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.

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My daughter and I joined a commune, or we turned goth…. can’t decide

Goth kids rule!

Goth kids rule!

This past Saturday morning, my 6 year old daughter woke up, and decided that her and I should match our fashion statements for the day. We decided we were going to take a  little drive to our local farmers market for a outing and purchase of veggies and flowers. Northern California right now is in the low 70’s this time of the year. So you really don’t need a coat.

After comparing wardrobes, she decided the only way we could  absolutely match, would be to both wear black. I offered for both of us to wear jeans and a colorful shirt. Nope, wearing jeans is against every thing she stands for. So that was out the window. I tried offering leggings and yoga pants. You know, my usual daily uniform. Nope! We had to be “fancy”. So the only thing that would work would be both of us in head to toe black.

So she put on a black dress and I put on a flowy black shirt. And of course I needed to put on a black shirt so it looked like a dress. And because I haven’t shaved my legs in a about a month, I wore black leggings under my skirt. Sue me it is winter time. And who has sex when you have a 1 year old anyway? Since I wore leggings, she wanted to wear black tights under her dress. Lastly she settled on both of us wearing our black leather Mary Jane shoes.

She was so proud. Mommy and daughter, matching so fancy. And shit, for once I was cool for a split second. You better believe I was soaking in all that attention.

Before arrived to the farmers market, my sister-in-law stopped by pick up my husband for a run. Immediately she looked us up and down and asked in a very sincere tone, “Who’s funeral are you going to?”

After that, I started to get a little concerned that we didn’t look as cool as I thought. But oh well, off to the farmers market, mother and daughter, hand in hand. Walking around the farmers market, we received various interesting looks. People staring at us with concern, or smiles, or mixed emotions. I imagined their thoughts ranging from, “who died?” to “what commune did they belong to?” to “Poor child, her mother must be raising her to be a devil worshiper?” to “Do you think they have electricity where they live? Or just light candles at night and get up to milk the cows in the morning”.

The funny thing about all this, is that back in the day, I rocked the goth look. In high school, I was all about the black clothes, the dark make-up, the big army boots. My dark fashion statements represented my tormented misunderstood soul. I figured anyone who flashed a concerning look at my clothing choices, could just fuck off and go drink their yuppy wheat grass. Now that I am an adult, I have to say, I no longer feel I am a suffering soul. And quite frankly, feel more comfortable in brightest of colors. And I have to say, there is a level of comfort I find in wearing clothes that are the “norm”, even if it is yoga pants and a fitted tee. But at the same time, I think everyone should let their freak flag fly. More power to you! (ok off my soap box)

Back to my story. We rocked my commune/goth look. And my daughter was stoked that we looked the same. She was proud that her mom wanted to match her fashion suggestion. And proud that we belonged together in a public crowd. If she wanted us to go to the farmers market in clown outfits, I would wear a red nose and rainbow wig with pride. Cause these days are few and far between. Pretty soon, she will “just die” if we wear the same color underwear, let alone the same color shirt or pants. I have to soak up these little precious moments as much as I can. They grow up way too fast.

My mom hates my gay socks

rainbowsocks

These are my rainbow “diversity” socks. Aka, my gay pride socks. And I love them!!!

You may be wondering why on earth would I name my blog post, “My mom hates my gay socks”? Well, I will get to that. But to build up to such a interesting title, I will need to give you some background first.

I have mommy issues…. Doesn’t every grown woman? Probably started in high school, as many mommy issues start. I love my mom to death. We are very similar and yet very different. We are both artists, dancers, lovers of gardening, charismatic, and huge drama queens who love attention. But while her artistic style is more vintage/retro, mine is more spiritual/natural. We are both belly dancers. But while she is a glittery cabaret dancer, I am more an earthy tribal style dancer. She is pretty much a diva. She walks into a room and owns it. She is always put together. Make-up, hair, fashion, shoes, everything.

Then there is me…. long pause…. I blame it on the “Rebellion of 1994”. When every teenage girl claims she will never be like her mother. And I think it has subconsciously never gone away.

She told me the other day, and I quote, “I will tell you something my mother told me and now I will tell you. If you don’t look good for your husband at the end of the day, after he has been around a bunch of professional well put together women, he could be led astray”.

WTF does that mean? I am sorry but if my husband ever cheated on me because I look like a hag when he comes home from work, there are some larger issues going on. And who doesn’t look hideous after a day of chasing around 2 little kids? And who needs to look fabulous dropping their kid off at school or grocery shopping? Not me!!!!

(Note, this is exactly why I am blogging anonymously. And if my mom ever were to read this, I write this with love mom!)

If it was up to my mother, I would be on What Not To Wear in a heartbeat.

I told my husband this story and he laughed his ass off. The same husband who I have been with since I was 14 years old. The same husband who lives in sweats and a t-shirt unless he is going out. What if I am led astray from the hot professional men when I go to work 3 days a week? All because my husband isn’t “put together” when he’s at home. Shouldn’t he be worried about that?

Ok, I have to admit, I pretty much live in 2 pairs of jeans, yoga pants, some cotton skirts, bright colors hoodies, solid colored fitted t-shirts, and either flip flops or Vans shoes. But hey, I live in a hippy surf town. What can I say? I put on make-up 3 days a week when I go to work. However if my hair doesn’t look good when I wake in the morning, I will wear a hat vs styling it. I have diapers to change and lunches to make.

The other part of me pleading my case and feeling extremely defensive about all this, is that I don’t feel like spending money on myself for clothing. Shopping for clothes is not fun for me. I do it out of necessity. Because, you can only wear clothes for so long. Eventually you will get tired of looking at the same spit up stain, or you can’t hide the holes anymore by tucking them into your pants. And with 2 young children, I enjoy spending the little extra money I have on them. Swim lessons, new underwear, new shoes that fit well, etc. I guess I just feel as though I get more enjoyment out of spending money on them than myself. Someday that will change, I am sure.

OK, to get to my “gay socks”. I have this rockin’ pair of rainbow knee-high socks. I normally only wear them under long skirts or around the house. I call them my “gay pride” socks. I love anything to do with rainbows. I love gay people. I love anything having to do with promoting equal rights for all. And knowing my mother just hates my fashion sense combine with anything supporting gay pride, I decided to wear them when we were together and flaunt them around.

“Look at my gay pride socks, mom. Don’t you love them? I am celebrating diversity!”

Yep, her and I share another thing in common. We are both pros at the art of passive aggression.

Stay tuned for more posts on mommy issues. Oh yeah, we have more to come.