Swimming, Jr Life Guards, soccer, music, theater, oh my! When extra curricular activities rule (or ruin) your life.

When my daughter was as young as 6 months old, I had her in swim classes and a community play group. When she was 1, she was in a baby sign language play class and swimming. When she was 2, she was in tumbling and swimming. Then all the while during her preschool days, we religiously went to a weekly mommy and me music class. She also did dance class and gymnastics. Phew! Once we hit preschool, we were a part of a co-op where I worked in the class once a week.

We had time back then. I only worked 20 hours a week the first year of her life. And that is with only going into the office for 3 hours a week. I worked fulltime after she was a year old, but only 2-3 days a week in the office. With her being my only child, it was easy to fit in all these extra activities. And frankly I loved it. It was fun and a great way to get both of us out of the house.

But now I have 2 kids. Not only do I have 2 kids, but my daughter is in kindergarten everyday, where I work in the class once every other week. Now you would think I would have more time with her in Kindergarten every day and working less in the class than I did when she was in preschool. But somehow it doesn’t work that way. Kindergarten is only 3.5 hours long. In that time, I grocery shop, clean house, play with the baby, get the baby to bed, and hope for 2 hours of work time before having to pick her up from school.

We have only 1 extra curricular activity at the moment, and that is swim class twice a week. So from 4:00-5:00, we are walking to the pool, she is in swim class while the baby is in the gym childcare, and I am lucky if I can swim laps for 20 min. We have been doing this routine Tues/Thurs for 5 months now. And I am pooped!!!! This week, the swim school is on vacation from the holiday. Tuesday afternoon, we played in the backyard, I cleaned the kitchen, watered the yard, slowly made dinner, watched some TV, played in my daughter’s room with her, and maybe even watched a cloud pass by. My husband came home to a calm and mellow wife. Not some spastic crazy ball of fury, trying to rush to get everything done, the kids in bed, and on the couch with my laptop working by 8:00 pm. It was heaven!!! And it made me realize, that I need a break from having to be somewhere, at the same time, twice a week, every week.

Soccer is next, coming August!

However, our little break will be short lived. School is getting out for summer in a couple of weeks, and the extra curricular activity cycle starts all over again. Jr Life Guards gets started, then soccer in August. Holy Shit!!! At least in July, we should have a little break.

There is a part of me that feels as though our children benefit from having free time. Where they can play, make up games, dig in the dirt, have alone time to explore, etc. I totally agree! I kept my daughter so busy when she was a toddler and preschooler, where she can barely play by herself these days. She has a very short attention span for playing on her own, and I blame being all up in her ass for the first years of her life.

OMG! She needs music classes now, or she will miss her window of opportunity to learn an instrument. (sarcastic tone)

There is another part of me that wants to sign my daughter up for every single extra curricular activity she shows any interest in. This way it gives her exposure to all the killer genres of hobbies available. I already know, she isn’t into gymnastics. And even though she loves to dance, she really isn’t into dance class much. I think she would love theater, and would love to get her into a theater class some day. I also would love for her to learn how to play an instrument and maybe the baseball team. Holy Shit! You would think I wouldn’t be so anal about all this, but I can’t control myself. It is like a sick disease or something. She has so much life ahead of her. Why do I need to push her to try activities that she may not have any interest in. When she hits 4th grade, she can play in the school band if she wants. They also offer a drama group at school. There is no need for me to pay money for a class across town.

Then there is my little sweet baby boy. He is 20 months old and has not taken one class in his cute little life. No swim class, no music or baby babble classes. And you know what? He is the most content little boy ever. He can sit and play on his own for hours. Ok, maybe to say hours is a bit of an overkill. But he can play on his own for at least 30 minutes. In baby time, that is like forever.

I do plan on putting him in swim lessons or maybe a mommy and me music class in the fall. But my daughter will be in 1st grade until 3:15, so it will be so much easier to manage one child’s activities at a time.

I think in the end, I need to stick with my goal of 1 extra curricular activities at a time per kid. And have periods of a break between activities to stop and smell the roses, or in this case, stop and smell the dirty dishes in the sink. We need to find a balance where myself and the kids can be home with free play, as well as hauling their asses around town for games, classes, etc. If someone has the magic cure all solution for this, please share!

I need a swagger wagon, just to haul them around to all these activities.

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When blogging becomes a chore

Blogging or sleep. These days it is a hard decision

Blogging or sleep. These days it is a hard decision

I love blogging. LOVE IT. I am not a writer, but I am a mommy. And blogging has been a way for me to unleash all my mommy drama and daily journalling. I have only been blogging for about 3 months. But quickly I have become addicted  I had plenty to write about. And somehow found the time to blog 2 days a week. That is 3 times a week, with working every night with my day job, working 3 days a week in the office, working in the classroom for my daughters kinder class, and being a fulltime mom and fulltime housewife. Basically instead of crashing on the couch, watching reruns of Rosanne at 8:00 pm, I was writing in my blog. I always said if it stopped being fun, I would stop blogging.

And then something happened. People started reading my posts. I was getting comments. And I was I was seeing an increase in blog stats. Super fun, right? Super addicting, right? Well, now my blog has topped off and really requires more work on my part to get it to the next level. In reading about how to increase your blogging community, you have some work to do. You need to comment on other blogs. You need to Tweet, Facebook, join other mommy communities. Basically get out there and be apart of others communities. I love the idea. But I feel like with the limited time I have, it is so hard to write posts, and get my foot in the door in other mommy blogger communities. Blogging can seriously become a fulltime job. A fulltime, unpaid job.

So needless to say… the honeymoon period is over. Obviously there is no way I will become a famous blogger like “The Bloggess” overnight… if ever. And I want to continue blogging. But I feel like I need to get over this hump. It is like when you lose 10 pounds, but you have 30 pounds to go, yet the scale will not move past pound 11. “This one goes to 11” (if you don’t recall, that is from Spinal Tap).

So as a new mantra to myself, I need to remind myself of the following:

  • Blogging is about having fun
  • Stats do not matter
  • Sometimes you will have nothing to write about, and that is ok
  • The world will not end if you don’t blog tonight
  • If no one reads your posts, it is ok
  • You should read, comment, and follow others blogs because you enjoy reading what they are writing, not just to expect a follow or comment back. That’s bad karma.
  • Out of all the perverts that read your blog because they think
    “Poop On Your Hands” means something kinky, there is probably at least a couple people who are reading your blog because they are fellow mommies with the same mommy issues you have.
  • And once again, blogging is about having fun!

Ok, now that I have gotten all that off my chest, I have a great idea for Wednesday post! But for now, time for sleep!

Everyone Poops

Women can't handle pooping at work.

Women can’t handle pooping at work.

I love the book Everyone Poops. Kids get it, why don’t adult women? We all poop. Obviously it is much more pleasant to take care of business in the comforts of your own home. However sometimes when the feeling arises, you may need to “leave the kids at the pool”, or should I say, at work.  However, us women at the workplace are very finicky about pooping at work. We have an unspoken etiquette to abide by when doing our do-do at the workplace.

Today I walked into the office bathroom, only to find a small, typed note taped above the light switch saying, “Please leave the fan on, if air quality is LESS than optimal”. In other words, “if you took a shit, and it stinks, leave the fan on, so nobody else has to suffer.”

This got me thinking about all the awkward gestures we take when taking a crap at work.

Stall Selection
At our office facilities, we have two stalls in the women’s bathroom. A handicap stall and a smaller stall. When you needs to go #2, you always use the larger stall. Mainly because you can’t peek-a-boo under the wall and see who’s feet are next to you, when peeing in the smaller stall. And when you’re pooping, it is nice to know that the other potty goer can’t see that it is you stinking up the bathroom. It is such a well known fact that everyone uses the larger stall when pooping, the can of Lycol permanently has a home there.

The Stand Off
The worst is when you’re in the bathroom alone, doing your business, and along comes someone else strolling into the bathroom and parks themselves in the smaller stall next to you. You think to yourself, “ok… they’re just going to take a quick pee and be on their way. I can hold it until they leave, and then continue on my business. If it becomes an emergency, I can fart when they flush, so they can’t hear”. 

You wait, and wait, and wait. And then it becomes apparent that they are pooping too! What the hell? Don’t they know you’re next door? Maybe they didn’t hear you. So then you shift a little on the toilet or wrestle the toilet paper around, politely letting her know that you were there first and waiting for them to leave. But they don’t leave….

Now you have two options. First, just wait it out. If they’re adamant about wrapping it up before you, you can just hang out. Maybe check Twitter, read the back of the baby powder bottle (yes, someone in our office has brought their own baby powder bottle, and it lives in the big stall), or just twiddle your thumbs. Or second, you can go for it, do your business, flush, wash hands super quick, and run out of the bathroom before she even knows it was you who was “letting one go” next to her.

Farting
My husband and I always debate about farting in the office. His thought is that if you have fart at work, do it! Crop dust if you have to. Are you kidding me? Maybe it works for his silent but deadly farts. But my farts are rippers. I could never fart at work. But when you are in the bathroom, sometimes one needs to slip out. When this happens, I try and do it discretely. For example, if there is someone in the stall next to me and I feel a fart coming, I will cough at the same time as I fart. Hoping that the cough will drown out the fart. Try it next time, it works. Or at least I hope it does…

The Fake Poop. Or Bathroom Nap
I did this more when I was pregnant, but will still use this trick when I am especially tired from a long night with the baby. I will take a 10 minute cat nap in the large bathroom stall. If anyone is wondering where I am, they can just assume I am “using the facilities”. But I will sit on the toilet, put my head in my lap, and doze off for 5-10 minutes. Usually I will only do this is there is no one else in the bathroom. It just sucks when you are suddenly startled by another woman entering the bathroom. But it works for a “quicky”.

There are so many other pooping tips and quirky stories I could write about. I’m sure this will be the first of multiple poop posts. I guess with 2 kids, one of which who is still in diapers,  and the other who freely talk about her poop, I feel pretty comfortable with the subject. I mean, shit, everyone poops!

 

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.

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.

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.