the car wash tomorrow! I am going to bring it to the car wash, with my head held low, with a big sad look of, “I am sorry, you need to clean my nasty dump truck of a family car”, look.

So here is my “ode to my dirty car”. Or the process of how I’ve got to my lowest of low of epic dirty car status.

Stage 1 – The car has been cleaned. I drive around town with pride. My daughter’s friends admire it and even note how wonderful it is to be in a clean car they can actually move freely around. The seats are vacuumed, there is no dust, crust, and grime anywhere. It smells like a fresh vanilla air freshener.

Stage 2 – The car has some cheerios on the floor, but that is ok. Maybe some crumbs  from a snack leaked into the cracks, but whatever. Easy peasy to just sweep them out. Or if you are my children, find them and eat them. (yeah, gross, I know). There may even be a couple of left over pieces of school work that just didn’t quite make it into the house from the school pick up. Or maybe my daughter left her shoes in the car but she will grab them when she gets in the car tomorrow. No big deal, right?

Stage 3 – At this point, we have collected about 3 pairs of kids shoes in the back. Maybe a couple pairs of stinky socks from after the park play. The stacks of school work has grown to junk mail and maybe a couple empty coffee travel mugs. The snacks on the floor have been walked over, so they now have become crumbs, And in the back of the car, the stroller is full of sand from the beach. Which now means the sand is in the trunk. Along with the left over towels and beach toys that I just couldn’t deal with taking out of the car when we got back from the beach. Cause that would mean I would need to deal with them when they got out of the car. And god forbid, who has time for that?

Stage 4 – We have now entered a zone where other people comment on how dirty the car is. But that is ok, right? I try and avoid driving your work friends at lunch time, in fear of a small amount of embarrassment. But if I need to drive, I just laugh it off as you move the huge pile of shit from the passenger seat to the back. We now have a small wardrobe of shoes, socks, jackets, and maybe a stuffed animal or collection of toys in the back seat. The snacks that were once crumbs, have gotten a bit moist and are now caked into the seats. The kids have made designs on the inside of the windows with their fingers from the grime that has built up. And there is a smell coming from somewhere, that for the life of me, can not figure out what it is. But all I know is that it smells like somewhere between the cross of a rotting apple core and a crusty milk bottle the baby threw into the back of the car and I can’t find. The layer of dust is built up so thick on the dash, you can’t even see the radio screen. And basically every time you get out of the car, you think to yourself, “ok I will bring it to the car wash tomorrow”. But it never happens

Stage 5 – This is the last stage of point of no return. This is the stage where I am seriously contemplating just trading in the car for a new one, cause there is just no way it can ever look clean again. Today has been my breaking point. Today was the day where I finally threw in the towel and am going to head to the car wash tomorrow, come head or high water. I am going to bring up a trash can up to the car, and just dump everything out, cross my fingers, and hope to god that they can clean it. Today was the day that my daughter’s smoothie spilled all down the floor of the car. Today was the day that the left over life lab project, consisting of potting soil and dying seedlings, slide around the back of the car, and dumped dirt the seats where no one can reach. Today was the day that my daughter’s paperwork from school, with a required signature from me, has become so walked on, dripped on, and bent up, that I am going to pretend I never received it and hope they will just give me a new copy so I don’t look like a homeless person when I turn it in.

Today is the day that I stop being such a fucking slob and get my beautiful car back!!!!! Then tomorrow start with Stage 1 all over again.

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Blogging isn’t my entire world… but sometimes I wish it was….

I just started blogging, and I love it! It is so wonderful to receive comments, share my insights and frustrations, and just plain whine and complain about my kids.

For those of you who have read my blog, know that I am a fulltime working parent. I am a graphic designer actually. Recently I have some freelance client work come up. The bad news is that after a long day of working in the office or being at home with the kids, I get to turn on my laptop and do even more design work. The good news is that I get to use that money to buy myself some new clothes. And holy shit I need some new clothes. My clothes are so stained, holey, and just plain ugly. What Not To Wear would LOVE me!!!! I think my goal is to not buy anything that is a cotton knit when I go shopping.

So in order to focus on collecting some Spring/Summer wardrobe money, I am going to put my posting on hold for a couple of weeks. It will be hard…. but I gotta do it. That’s not to say I may be able to sneak in a little rant here and there. But I just can’t commit.

Please, please, please come back and don’t forget about me! I need you like minded mommies to read my posts and share your love.

If anyone is interested in guest posting, shoot me a email at pooponmyhands.blog@gmail.com. Even though I am a new blogger, I still get readers, and it would be fun to expand the community out.

When I come back, I have some great ideas for some posts. Including:

  • Why I hate and love Yo Gaba Gaba
  • I blame my baby’s poor sleep habits on the ghosts in our house
  • I am too young to have old lady hormone issues
  • Will my son ever start walking? I am losing faith
  • Pooping at work. The don’t and do-do’s (har har)
  • I rather kill my husband than divorce him. Why should he get off so easy?

I have more written on  scratch paper somewhere… but I need to get to work. See you in a couple of weeks…. or maybe sooner if I can bust it out.

Is it my snack day again?

photoThis past weekend, while laying on the couch sick as a dog with aches, fever, and a sore throat, I received the dreaded reminder email from our kinder class. “Just a friendly reminder that tomorrow if your snack day”. Oh shit!!!! I totally forgot. Didn’t I just have snack last week? Oh, right… that was a month ago. I laid there contemplating on how I was going to get my ass off the couch and to the store to shop for Monday’s snack day. No, that was not an option. I can barely walk to the bathroom, let alone drive to the store. I asked my husband, which his response of course was, “I am sure we have something here they can eat”. That is his way of saying, “Don’t bother me, I am playing video games”.

With sick kids and a sick mom, we have been pretty much surviving off of the Costco sized Kraft Mac and Cheese and takeout for the past week. Of course that crossed my mind. Maybe I can just make them a huge batch of mac and cheese. Nah, too much work.

So I mustered up the energy and stumbled my way to the kitchen to see what I could scrounge. Fruit bowl. What rotting fruit do I have that I can pan off on the kids? Cutties, yes!!! I have a Costco sized amount of Cutties. And lucky enough, they have about 2 days tops of life in them. Luckily I had 18 total, one for each kid.

Then I rummaged through our pantry. I found a couple half eaten bags of nuts. If I put them all together in one zip-lock bag, it could like a full bag. I also found an opened bag of peanut butter pretzels and a box of unopened crackers. Crackers that I bought months ago, on sale, but no one has wanted to touch them yet, cause really they are only good with fancy cheese on them. Kids don’t give a shit, right?

Ok…. I almost have it. If I can find one more item, like protein or something that can round my buffet, I will be good to go. I checked the fridge. I had a total of 8 string cheese. If I cut them in half, that would give me 16 halves. Hum… there are 18 kids in the class. 2 kids are bound to not want cheese, right? I was banking on that.

So there you have it!!!! I was able to provide snack. I was so proud of myself. Back to the couch I went, to lay there in my misery, counting the minutes till the kids went to bed and I could watch The Walking Dead in peace and quiet.

Then an hour later I see my husband come out of the kitchen eating the string cheese. “WTF are you doing? That was part of my snack for the kids tomorrow”. He didn’t know of course. But he should have known. He should have read my mind that I was saving that for snack day.

The next morning, off to the store I went….. With kids in the car, I ran into the store to purchase one more package of string cheese. And left feeling a bit of defeat and deflation from my once prized accomplishment of feeding 18 kids on an empty kitchen without spending a dime.

Look out, mommy’s getting sick

No one wins when Mom is sick.

No one wins when Mom is sick.

This past week, I was taking care of my sick baby. He had bronchiolitis.  Fever, wheezy, cough, no appetite,  clingy,  lethargic, and up all night. You name it, he had it. And throughout the entire week, I had to stay home with him, while still attempting to get in a 40 hour work week. Which is complete bullshit by the way. By Thursday night, I basically broke down crying when my own dad came over to bring us dinner and play with the kids for a little while. And all awhile, my baby breathed on me, snot-rocketed all over me, coughed in my eyeball, pooped on my hands, drank from my cup, and basically contaminated everything with his funk. And for whatever reason, during this entire week, I felt immune to his infectious virus.

Oh how wrong I was. The tables have now turned. Saturday morning I woke with a wave of anxiety as I noticed that something was wrong with me…. You know the feeling…. The slight thick phlegm building up in the back of your throat. The nasal congestion starting to strain your breathing. The tiny tickle in the back of your throat. Oh yes, you have it, I was getting sick.

Immediately, all these OCD thoughts started running through my drowsy, yet paranoid brain as I begin to go through the five stages of grief.

  1. Denial. “There is no possible way I am sick. Moms can not get sick. I thought moms were suppose to be immune to all germs. If I ignore it, it will go away. This is not happening to me. I can not get sick. It is not an option.”
  2. Anger. “I don’t have time for this shit! I have way too much going on. It isn’t fair!!!!! This is fucking ridiculousness.”
  3. Bargaining. “Ok, if I get sick, it is only for today and that is it! If my body can just hold out for one more day, I can get a ton of shit done first, and then I will allow myself to be sick for 1 day tops”.
  4. Depression. “This is so horrible. How on earth could I get sick? I never get sick. Well fuck it. If I am going to be sick, I am going to milk it for all its worth, and just not get out of bed for days. Maybe I will eat a carton of ice cream and gain 10 pounds. Who cares, anyway? I am going to feel like shit forever.”
  5. Acceptance. “Ok, I give in. I am getting sick. This is my being sick. I can deal with this. I’ll be sick for a few days, and then be better. I have tissues, vitamins, juice, popcycles, ipad, etc.

We all know that when the mom gets sick, the family turns to shit. No matter how fabulous your husband is. He could be the best house husband ever. Rub your feet, grocery shop, keep the bed made, etc. But when the mom is sick, the family goes to shit. There must be a college thesis written on this very topic somewhere.

When any normal adult starts to feel ill, they make some tea, get cozy on the couch with some TV, let the kids have all the screen time they want. That way, they can rest, hunker down and try and get better, in hopes they can catch it before it gets worst.

Not me…. no way. When I woke up Saturday morning with that oh so yucky feeling, I got out of bed, put on my grubbies, and cleaned the entire house from top to bottom at 8:00 am. Then went grocery shopping, and took the kids to the beach to run around and get their sillies out. My theory is that, if I can take care of business now, before I am feeling like complete shit, I can really relax and enjoy being sick in a clean house, a full refrigerator, and tired kids. No bad huh?

I can’t believe I want a minivan, aka “Swagger Wagon”

I never thought I would say this in a million years, but I want a minivan, aka “Swagger Wagon”. I always thoughts minvans were for the moms with the jeans that fitted over the belly button. The moms with the stickers on the back of their cars that showed the stick figures of every person, pet, house plant that lives in their household.

But minivans rock it these days. I mean, how cool is it that you can press a button and the door of your car opens right in front of you, hands free. Or how you can hold the entire soccer team, circus clown group, and enough balloons to float a small boat. Here are my top reasons why I want my next car to be a minivan:

1. In a zombie apocalypse, you could practically live in your minivan. Or glorified camping. With a frig, entertainment system, enough space to sleep a family of 4 comfortably, cup holders…. what more do you need? Once my kids are teenagers, I could easily use the minivan to steak out and spy on date night. I’d be all set for a solid few hours with food and entertainment.

2. The minivan could be used as your “mom cave”. In our house my husband has a man cave. It is the only room in the house that he can keep as dirty or clean as he wants. No judgement. He can go hide out there and get away when needed. I used to have one of those before we had our second child. But with the birth of our son, I forwent my mom cave. But with the minivan, you could tell your husband that you are going to head out to run a couple of errands, and go park down the street with popcorn a movie, and be set for a couple hours of “me time”.

3. The minivan holds a butt load of people. I have to admit, I have always fantasized about being the mom who can haul my kids and all their friends around town. I don’t know, for whatever reason, I always thought it would make me the “cool mom” to drive them around town with Miley Cyrus blasting, windows down, and a bunch of screaming girls in the back. Call me silly, but I really want that to be my reality.

Someday I will have my own swagger wagon. Someday….. I just need to talk my husband into how sexy it will make me. Yeah, right.

Failing at being Supermom

With this being a new blog for me, I am still finding my voice and my writing style. I would love every post to be knee slapping funny, have a sense of sarcasm and just touch every parent who reads it on a level of connection with humor attached. But sometimes, my posts are going to be more of a barf of words. A rant of how I struggle with parenting, or hopefully succeed in parenting. With that said….

___________________

stressed

Failing At Supermom

I am failing at being a Supermom! (I feel like I am in an AA meeting right now, introducing myself, “Hi I am Delia, and I am failing at being a Supermom.”)

Before I had children, I had this ideal image of what motherhood meant to me. I would be the soccer mom, the bake sale mom, the mom with the bumper sticker on her mini van that says, “My child is an honor student at…”. I wanted to stay home with my children and spend my days cleaning house, cutting coupons, trying new recipes, be the perfect at home mom.

Ok back to reality. Supermom is a myth. Reality is that I work full-time and I am a full-time mom. I chose this path. I wanted to be with my kids and not in the office full-time. But I am wearing myself too thin. I flake on parenting participation commitments for school. I “heat” vs cook dinner. I let my kids watch WAY too much TV. And I always have the huge mountain of dirty and clean laundry that needs to be washed or folded. I can’t do it all!!!! Plus I am balancing the kids school and home, along with checking emails, and working late nights.

Tonight, after getting the baby to bed, I rushed out to the store to buy paints and mushrooms for a life lab project for the kinder class tomorrow. Two weeks ago, it was my turn for life lab again, and I forgot half the items on the list for the project, and had to back out last minute.

I also work in the kinder class every other Tuesday. Which I have my mom or my sister in law watch the baby. At 5:30 this evening, I got a wave of panic, realizing I had forgotten to arrange childcare for him for tomorrow, so I could work in the class.  This over extending of my time seems to happen on a daily basis for me.

Field trips, bake sales, nutritious homemade meals, storytime every night, arts and crafts, properly brushed teeth twice a day. It just doesn’t happen on a regular basis. If I am lucky maybe once a month? Ok, I have to admit, we have gotten better about the teeth brushing. But this is after 2 “princess teeth”. That is a nice way to describing her 2 silver crowns due to root canals.

Oh well, what can I say? My heart is into it. My intentions are good. My kids are fed. They have clean clothes and a roof over their heads. And in the end, they feel safe and loved. What more can I ask for…. oh yeah, maybe some sleep and a big bowl of ice cream. That would be nice.

It’s Not Easy Being Green

Where I live being “green” is very important. Our community promotes being environmentally conscious everywhere you turn. I like to think that I do my part…. but I know I can improve leaps and bounds. I try and buy organic as much as I can afford. We use wax paper snack bags or reusable Tupperware and reusable water bottles. I had been cloth diapers for the first year of my son’s life. Now I use decomposable disposable diapers. I also eat the leftover food off my kids plates, because it would be a waste to throw it out. There are starving people all over the world, you know.

Being a "green" mom does not come easy for me.

Being a “green” mom does not come easy for me.

But often times I find myself thinking, this just isn’t enough. I need to do more to help contribute to saving the Earth. But it’s hard being a busy mommy on the go, and “green” at the same time. And these are my top reasons why:

1. The shower is my babysitter. I have to say, water is a natural resource that I waste. I am not proud of it, mind you. But I love using hot water. Taking a super long shower is my way of taking 20 min to myself and just zone out in utter heaven. My kids apparently feel the same way. Their favorite activity is what we call a “showerbath”. A showerbath is when you basically take a shower with the bath plugged up. My kids can take a showerbath forever!!!! At least until the water runs cold. And in that amount of time, I can get the entire house cleaned, dinner going, check my Facebook feed, water the garden and sneak some ice cream. It is the best babysitter ever!

2. Paper grocery bags make great trash bags for holding the recycle. I think it was a quote from the show Modern Family, where one of the characters says, “I haven’t been judged by this many people since I forgot my canvas bags at Whole Foods.” I own at least 10 reusable grocery bags. They live either in my car or in the corner of my kitchen. But for whatever reason, they never make it into the grocery store. I would like to think that it is just too much with carrying the baby, my purse, and/or travel coffee mug, that causes me too overwhelmed for the grocery bags. But frankly I am just too damn lazy to get them out.

So every time I get to the checkout stand, I get really nervous. I mean, who am I to forget the reusable bags? I feel like the cashier is judging my ass up and down. I mean, how could I? The nerve. So what do I do? I make this huge stink about how I always make sure to reuse the paper bags in a very productive manner. I tell the cashier the same story I have told them over and over. About how the paper bags makes great trash bags for my recycle. And how it is so much better than plastic bags for the environment  I don’t know… somehow it makes me feel a little better. Sometimes when I feel really guilty, I will buy a new reusable bag to add to my collection of other reusable bags that are sitting in my car.

3. Baby wipes are my best friend. I love baby wipes. I use them for everything. They are stashed at the diaper station, my kitchen table, the bathrooms, my purse, my car, everywhere. I use them to wipe my kids ass, my own ass, the table, the highchair, my car dashboard, the kids hands after the park or store. I love this wonderful, slightly modern invention. But apparently they do not decompose very quickly in the landfill.  And I could easily use a wet cloth towel or sponge when cleaning everything (but our asses), but then I would need to wash the towels. And I am saving my water consumption for my 30 minute long showers. Oh and by the way, I probably use about 10 wipes or more when cleaning poop off the baby’s ass. I think I still get poop on my hands even with that amount of wipes.

4. Saving Electricity. The other day our power went out for about 5 min while PG&E worked on the house. I have to say, for those 5 minutes, it felt like a shift in the vibrating energy of our home. And for 5 minutes, I felt extremely relaxed and peaceful. It felt really great. And I want to get back to that again. Our house always has a TV on, or computers running, lights on somewhere, baby monitor etc. Oh and the heater. Don’t get me started on that.

Someone was telling me the other day that I need to get an EMF protector. I laughed inside thinking about how we would need about 100 EMF protectors from the amount of energy our house uses. And it doesn’t get any better at night. I believe we have a nightlight in almost every room of the house. Mainly this is because I don’t want to run into the wall and kill myself when the baby wakes up, and I have to stumble to help him. That and if our daughter needs to get up in the middle of the night to pee, there is a light showing her the way. And god forbid we miss a text or phone call on our cell phones. So those must be on and charged at all times. You could probably power up a small village with the amount of energy we use on a monthly basis.

There are parents out there that are extremely on top of it when it comes to purchasing “green” cleaning products, saving our natural resources, and just contributing to saving the Earth with every $30 water bottle they purchase and reuse. And to them, my hat is off! I think about them every time I clean my child’s plate and take home another 10 paper bags from the grocery store.