Outhouse Excursion

             
I hate public restrooms. I hate them with a passion reserved for only the most horrible things. My hatred for restrooms became more intense after I had children. You never know what you are getting into. Every public restroom presents a new adventure. The worst public restroom experience I ever had was when the kids were toddlers. We were driving down the road in Orlando when my 3 year old declared, "Mommy, I haffa pee-pee." When a 3 year old haffa pee-pee there is no time to waste. Three year olds wait until the last minute to let you know and when they do it's urgent. I pulled off at the next exit and I was in a third world country. It was not a good neighborhood at all. I wanted to tell her to just pee her pants because I was afraid. It was still the middle of the day so I assumed we would be okay. I pulled into a rundown gas station and got the one year old out of her carseat and the three year old is walking in with her hands down her pants - literally trying to hold it in. We walk in and this place was gross. The floor looked like it hadn't been mopped ever. It smelled funny. There was a hotplate by the register with a pizza that looked like it had been there a week. There were flies everywhere. I didn't see a bathroom. I went to the cashier and said, "Do you have a bathroom." He handed me a wood plank with a key attached to it. "Yeah, it's around back." This was going to be bad. I just knew it.

We walked around to the back of the building and I open the door and we went into this bathroom and my fears were realized. This bathroom had been cleaned never. There was a puddle in the corner. There were flies. The toilet was covered in mold. I turned to my three year old who was squirming. "If you pee your pants, I have a change of clothes." "No, mama." Damn it. "Guys, don't touch ANYTHING." I was carrying my one year old and I set her down next to me. "You need to hug my leg and don't let it go," I said sternly. She did what I said. I held my 3 year old over the toilet. It took all the strength I had in my arms to do it but there was no way we were even going near that seat. I wiped her down. She went to flush. "NO - DON"T FLUSH." I yelled. She looked at me scared as did my one year old. "We are not going to wash our hands." I had sanitizer in the car. The sink looked like it had gonorrhea residue in it. I turned to the door and did a karate kick to open it. hahaha. I was not putting my hands near that things. We walked back in and I practically threw the wood plank key holder at the cashier. I could not get out of there fast enough. I got the kids into the car and took a deep breath. I was traumatized. I felt like I needed therapy after that public restroom experience. I shudder just thinking about.

That was the worst restroom experience. Until yesterday. I had a long drive ahead of me and I was really thirsty. I stopped to get gas and picked up 2 large water bottles. As I'm driving along, I am just guzzling this water. I was in the middle of nowhere. There were mountains, cows, farmlands and that was it. At one point I didn't realize what state I was in. I was just following the GPS. Then the water hit me. I had to go - but there was nowhere to go. Every turn I approached I prayed, "Dear God, let there be a bathroom." But there was none. I drove like this for 45 minutes. I thought my kidneys were going to explode. This was surely the end for me. Suddenly - there was this small sign that said "rest area." There was this little shack next to this beautiful river. I was dying, it would have to do. I walked over and I walk in and there are two toilets. Just sitting in this room. No stalls. The door would not lock. I stood there and looked at the 2 toilets and back at the broken lock door and I thought. If someone walks in, I am just going to have to wave to them and say, "Good to see you." There was no other options. I walked over and I realized that there was no plumbing. This was a public outhouse. The could feel the vomit rising. I just did what I had to do but when I did, I felt this really cold intense breeze. Oh.my.god. I'm peeing into the river. I just knew it. A cold breeze like that does not come from a hole in the ground. As I'm feeling this breeze, all I could think about was all of the poop and pee particles being carried up by the breeze and sticking to me. I began to well up. I thought I was going to cry. I ran out of that place. I felt ashamed. I needed to take a shower in bleach and scrub myself.

As I drove away from that harrowing experience, I thought, "I am never drinking Smartwater ever again."

Fluffy Knees

                        
I had to go to the kid's school last week and I am walking down the hall and I spot my little one's teacher. I am looking for her in the line of children and I see these arms waving around. I walk closer and there is my six year old in line, waving her hands and doing a little dance as she walks along. All the other kids were walking calmly with their hands at their sides and no one was acting like her behavior was unusual at all. Which means she does that all the time. I was not surprised.

Before I could get her attention her teacher came up to me and said, "I have a bone to pick with your daughter." I love her teacher and we are very friendly so anything out of the ordinary I hear about. "I was wearing shorts yesterday and she told me I have fluffy knees!" She laughed. I am glad she has a sense of humor. That's by baby. She will tell you what she thinks. She is a truth giver. I said, "Believe me, it could be worse." It could be. That very morning she told me that I have an "outrageously big butt." Those were her exact words. It's not just big, it's outrageously big. That's taking it to a whole other level.

If my daughter tells you the awful truth it means that she loves you and feels comfortable with you. She wouldn't randomly go up to people and tell them they have fluffy needs. She only reserves her truth for friends and family. She reminds me of my youngest sister. She is brutally honest. When my siblings and I were teenagers we would always ask her how we looked. Our parents always said we looked nice and even we did to each other - but my baby sister would pick you apart from head to toe. She would tell you what was wrong with your hair, your shirt made you look pregnant, your feet were smelly. Then we would know and could improve. It's not that she was trying to be mean. She is just objective. She shares her observations. I wish I could be more like that.

Later that night, I had a discussion with my 6 year old about thinking about other people's feelings before we speak. She nodded and said, "But mom, her knees were really fluffy and weird." What am I going to do with this kid? Just love her.

Water Park

My kids had a friend sleepover last Friday night and I wanted to do something fun with them the next day. It was going to be hot so I decided to take them to the water park. We live a mile from this awesome water park and we get season passes every summer. I purchased the passes a month ago but forgot the waterpark was open so it kind of felt like we were going for free.

I told the girls to get ready and get towels and I went to put on my Spanx bathing suit. I hate my Spanx bathingsuit. I feel like I am trying to squeeze my adult body into a child's swimsuit. I was stretching it and pulling it and squeezing into it. By the time I had it on I was out of breath. I thought, I better not drink anything because I am not going to be able to use the bathroom. The only part of my Spanx bathing suit that I like is that it's a swimdress.

                       
No need to shave your bikini line in a Spanx swim dress. It's the ideal bathing suit for a lazy mom. A lazy mom with stretchmarks, cellulite, and saddlebags. Check, check and check. I loaded the kids into the car and off we went.

We went and got our passes and the kids headed straight for the wave pool. I hate the wave pool. It makes me nervous. My kids are excellent swimmers and there are 8 life guards but I still don't like them to get too far from me. My eight year old is like, "Just going to the 6 foot end to get a tube." I watch her like a hawk. I can't enjoy myself in the wave pool. We moved on to the lazy river that is only 4 feet deep so I could relax. We went around and around. My 6 year old declared she had to use the restroom which made me have to pee too and I was cursing my damn Spanx swimdress the whole time we were walking over to the bathrooms because I knew how hard it would be. After I was done fighting my bathing suit, I went to wash my hands and I looked in the mirror and I thought, "I look hot." I don't ever think that. I turned sideways. Something fishy was going on. Was it the Spanx? No, it was not. The mirrors in the bathroom are distorted to make you look slightly longer (and therefore thinner) like the mirrors in a fun house. These water park people are GENIUSES. I wanted to steal those mirrors. I was very amused.

We went to the tree house and I sat in a lounge chair and people watched. The place was filled with parents and their kids and teenagers. The teenagers were in their little bikinis laying out with their friends and eyeing the life guards. I remember those days. Avalon life guards were the hottest. Then there were the parents. The moms in their skirted tankinis (the quintessential mom summer uniform), the dads with their guts just hanging free with their unkempt mane of chest hair out for the world to see. They are chasing a saggy diapered toddler. You have a few of those over achieving parents who look like Brad and Angelina but the majority are the former description. As I sat there in my swim dress watching all the people and I had this realization that most of us parents have given up on life a little bit. I have a little bit. There is something sad and liberating about not having anyone to impress anymore. I do make an effort to look nice for my husband but there is no mystery anymore. The man has seen me in sweatpants on a regular basis, I'm not fooling him with makeup and a push up bra anymore. My bikini days are long behind me. *Sigh*

It was almost time to go but the kids wanted to go down the water slide. It was huge and I was nervous about it. You have to go down on your stomach on this mat. So I am at the top, laying on this stupid mat on my stomach and I couldn't get enough momentum to propel myself forward. I felt like a beached whale. When I finally did get going, I flew down. The bigger you are, the faster you go. I got a gallon of water up my nose. I had enough water park for the day.

As I walked back to the car, I thought about my next big event for the day - figuring out how I was going to squeeze myself out of my Spanx swim dress.

Mother's Day

                            
Today is Mother's Day. The day where even mediocre mothers like me pat ourselves on the back and congratulate ourselves for the long days we spend tending to the needs of our children. It is a day that forces our husbands to pick up the housework and take care of the needs of the kiddos to pay reverence for the fact that we sacrificed our bodies to grow and bear their offspring. That's my favorite part.

I remarked to my husband yesterday that we were going to go out to breakfast for Mother's Day. He said, "Oh, I thought you wanted breakfast in bed." I said, "Well, it's 7 pm and we don't have any breakfast food in the house." "Well, I was going to wake up early in the morning and go get you breakfast." I thought about this for a minute. I wake up super early so not many places would be open. I then tried to get inside my husband's head and I knew what he was thinking. "You are planning to wake up early and get me a McMuffin and serve me a McMuffin in bed, aren't you?" He was completely silent. I laughed. "Seriously, tell me that was not the plan." He shrugged, "McMuffins are good. I don't see the problem with that." I was hysterical, I was laughing so hard. "Honey, I hate McDonald's - but I appreciate the thought." I am not a high class chick by any stretch of the imagination but I do not want McMuffins in bed on Mother's Day unless I wanted McDiarrhea.

My little one had a sleepover last night and I woke up to my 8 year bringing me a cup of coffee and a little white bag. She kissed me and said, "Mom, I got a present for you." I opened it up and pulled out a handmade card, she wrote in perfect cursive, "Roses are red, violets are blue; if mother's were flowers - I'd pick you!" So sweet. I pulled out a small painted candle holder with a heart on it. "There is candy in there too, mom. Will you share it with me?" Of course. She ate the good ones. We got dressed and went to pick up my 6 year old and head to breakfast. She had made me a necklace and an apron with a little worm made out of her fingerprints. It was so cute. I love home made gifts.

We tried to go to Perkins but apparently it went out of business. So we drove to the IHOP. There was a line out the door. "We are not eating here. Let's see what's down this other road." So we are driving down this country road and I KNEW there was nowhere to eat. My husband was not so convinced. So we are driving, and I am starving and my husband is pointing and saying things like, "Bojangles is open." Oh.my.God. After 20 minutes, I was like, "Just go to Dunkin Donuts." I actually hate doughnuts but I was starved and annoyed. We walk in and I am just standing there looking at the menu and my husband could tell  that I was not happy. He turned to me and said, "Look on the bright side, you are in one of the finest doughnut establishments in the country." "Just get me a number 5." I took the kids outside and we sat at a table next to the parking lot. We chatted and my husband brought out our breakfast. I didn't imagine that I would be pulling my Mother's Day breakfast from a brown paper bag. We sat and ate. I asked him how his breakfast sandwich was. "Crispy." He turned it to reveal that it was half burnt. We laughed and laughed. He pulled out a doughnut from the bag. "I got this special one for you." It was a heart with pink frosting and pink heart jimmies. The guy just threw it in the bag all haphazardly and it was smeared and smushed. It looked so sad. It was the most pathetic doughnut we had ever seen. It was a breakfast I will remember always.

We spent the rest of the day relaxing. I hosted dinner for my mother and my sister. The kids played outside. As the kids were getting ready for bed I said to my husband, "I really love being a mom." He said, "You can thank me for that." I smiled, "Oh, really?" "Well, you wouldn't be a mom without me." I nodded, "You're right, I know it was a huge sacrifice for you." He hugged me, "It was a few minutes of really hard work." He is so funny.

We put the kids to bed and they kissed me. "I love you mom. You're the best mom EVER."

I don't know about that. I try really hard. I am not a perfect mother but my children will always know that I believe that they are smart and beautiful and that I will never give up on them. That I will love them no matter what. I hope they realize that they are lucky to be loved like that. I am so incredibly blessed. I have two healthy, beautiful children. They are smart and funny, they are exceptional conversationalists. They are kind and quirky. They give the best hugs and kisses. They are the reason I exist. Mothers do so much. We break up fights, we dry tears, we cook for our children and clean their clothes, we wipe bloody knees and kiss boo-boos, we clean vomit and dirty faces, we help with homework and give encouragement. We do this selflessly with little thanks. Mother's suffer. We watch our children grow and face their own challenges. We carry fear (once you become a mom - every stranger is a potential child predator or serial killer). We worry about whether they will make the right choices. We give them everything and make them our world even though we know that to do our job well means that one day they won't need us. I treasure everyday with my girls - I still have them little. They are my greatest accomplishments.

Growing Pains

                             
On Wednesday night after dinner my 8 year old started complaining of pain in her thighs and joints near her hip. She was riding bikes all afternoon and playing hard, so I didn't really think anything of it. She took a hot shower and went to bed. I wake up to her sobbing at 1 am. She was like, "Mom, my legs hurt so bad." She got up to go to the bathroom and was in pain with every step. I got up and fixed her a cup of cold water and made her take some ibproften. I massaged her legs for an hour. She wasn't in severe pain anymore but was still uncomfortable and couldn't sleep. I was freaked out. She didn't have a fever or any other symptoms besides leg pain. So I did what any other neurotic mom would do and I spent an hour on Web MD. It could be growing pains, MRSA infection, cancer. Your mind goes to dark places in the middle of the night when you have a child you can't help. I told my husband he needed to take her to urgent care in the morning to be checked out. He thought I was overreacting. "It's probably just growing pains. What do you think kids did back in the day?" "They died of bone infections. That's what they did. You're taking her."

I had to work and my husband took her and they said it could be a viral infection or growing pains. They didn't know but they confirmed that she wasn't going to die and that's all that I wanted. They told her to stay home that day and she laid around and rested. She had a show for the chorus that night and if you miss school you are not supposed to go to after school activities. She was so disappointed. I told her that if she was feeling up to it, I would still let her go. She worked so hard and had a solo. I just had to.

When I got home I pulled out her chorus shirt and her khakis. She was getting dressed and she said, "Mom, these khakis don't fit anymore." I just purchased them. They are a size 8. "You grew out of these already?" It was 1 hour and 15 minutes until show time. There wasn't time to get new pants. I told her to give me her pants. I stretched the hell out of the waist of these pants. I had my foot on the back and was pulling them. I just needed them to give enough to button. We got them buttoned. I told her to put her fingers through the belt loops and squat a few times. She looked at me sideways. "Just trust me - I've done this a time or two." She did. "Can you breathe?" She nodded. "Okay - they just need to last for a few hours. You can do it." She has been moving into 10/12 clothes. I just forgot about the khakis. Bad mom award on that one.

She asked me to curl her hair. We went into the bathroom and I started to curl. I had the Les Miserables soundtrack in my head. I began to sing I Dreamed a Dream. My daughter said, "Stop singing. It sounds horrible." Well, excuse me. I played it on the IPad instead and lipsynched. I could see my daughters reflection in the mirror, scowling. "What's wrong?" "You're embarrassing me." It was just the two of us alone in the room and she was embarrassed of me. Wow. "Do you want to listen to RENT instead?" She rolled her eyes, "No." I finished curling her hair and I put on some lip gloss and blush and just a touch of mascara - stage makeup. She arranged her hair and looked in the mirror. She looked so beautiful. "Thanks mom."

We went to the school and I dropped her off in the music room. There was quite a crowd. The kids came out wearing Mickey Mouse ears. They sang all Disney songs. My little one came up and did her solo. I was so proud of her. Then the kids sang "Candle on the Water." That's when the tears came. I am so sentimental. Everything makes me cry. Just watching her up there, looking so grown up, so angelic. I was filled with such pride. She is my dream realized. She did awesome. I gave her a big thumbs up and she gave me a little smile.

Afterwards we went to Barnes and Noble for cheesecake. The kids talked me into buying them books. We got home and my daughter got into the shower. I collected her too-small khakis from the floor and put them in the hand-me-down box. I sighed. We have growing pains, indeed.

The Mommy Wars

I went away for work last week which was a nice break from the routine but hard for me to leave the kids. I had breakfast with this lady who was so funny and delightful. We talked about being working moms and all that comes along with it. We talked about how when our kids were babies we would go to these new mommy support groups. She said, "There should be support groups for moms like us." She is SO right. When I stayed at home with my babies, I really enjoyed it but it can be so hard. I would meet up with other moms and we would go to the park and hang out together and lament about the laundry that needed to get done and how many times the baby woke up in the middle of the night and how if we watched one more episode of the Wiggles we might just lose our minds. We had fellowship and connection. We felt validated in our choices. I need that so much now at this stage in my life (minus the Wiggles).

Shortly before my youngest turned 2, I returned to work full time. It was time for me. I was ready. Being a stay at home mom can be stressful. It's not just the housework, and the crying toddlers and the stress of being a one income family. It can be so isolating. But being a working mom is no walk in the park. No one knows guilt better than a working mom does.The days when you can't get time off and you miss a class party. The lack of time to do basic things like doing the dishes and putting away laundry. Trying to let go of the fact that other moms out there are judging you for working outside of the home (I was one of those moms, yikes!). It's like you can't win no matter what you do. Everyone wants to be a great mom. The mom that all the other moms are envious of. The ones who bake and are at every event and have immaculate houses. I am not one of those moms. I am a good enough mom. I try my best and that's all I can do.

I soooo want to start a moms groups. Moms Of School Age Kids (MOSAK for short). Working moms with kids ages 5-12 hang out in someones dirty house and drink wine and vent and complain about our guilt and our husbands and the kids homework and everything else. We wouldn't judge at MOSAK, we understand that sometimes kids get dry cereal for breakfast, that we sleep in sweatpants and shave our legs very infrequently, that sometimes we ignore the children to get a moment of piece, that the floors may be sticky but the children are mostly happy. That it's okay and that no mom is perfect. If you want to join-let me know.

I am going to go to bed now instead of finishing the dishes, I'll probably feel guilty about it. Just add it to the list.

I'm Too Sexy for My Shirt

                 
My husband never buys clothes for himself. Never. I don't buy clothes for him because when I do he scrunches up his nose and says things like, "That looks horrible, I'm never wearing that." Some husbands let their wives dress them but not him. He likes to wear what he wants and doesn't want input. That's okay with me, I don't have time to shop anyway. I do always encourage him to buy things if needed and he can take my advice or not. Usually not, but I make an effort.

Last week I was in the area of his work and I stopped in to see if he wanted to take a break and have a cup of coffee with me. We don't often get time alone so it was nice. We walked over to Sonic and drank iced coffee. I mentioned casually that he needed new work shirts and he said, "I do need new clothes. Let's go this weekend and you can help me pick stuff out." I thought that he obviously had been abducted by aliens. "Really?" He nodded. I was so excited.

So we went to Marshalls because it is close to the house and we are lazy and don't want to walk through a mall or department store. As we picked out things our girls explored the kids section that was close by. They would come up to us holding dresses and tops and say, "Mom, can we get this?" "No, we are shopping for dad." They pouted. "Why does dad get everything and we get nothing?" I rolled my eyes, "Because he owns 3 shirts and you own 50." They really do. They have so many clothes that sometimes I find clothes in their closet that I forgot existed.

So we get the clothes and we walk over to the dressing room. The lady who was working the dressing room was not the friendliest. My husband said, "I have 10 items." She recounted everything and handed him a little number tag. Then she sat down in front of a desk and scowled. I was looking at her and she reminded me of something and I couldn't put my finger on it. Then I figured it out. She looked like a bloodhound. She had these big saggy checks and looked really sullen.
                                            
I am not trying to be mean and I'm not saying she was ugly. She just had bloodhound-like features is all.

The dressing room was right behind the shoe section and while my husband tried on his clothes the kids tried on shoes. They tried on every single pair of shoe that was on display. They would put on one pair and model them and then run off for the next pair. The bloodhound lady watched them and appeared annoyed. I didn't care. We were spending money in there, the kids weren't making a mess, and they actually weren't annoying me so I did not mind them sampling every pair of shoe at all.

My husband would emerge periodically from the dressing room and let me say "yea" or "nea". He looked so handsome. The kids were like, "You look so nice, daddy." Finally we were ready to go. The kids asked for shoes, of course. I didn't give in. I did buy gummy worms for us to share instead. Red and clear gummy worms = heaven. It was a good day.