Poopie, Is It Time to Hang-up Your Party Shoes???

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!
Good afternoon, poopies, hope you’re all having a spooktacular day! I know I am.  Poops here is pretty exhausted, but still on kind of a high from such a fantastic weekend. Sometimes you forget how amazing it can feel to step outside your “mommy self” and just hang and be and enjoy life without any worries or responsibilities – even if it’s only for 48 hrs!  You kind of get a glimpse of that fun, party girl you were before children entered the picture. I had the chance to do that this past weekend and it really was amazing.Well, at least I thought so until…
…I woke up Saturday morning and was wondering why my arms were so sore. It wasn’t until later that morning when one of my girlfriend’s pointed out the bruises on the inside of both of my upper arms! I literally looked like I had been man-handled and it wasn’t so funny. Crazy thing about it is that one of my other friends who had been with me the previous night had bruises all over her arms too. What in the world caused us to look like victims of domestic abuse? How in the hell did our arms get so jacked-up? And that’s when it dawned on us: our arms got bruised when we were high-fiving random people downtown from the windows of our “party bus” after our big world series win Friday night! I am thirty-six and I literally had “battle wounds” if you will from the previous evening’s festivities. I didn’t know whether to be proud or mortified! Please see the evidence below so you can get an idea of just how many high-fives we’re talking about and how many times I must’ve banged my arm in the same place!
Party Bus Bruise : (
 
It got me thinking something that, until now, had not occurred to me. I found myself posing the following questions to myself: Poops, is it time to hang-up your party shoes? Is it time to cut back? Are you too old to get bruises from partying too hard? Are your late, night crazy outings over? When is it too old to party? I posed these same questions to my girlfriends the next day and we had quite a thorough conversation about it. In my head, I always imagined that there were two types of moms out there: the ones who hang up their party shoes the minute they find out they’re pregnant  (and never try them on again!) or the ones like me and my girls who still like to rock it out and have a really good time. Of course we do this in moderation and when all of our ‘responsibility bases’ are covered.  Meaning, when our children are left in capable, trusting hands, designated drivers are in place and we have a good reason to celebrate. And of course what better reason to hoop-it-up last Friday night then Game 7 of the world series and Halloween? It was way too fun to pass up! Please don’t get me wrong, I would expect a major intervention and and an extended stay at the Betty Ford Clinic if I was on a party bus bruising myself every single weekend. That would be so so wrong.
Still, we all started talking about what at age is the party officially over…or at least what age do you need to tone it down. In some ways, I feel like I’ve already toned it way down. We really only go out one night per weekend and most of the time it is to dinner with friends or to a movie or to someone’s house for a small, low-key gathering. And half the time our social outings include our kids and we certainly don’t hoop-it-up and party when they’re with us. But, I do have to say, there has also been a shift in me since my kids were born that, when the opportunity presents itself, I have been known to take it up a notch further. I feel like letting loose even more when I’m out on these kinds of occasions because life with kids has brought with it a different level of stress and responsibility, and getting the opportunity to release that tension and pressure every once in awhile feels amazing. This, of course, is also why I exercise, practice yoga, write etc. But a good, drunken night cracking up and dancing with the people you love will also do the trick from time to time. So I started thinking about why that is and the best I can come up with is that I may only have a few good years left to indulge my party self and then things may have to really slow down. This is partly because I’m sure by then I’ll want to (and will be too tired!), but also because it just ain’t pretty seeing a 40 plus something woman with two adolescent daughters coming home after a night out with battle wounds up and down her arms! That just sounds sad and pathetic. 
Maybe some of you are thinking ‘ole poops here is already pathetic. And that’s okay, that’s your right. Though I gotta say, your judgment would disappoint me, since this blog is all about respecting each other and supporting one another unconditionally. I certainly don’t judge the mamas who have already put their party shoes away. I may not agree with it or necessarily understand it, but I accept them and respect their choice. Perhaps I should be toning it down more based on what society dictates as acceptable for what a mother should or shouldn’t do when she’s out with her friends away from her kids, but I gotta tell you, drinking and dancing and laughing my ass off on that bus Friday night felt pretty damn good and pretty damn natural, so my gut kinda wants to tell society that they can’t stick their rules where the sun don’t shine! There’s no way having that much fun can be wrong!
Anyway, as the conversation continued with my friends, we started thinking about our own parents and any memories we have of them partying at this same age. All I could recall was that my parents once took a trip to Vegas with their friends and a few birthday parties they threw at our house where there was definitely booze and even the smell of “wacky tobacky.” But all in all, I never viewed my parents as party people, and by the time they were my age, they seemed older to me than I feel about myself. Or maybe that’s the grand delusion. Maybe that’s what we have to tell ourselves to keep the fun going without the guilt. As the conversation went one, we all agreed on one, fundamental thing: that we are a completely different generation from our parents and that fact alone makes it difficult to draw comparisons. We’re always telling ourselves that “40 is the new 30.” But is it? I certainly didn’t feel too old to be having that kind of fun on Friday night, but to the outside world, to the people not on that bus, is that what they thought?
And as this question lingered in my head, I recalled one of the first blogs I ever posted on Poopie Mommy. It was about how you should remember what you feel passionately about in life and never settle for doing anything less than what inspires you and brings you sheer joy. And to me, this includes not just your work but also your play.  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it over and over again…life is short and precious and unpredictable. Every time you pass up the opportunity to have fun because you’re worried about what other people will think or don’t deem it appropriate at your age, that kind of sends a message to life that you’ve given up a little. And to me, that’s a serious crime! I would hate to look back on my thirties wishing I had hooped-it-up just a little bit more. Regret is a terrible thing and not something I’m willing to live with. So I got some bruises on my arm one night. Big effiin’ deal! Did I have a blast earning them? You bet. Did I really hurt or harm anyone in the process? Absolutely not. Were my kids at home safe with a babysitter we trust? Yep. Do I have incredible memories? For sure. Did the Cardinals win their 11th World Series that night and was I downtown in the thick of the celebration with my friends high-fiving total strangers out the window of a rockin’ party bus? You bet your ass I was. And poops would do it all over again in a heartbeat!
A happy and safe Halloween to all your beautiful poopies out there! May you and your kids be safe and have a great time trick-or-treating tonight!!!

MOMtra of the Day

Good afternoon, my lovely poopies. Sorry, but will be a brief posting today! This is partly because I have a zillion and one things to do before the sitter arrives in a few hours, but also this is mainly because the Momtra needs very little explanation:

“The most wasted of all days is one without laughter.”  -  e e cummings


So this quote is one of my favorites, as it is a simple but awesome reminder of why we’re here, what this life is all about and how we should live it as often as possible. If you haven’t had a good laugh today, poops, I suggest you find a way to do it before your head hits the pillow tonight. Laughing is literally the healthiest thing you can do for yourself on a daily basis. Doesn’t matter what the source…a story your friend told you, something you read in a book or magazine, a video someone sent you on you tube…or even laughing at yourself for something silly you did when no one was looking. And if none of that works, for god’s sakes, go tickle one of your kids! Their unadulterated laughter is the most contagious sound in the world. Nothing makes me crack-up more than a major tickle session…especially when they girls really lose it.  Unless the laughter is it’s at someone else’s expense, there is nothing better!

Life can be very serious and, at times, even overwhelming. We all have problems and challenges and things that might prevent us from bringing more humor into our lives. But, truly, laughter really is the best medicine. And if you allow it, laughter can even be a solution or an antidote to something that may have seemed impossible to fix. As you enter your weekend, do your heart and mind and soul some good….laugh as much as you can!  Try to see the humor and levity in situations that, perhaps, in the past you may not have viewed in that way. Open yourselves up to the possibility that laughing something away may actually work (and add years to your life by the way!) If stress is related to the majority of all diseases, then surely laughter can contribute to the cure!

As E E Cummings so eloquently reminds us, don’t waste another day! I wish you all a weekend full of crack-ups and giggles my beautiful poopies! Let’s go Cardinals! xxoo. 

Poopie, Your Kid Had A "Rough Day"

So I ran into school today a few minutes before carpool got underway because I had to use the bathroom. That’s one of the lovely post-natal symptoms that has yet to go away since my back-to-back deliveries. My bladder will be fine one minute, and moments later I’ll feel like it’s going to burst. Good times. Anyway, I had just been buzzed into the front door and was walking to the adult restroom when I heard a teacher raising her voice sternly saying, “You need to sit right there and not talk or move, D.” Red flag! Red Flag! One thought instantly ran through my mind: there are two kids in her class with the same name…so the odds were 50/50 that she was reprimanding my child. I looked down the hallway and sure enough, there was my 3 year-old daughter sitting in the doorway of her classroom pouting and angry, clearly in some kind of designated “time-out” spot.  The rest of the students were busy putting on their jackets and zipping up their backpacks preparing for carpool while my child remained on the floor stewing with hostility.

Note to all poopies: if you ever encounter this particular scenario unfolding in real time as I did today, WALK AWAY! DO NOT LET YOUR CHILD SEE YOU AND DO NOT INTERFERE!!!!

Oy. Before D saw me, she was definitely pissed, but her anger was contained and the teachers had it under control. I should’ve let her ride out her punishment for the few minutes it lasted and hear about the problem after she was in the car. But my curiosity and my immediate desire to console my daughter got the better of me. I skipped going pee despite my nagging bladder and ran over to her. This did not go well. She started crying and refused to talk and before I knew it, she was backing out of her spot and getting even more worked-up. Of course I inquired about what had happened to bring her to this state, and both of her teachers told me something no mother ever wants to hear about their own child: “D swung her backpack at another kid and threatened to poke another kid’s eye out.” Shit. We’ve had such a nice streak so far in preschool, 4 years in and there hasn’t been anything major to deal with between the two of them. A made it all the way to pre-k without any incident of this sort. I’ve never received a phone call at home about bad behavior and I’ve never had to “sign my kid out” for any kind of physical encounter with another kid. And believe me, I’ve heard of plenty of such incidents from other moms. I guess for awhile there I thought we might get through our entire preschool era with our record untarnished. Wrong.

Today our clean record came to a screeching halt. And then came the words from today’s blog title. Her teacher very kindly and empathetically said to me, “D just had a rough day.” A rough day? A rough day? She’s three and a half, what could be so rough? It breaks my heart just thinking about my little child being so upset that she’s having a rough day. Geez. I though rough days were for grown-ups  in the real world with real problems, but apparently, preschool ain’t so easy all the time either. Her teacher very sweetly reassured me that all the kids in class need to work on their patience and taking turns and that D certainly isn’t always like this. So why today? I thought. Why today? As a parent, I felt this insistent need to investigate, to get to the bottom of things…anything concrete reason I could find to justify my child being the “bad” one in class today.  Finding some tangible reason makes it easier to excuse…makes it less likely that me and Poopie Daddy are somehow to blame, that we aren’t failing somehow in our child-rearing.

I asked the teachers if they had felt her forehead. D sometimes acts-out when she doesn’t feel well. She isn’t good about communicating symptoms when she doesn’t feel good, instead she can just go a little bezerk before we realize that she’s sick. And last night, she did feel alittle warm before bed and actually konked-out earlier than usual. Maybe that was it…she’s coming down with something and her behavior was off because of it. The teachers said she didn’t complain about not feeling well and when I felt her she was a little warm. But, I took her temperature when we got home and she’s totally normal. Soooo, the illness theory won’t fly. What else could’ve possibly prompted my daughter to act so naughtily and even violently at school today? Is it all the repressed aggression she feels because big sis bosses her around so much? Is it anger over the fact the A got so much attention last week because it was her birthday? Is she hostile because she hungry and didn’t eat enough lunch or breakfast? Are Poopie Daddy and I not reinforcing good behavior often enough? Are we not disciplining strictly enough? Have we not led well enough by example? I mean, listen to me poopies, I sound like the biggest a-hole on the planet, don’t I? It’s ok, you can answer in the affirmative. I am literally racking my brain for reasons why my three year-old behaved badly at school today.

And then the a-ha moment arrived…the thing I’d been in denial about since the moment I saw her in that doorway looking so disgruntled. She’s three!!!!! Hello!!! It’s not freaking rocket science. Sometimes despite all your best efforts or explanations, kids just don’t behave. Instead of fixating on one “rough day,” I should realize how lucky I am that we haven’t had more of these bad reports at school and feel fortunate that this was, and will hopefully be, an isolated incident. I have to remember how hard it is being such a small person in this world, trying every single day to learn and develop when things are still new and challenging and difficult to understand. I’m not saying D shouldn’t have known better. Of course she does. We’re often telling the girls that there is never ever an excuse to harm someone physically. We are constantly reinforcing that you should always keep your hands to yourselves and if there is a problem you need to either handle it by talking it out or walk away until you can calm down and be patient when dealing with the situation. Even at 36, I know how hard this can be. Not that I would ever in a million years lay a finger on anyone, but my temper can definitely get the better of me and I’ve found myself yelling plenty of times since becoming a mother. It’s hard to remember to walk away sometimes. Imagine if you’re three…it would definitely be harder, right?

D and I had a long talk after school and she owned-up to her bad behavior and has promised me should would make better choices from here on out and would apologize tomorrow to the two friends whom she hurt. And I could tell how sincere and embarrassed she was because she begged me not to tell Daddy. Tears welled-up in her eyes again when I made her tell him what happened at school. I did this not to make her feel worse, but to reiterate the point that when you make other people feel badly it actually ends-up making you feel even worse – which she definitely does.

What can I tell ya, poops? I guess it pretty much happens to every parent at some point – having the kid who got in trouble at school. It’s actually been really helpful to me to write about it this afternoon. Lord knows I would never ever pretend to be one of those moms who keeps it all inside and refuses to believe that flaws don’t exist within my children or our household in general. I think it’s the flaws that make us more human and teach us how to grow. My aim in starting this blog was always to make you all feel as though you’re not alone – that your kid isn’t the only kid acting out and your mistakes from time to time aren’t just your mistakes either. We’re all doing the best we can and we need to tell each other more often that our best is good enough.

Do I feel bad about how D acted at school? Sure. Do I think her behavior is a reflection of bad parenting on our part? Nope. And I’m not going to beat myself up over this or rake D over the coals either. Sometimes kids are just kids and there’s no rhyme or reason as to why they may have a “rough day.” At this very moment, I can hear D and her sis laughing in the other room trying to give the dog a style make-over (poor guy, they’re trying to get him to wear a ruffled skirt). She is already back to her usual, giggly self and today’s events will hopefully be a distant memory very soon. I’m not diminishing the hurt she caused her fellow students or implying that all should be forgotten, but she should be forgiven and allowed the chance to learn from it and get things right tomorrow. And that’s the last thing I said to D’s teacher when I walked out of school today. Instead of being mortified or profusely apologizing on behalf of my child, I scooped her up while she was crying and I said, “well, there’s always tomorrow.”