Thursday, July 29, 2010

Please Don't Drop Your "Kids" At The Pool

We got a pool this year. It was money well spent, but it does make my OCD act up from time to time. I've been stressing over how to keep the water clean. When we first set it up I think I went out and spent more money on chemicals to put in it than I did on the pool itself. Once it was full I started adding all these things to the water as if I was making some sort of elaborate soup. A little of this, a dash of that, mixing it like a witches brew with the skimmer. The end result...cloudy water. WTF? It was now my life's mission to clean it up. I spent weeks trying to figure out what the hell I was doing wrong...and buying more chemicals to put in it. My numerous failed attempts were really starting to piss me off. Sure, we could still use it, but all the cool little games we had for the kids weren't much fun. Dive sticks would disappear just inches from the surface and then it became a sort of Marco Polo type game (minus the audio clues) blindly searching for them at the bottom with our feet. My youngest can't touch the bottom so he couldn't even "play". Goggles were also useless. Finally, I drained the stupid thing and filled it again. It was such a relief to see the bottom again. It was also good to know where my son's missing shoe had been.

Now on to the real issue I have with the pool...sanitation. I obsess over what may be in the water. Kids are terribly unclean little people. Especially boys. My days are spent wiping various things from every orifice. They get more food on their face and clothes than in their stomach and I've discussed numerous times their lack of ability to wipe their butts. This leads to a lot of anxiety when it comes to my now pristine water. I've replaced the little bucket at the bottom of the ladder, with a bucket the size of a small kiddie pool. Before they are allowed to go in the pool I require them to sit in it and wash everything. I then proceed to do a butt check to ensure they do not have skid marks in their suits that could compromise my water. Once all the proper precautions have been taken, they are allowed entry. My issue now is other children. I would love to enforce all my checks on other kids...however the law prohibits it. I have to believe that my kids are not the only ones that lack the ability to thoroughly clean their asses. Heck, I know there are adults who probably don't do a bang up job of it. I love to have other kids over to swim but it makes me a little anxious. I have visions of finding a "floater" in the pool like in the movie Caddyshack (hopefully it too will be a Baby Ruth). Then I throw out constant reminders to them that they cannot pee in the pool. I've also tried to scare them into thinking that I have that chemical in there that will create a giant blue cloud around the kid that pees. I find it ironic that after all these years of talking about it there still isn't one...yet there are fifty other chemicals I am made to believe I should add to the water. Aside from chlorine that is something I would definitely add on a daily basis. I am certain they have already tested this mystery chemical and know that I am a bullshit artist. Then there are all the times they dive under and emerge with a giant snot hanging from their nose. I'm gagging just thinking about what ends up in there.

Regardless of what is in the water I'm pretty sure I've got down to a science how to kill it. Skim, shock, chlorine, repeat. I'd like to think that my water is clean enough to drink, in the way that people say their floors are clean enough to eat off of. Now, let me also discuss another saying...the term "dropping the kids off at the pool". Those of you who are unfamiliar with this term, it's another way of saying you are going to take a shit. That being said, let me invite anyone in need of a refreshing escape from the hot summer sun to the pool for a dip. Come on in...the water is fine, but please don't "drop your kids off"...

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Pluck Off

I'm having grooming issues. Not hygiene issues, grooming issues. I do shower. Although, what was once an everyday occurrence of showering is now an every other day night...when the kids are asleep. I try occasionally to shower during the day but unless the kids are tied up engrossed in something on television they tend to get themselves in trouble. Case in point, my last "day shower" afforded my children some time to create a hockey rink by spraying my hardwood floor with sunscreen and sliding around on it in their socks. Creative, I know, but I still can't walk over that spot without almost breaking my neck...all due to my five minute shower faux pas.

Back to the topic at hand...grooming. I have eyebrows that are out of control. I say "eyebrows" as if I have two, however this is not the case. If I could give you a visual it's as if a furry caterpillar has crawled above my eyes and made itself at home. Sexy, I know. Waxing is out at the moment since the kids are home for the summer and I would rather shave my eyebrows off than take them with me to the salon. I can't pluck them for the same reason I can't shower during the day. I realize this is something I could do when they go to bed, but I prefer to use that time to try and relax. Ripping hair that is millimeters from my eyeballs is not something I would consider relaxing. Just the thought of it makes me tear up a little. Who decided that the grooming of eyebrows was to be our cultural norm anyway? Surely it was a man. Why don't they have to do it? I mean, besides for Metro Sexuals? I'm glad my husband doesn't bother with his because I would be pissed if his looked better than mine. I will eventually succumb to the pressures of society and tidy them up...just before the next girl's night out. Gotta look good for the ladies.

The other area where grooming has gone by the wayside, is in maintaining these fricken gray hairs that seem to multiply on an hourly basis. Those of you with blond hair can firmly plant a wet, juicy kiss on my right ass cheek. I'm not jealous of blonds in general...although I would love to have "blond moments" to blame for some of the stupid shit that I do. I just find it a little unfair that gray hairs on a blond are not as noticeable as on someone with black hair, like myself. When I get a gray it stands out like a white guy in a rap contest. My solution? Pluck them. That's right people, I pluck the shit out of those little wiry suckers. The idea that five more will grow in it's place is total bullshit. I mean, it's not like a bunch grow in where I pluck...wait a minute...son of a bitch! I'm going to be either bald or completely gray if I don't stop!!

I guess I will have to settle for the alternative...dyeing it myself. Again, the salon is out. I'll go out and buy one of those dye kits for a couple of bucks. I'm not sure why I feel like I will save money using these things. I have ruined every t-shirt I addition to shower curtains, bath rugs, towels and, on one occasion, a light fixture. Who knew black dye would take on frosted glass. This chick does now. You would think by now I would know enough to designate a shirt to use when I dye my hair...or to throw a tarp down in the bathroom. I'll just chalk it up to a "blond moment". That's right all you blond bitches, I'm stealing it anyway. Oops! Sorry about that outburst...I must be wearing my "bitter pants" today.

So again my hubby makes out like a bandit. No eyebrow grooming or gray concealing, on top of not having to push giant baby heads from his privates (bitter pants talking again). In fact, he looks pretty sexy with his sprinkling of gray hair. Funny, a man grays and looks "distinguished". A woman grays and may not look it but certainly feels "old baggish". I guess I'll have to distract my husband from my unibrow and graying hair with some mind-blowing sex. Then again, that would lead to additional grooming that I would rather not discuss here...

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Operation: Vacation

Ahh yes, family vacation time. Time to relax...well, for everyone but mommy. Of course there were times during vacation when I could sit back and relax (like when the kids were sleeping), but for the most part it wasn't much different from being at home for me. I find it funny that it takes me forever to pack for a trip that is within my state (the smallest state in the US mind you). Every year we spend a week with my father-in-law at his house on the beach. I usually take my time over a couple of days to pack things but lately we've been leaving the day after our 4th of July block party. I spent so much time preparing for said party, that I couldn't pack. Then the day we were to leave I had to clean and pack at the same time. I am usually an excellent multi-tasker, however I may have had a little too much fun at the party because it felt like a drummer was performing a solo in my head all day. Plus it was 90 degrees and humid. In hind sight that was probably a good thing since it helped me sweat out some of the alcohol. Anywho...we left a lot later than I had planned and ended up arriving at the beach house at 8pm.

The first thing I did was stop to get food for the kids to eat on the ride down since I was going to have to unpack all the stuff I just packed and I didn't want to add cooking to my "to do" list. Once we were all settled in I decided I should probably eat something. I grabbed some leftovers from the party that were in a tupperware and threw it in the microwave. Just as I sat down to eat it my oldest son looked at me and said "I think I am going to be sick". I jumped up, grabbed him, and ran with him to the bathroom. We made it just in time. I stood there with one arm wrapped around his chest, squaring him with the toilet, tupperware in the other hand, while he threw up. Now, before I had kids the sight of someone vomiting would make me sick too. But now, it's just another day as a mom. When he finished, I brought him to a recliner, covered him and he fell asleep. Had this happened earlier in my journey through mommy hood, it may have warranted a trip to the ER. I once called 911 for a high fever only to be rushed, by ambulance, to the hospital where they administered Tylenol and sent us home. Live and learn, I guess.

With one son settled in for the night, I sat down and tried to finish (or actually start) eating my food. Again, in the past I would never have been able to eat after watching a projectile vomiting episode. Now that's just for amateurs. As soon as I raised the fork to my mouth my youngest yelled from the bathroom "Mom! I need help! Oh shit, he's throwing up too. I set my food down this time and headed for the bathroom. When I opened the door I found him bent over, ass in the air. "Wipe my butt, I pooped". Super. By the way, this wasn't going to stop me from eating either.

The rest of the week was quite enjoyable. We spent hours on the beach swimming, and playing in the sand. There weren't anymore vomiting episodes, although I did occasionally assume the role of "ass wiper". I'm sure my hubby enjoyed himself too. There was no shortage of scantly clad, hot bodied ladies bouncing around in the waves. The surf was pretty rough and I'm sure he witnessed the occasional "nip slip". Oh kind of reminded me of that commercial for Corona, when the girl squirts lime juice in her man's eyes for ogling the women. The only difference is if I had a lime I may have squirted it in my own eyes. They were making me ill. Weird...this was something that could cause me to vomit. I missed by pre-baby body and the ability to wear a bikini.

For every bikini body on the beach, there were five that should not have been wearing bikinis...but they were anyway. By mid week I thought...Screw it, I have a bikini and I'm going to wear it. Well technically it's a bikini top, and a skirted bottom...or what I like to refer to as the "Momkini". I probably should have thought that through a bit more. My stomach hadn't seen the light of day in quite some time. Even with sunscreen my mid section got torched. Let me add that I NEVER burn. I have very dark skin (everywhere that gets exposed to the sun on a regular basis). I don't know how people with fair skin do it. I can't remember the last time I was in so much pain (aside from the day after the party). It was still bright red three days later. Needless to say, it will be years before I expose it again, if ever. It also was not a good idea to wear that top in the heavy surf. I was guilty of numerous "nip slips" myself. Another reason to retire the "Momkini" on the family vacation.

While we were there we were able to have a date night. We hit a little bar near the beach and it was packed. There was a large group celebrating someones 21st birthday. I felt really old. I just wanted to have a few beers and play some pool and these "kids" were hogging all the tables. They were also obnoxiously drunk and screaming the lyrics to every song. I thought...Wow, did we look like that when we were their age? Then I realised that we look like them now when we go out with our friends. The bartender informed us that the beer we were drinking was only $5 for a pitcher. Why not...we could handle a couple of pitchers. Finally, a table opened up and we went over to start playing. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that a group of youngins kept looking at me and talking amongst themselves. At first I thought maybe I was just being paranoid, but after a few more drinks I started to get pissed off. What the hell are they looking at? Just let one of those little bitches say something to me (Obviously, beer balls were in full effect). When my husband went to get us another pitcher, one of them started walking toward me while the others looked on. Oh, here we go...I'm too old for this shit. She walked up and said " I love your shirt, it's such a pretty color and it makes you look so tan!" Whew... "Oh, thank you honey" I replied. "I got it at Target for $10". They were young but I'm sure they were well aware of the unspoken rule of revealing the location of purchase as well as the price whenever complimented. Now at ease, I could drink and play a few more games. We had a great time. On the way back to the beach house we talked about taking a walk down to the beach. However, when I walked in I settled into a recliner and passed out. I have now added draft beer to my date night nemesis...Taco Bell.

Overall, we had a great time. The kids also learned some very valuable lessons. For example, beer goes in the blue cooler (B in B). Also, there is no distracting mommy and daddy while we are mini golfing. Little do they know we have naughty "wages" set in place for the winner. One day they may read this and realize why it was such serious business...then they will probably vomit.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Welcome To My Life

Whenever I talk to another parent I find myself saying this phrase all the time; "Welcome to my life". The common theme in these conversations tends to be how simple life used to be before children, yet we didn't realize at the time how good we had it. Now that my kids are home for the summer I really get to see how difficult the simplest tasks have become. Don't get me wrong, I love spending time with them. But it is amusing to me that my days are filled with trying to answer questions like: "Mommy, how do chicks get in the egg shells without cracking them?" or "How come it makes a bubble when I fart in the tub?" They are funny little guys filled with curiosity and I love them to death, but I can't help but reminisce about the days when the little things in life weren't such a chore. Here are some examples:

Using the telephone

Then: Pick up the phone, dial, talk, hang up. Simple.

Now: Pick up the phone, dial and start fielding an on slot of questions that can't possible wait until I am off the phone. "Mommy, mommy...ANSWER ME MOMMY" It's like they have some sort of sixth sense when it comes to my needing to make a phone call. No matter where they are or what they are doing they come running as soon as I dial and are not satisfied until I have asked the person I am speaking with to hold on for a second so I can beat them tell them to shut it through painfully clenched teeth. Wow, using the phone used to be so easy...

Using the bathroom

Then: Well this was never at any point in my life considered a luxury before now. Whenever I needed to go I went. Simple.

Now: Whenever I have to go to the bathroom I try to sneak away without getting caught. It never works. As soon as I close the door and sit down (if I make it that far) the knocking starts...."Mommy, what are you doing?"..."I'm using the bathroom"..."No, I mean are you pooping or peeing?"... "Never mind buddy, just let mommy have some private time". Apparently that translates to open the door and join me. I know what you're thinking, just lock the door, right? Well I would but unfortunately they both know how to pop the lock from the outside so it doesn't matter. Now here I am, sitting on the toilet with an audience. "So are you pooping or peeing?"... "Peeing, OK"..."Oh, how come you have to sit down to pee?"..."Well mommy can't stand up like you"..."Oh, did your pee-pee fall off?"..."No, just please leave so mommy can finish". Wow, using the bathroom used to be so easy...

Going to the store

Then: Walk in, leisurely browse, find what I need, pay, leave. Simple.

Now: Just knowing that I have to take them both in a store gives me heartburn. Every store has so many distractions for them that I feel like I am herding cattle all the way through. It seems like everything I need to get is at the back of the store and we have to walk thorough aisles filled with things they feel we need to have. "Hey mom, look at these light bulbs...we need light bulbs right?"..."No, now put that down and keep walking please."..."But look, there are some paint brushes over here...we need some right?"..."No, I just need one thing and I know where it is, please keep moving"..."But look, they have trash we need.." "NO...KEEP WALKING SO I CAN GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" Then of course I get all the shocked looks from people passing by. I'm sure they are thinking that I need to have more patience. That's fine because I am thinking they should mind their own fucking business. Let me add that the person that decided to put all the snacks and little toys at the check out counter should be shot. Sure I can use them as a bribe to get them to behave. "If your good, you pick something at the check out". But lets face it, even if they haven't been good, I'll probably end up buying something for them anyway just to avoid the full blown tantrum that will ensue if I refuse. Wow, going to the store used to be so easy...

Going to the beach

Then: Roll out of bed around 10:00am, decide I should go the the beach, grab a towel, stop for an iced coffee, get on the beach, read Cosmo from cover to cover, flip, pass out for a few hours, go home. Simple.

Now: Packing must start the night before. This will include enough snacks to feed a small village, 20 juice boxes, a thousand toys, pails, shovels, and trucks, 4 types of sunscreen, an umbrella, and a chair for me that I probably won't get to sit in. An alarm has to be set to get up early and pack the cooler, car, and to slather them from head to toe in sunscreen. I also need to set aside some time to make them sit on the toilet and try to poop because if they have to go when we get there it will be a nightmare (I have never needed to worry about another person's bodily functions before now, I might add). We are on the road by 7:30am (I can't possibly sit in beach traffic with 2 kids and no AC). The day is spent stressing over them going too deep in the water, or getting knocked down by a wave. I have to reapply sunscreen every hour on the hour to avoid any burns. They eat constantly and fight with any child that attempts to touch their toys.  After all this "fun" I have to hose them off before putting them in my car because they have sand in every crevice of their body. Wow, going to the beach used to be so easy...

Even blogging has changed since my kids are out of school. I used to be able to write a little here and there while they were at school. Now, as soon as I get on the computer they are crawling all over me; "Whatcha doin?"..."Can you go to Nick Jr.?"..."Where is the letter S". I guess it's better than trying to blog while they are "busy". This usually means they are writing on something they shouldn't be, filling water balloons and dumping water all over my bathroom floor, or peeing in the tub instead of using the toilet. blogs may have to be shortened versions throughout the summer just to avoid disaster. Wait a minute...Shit! I have to go...they are somewhere being quiet!!