This is the true story about how I joined a playgroup and got kicked out on the same day.
All my working life I envied 'stay at home moms'. Anything with "stay at home" in the job title has got to be awesome. Right? Cue all the stay at home moms screaming "NO!" A few weeks ago I got a taste of how that job title is not all it's cracked up to be.
I had some friends/family staying at my house for the weekend, one of which was a miniature person. She was 3 and we were instant-a-friends. On the last day of the trip she and I went on a walk. It was a gorgeous monday and since I am basically unemployed I wanted to experience what people do during the day when they're not stuck in an office. (I mean, seriously, did you guys know that the sun shines ALL DAY?) I had no destination in mind but 1 mile and 20 minutes later we ended up at the park in my neighborhood. Perfect.
I saw 3 moms sitting on the grass chit-chatting and watching their kids play. I didn't take much notice of them until they said they recognized me from church. My bad. I totally didn't recognize any of them. But I did recognize their kids, probably because kids in church are still a novelty to me. Anyway, I got to know them a bit then turned my attention back to the playground to get in some time on the slide and in the sand. As my friend the Black Widow noted, "So, you joined a playgroup... as one of the kids?" Apparently! While the "other moms" were talking amongst themselves I was on the slide with my 3 yr old and their 3 yr olds making a train over and over and over. Oh, we were having a great time.
Suddenly, there was a problem. My miniature friend looked at me with panic in her eyes and exclaimed, "I have to go potty!" Unfortunately, there were no bathrooms at the park. Being prepared for a moment like this did not occur to me before we left the house. Call me self centered.
I asked the moms in vain if there was a bathroom nearby. Graciously one of them offered to let us go to her house across the street to use her facilities. They started packing up but, I soon realized that would not do. My dear, miniature, panicked friend had waited until the last possible moment to inform me that she was fixin' to talk to a man about a horse and there would be no walking across the street to do so. The panic spread from her eyes to mine as I looked to the moms for some guidance.
"We make our boys go in the rocks" they said. Hold up. My minifriend is a girl. She ain't skilled in the squatting if you know what I mean. By the time I got my wits about me minifriend had already started the accident in her pants and added tears for effect. I whisked her to the rocks, yanked down her pants and sat her over my arm so she could finish her business. When I thought the piddle had petered out I asked her if she was finished. She looked at me with a blank look in her eyes which I had no idea how to interpret. At least the crying had stopped. I asked her again. No response. And then... she dropped the deuce. Oh yeah. She went #2 right there in the rocks while I held my arm out for her to sit on.
Do you know what you do when you have a kid go #1 and #2 in the rocks while sitting on your arm? You pray there is a mother standing there with her magical diaper bag full of tricks. It was now me with the blank look in my eyes as I turned to my new mom friends with no clue what to do next. There they were with babywipes and a plastic garbage bag for me to clean up the mess. Thank th'goodness. Once minifriend was taken care of (and smiling and happy again with no consideration for the trauma I was now going through) I took the plastic bag and picked up the poop.
People. Do you know the main reason why I don't have a dog? I don't have a dog because picking up dog poop makes me dry heave. It's disgusting. Let me tell you, picking up child poop in the same manner? Not. Any. Better. But, I did it.
I now considered the mile long return walk home and the chaffing that would occur on that poor girl if I didn't carry her and the pee soaked pants she was wearing that would get all over me if I did carry her. Umm... But, there they were again, my new mom friends offering me a ride home. Again, thank th'goodness. I didn't want to get pee all over the mom's seat so I made minifriend sit on my lap on the way home thus saturating my clothes with pee anyway. But, we were home and I could pass her off to her parent to clean up the rest of the mess.
As we walked in the door she exclaimed with a smile, "I peed in the park!" as if it were her greatest accomplishment. We were both proud of ourselves. She peed in the park and I didn't sell her to the gypsy family down the street for putting me through the trauma of dealing with it.
So, while the moms haven't called me to invite me back to playgroup (understandably) I can take heart knowing that I taught my miniature friend one of the most valuable skills she will ever need in life: how to squat in nature.
The end.
24 February 2009
31 FOR 31
I'm almost 2 months late posting this so I'd better get on it. I hereby present you my list of 31 things I will do at the age of 31 (seriously, I can't believe I'm now "in my thirties").
*denotes unaccomplished repeats from 30 for 30
- go to the Grand Canyon
- ride a horse*
- take photos in a photobooth*
- read the Book of Mormon in french*
- read 20 books
- run 500 miles
- run a marathon
- photograph an entire wedding
- go geocaching outside of Las Vegas
- buy art
- frame my own photography
- ride my bike to church
- go to DC
- pay off credit cards
- take swimming lessons
- go skinny dipping*
- go to an amusement park
- find a (photography) mentor
- research organic foods
- have a spa day*
- go to a demolition derby
- attend First Friday
- share a Book of Mormon with someone
- read the entire Harry Potter series again
- go hiking in the Valley of Fire
- make a quilt
- play the piano in Sacrament Mtg (special musical number)
- donate money to a worthy cause
- compile a book (a la David Sedaris)
- lose 31lbs
- get married* (I'll just keep this one on the list for good measure until it finally happens)
*denotes unaccomplished repeats from 30 for 30
11 February 2009
30 for 30: recap ammendment
- confess to a crush - retro check! I think it went very well. I didn't confess to my girl crush. I confessed to a boy. A real boy. I think he already knew ;)
09 February 2009
30 for 30: Recap
I can say without hesitation that 30 was seriously one of the best years of my life. Nothing huge or overwhelming happened. It was the best because I felt happy for the entire year (which was a huge relief from kind of crappy years 27, 28 & 29). Just REALLY happy.
Alas, 30 couldn't last forever, which is just really unfortunate... but then again, maybe I'll just lie about my age and 30 really CAN stay forever! Anyway, here's a recap of the 30 things I planned to do this year.
30 for 30
Alas, 30 couldn't last forever, which is just really unfortunate... but then again, maybe I'll just lie about my age and 30 really CAN stay forever! Anyway, here's a recap of the 30 things I planned to do this year.
30 for 30
- run a half marathon - Check! In fact, I ran 3 of them (Moab, SLC & Hobble Creek) and LOVED each one. The half is now my favorite distance and I will continue to run several each year.
- take a continuing education class - Check! I took a beginning photography class at CSN. I did not expect to fall in love with it as much as I did, nor did I expect it to launch me into a new career.
- read "The Count of Monte Cristo" (unabridged version) - Check! That's a good book.
- stay out all night - Check! I learned to carry a toothbrush with me at all times because you just never know when you're not going to go home.
- write a short story - Half Check. Consider it a VERY short story. I wrote the first part. I still intend on writing the middle and the end.
- karaoke in a crowded bar - Check! "Total Eclipse of the Heart" never sounded so good. By the way... it's a very, very, very long song.
- attend an mlb playoff game - Half Fail. I bought my tickets for a playoff game that never happened. Boo.
- use a fake name/story - Check! You can call me "Shelby".
- road trip to nowhere - Fail! Unless you consider Utah "nowhere".
- play in the rain - Check!
- make a budget and at least try to stick to it - Super Fail!
- kiss someone in a crazy location - Fail! I don't even want to talk about this one.
- attend church services of a different religion - Fail!
- cook with homegrown herbs - Fail! I didn't even try to grow them.
- go skinny dipping - Fail!
- confess to a crush - Fail! I should probably have made this "get a crush". OK, truth be told, I did get a crush. But it was a girl crush and I never got the courage to confess to her because I was 200% sure she'd freak out and never talk to me again.
- have a spa day - Fail! The sad thing is I really deserved it.
- make a rad bleach pen shirt - Check! I made several and have more in the works. Who wants one?
- hike havasupai - Fail! I had my trip planned and everything. Then, a couple of weeks before the trip a flood wiped the whole place out. Very dissappointed!
- go one month without tv - Fail! I hardly watch TV anyway. I did go a whole month without soda though.
- swing on a rope swing - Fail! I didn't even SEE a rope swing.
- take photos in a photo booth - Super Fail! It seemed so easy and fun that I kept putting it off until it was too late. Bad idea.
- go to a drive in movie - Check! One of the greatest nights of my life.
- read the Book of Mormon in french - Fail! At least I read it in english. Too bad I only read it once.
- get a stamp in my passport - Super Check! Amazing trip! Though I should probably finish blogging about it.
- buy a digital SLR camera - Check! It changed my life.
- ride a horse - Fail! Very sad about this one.
- transition to a family ward gracefully - Check! And I love it. A lot. I don't miss the singles ward AT ALL.
- lose 20lbs - Half Check. I lost it, but then I gained half of it back at the holidays. Oops.
- get married - Fail! But I'm totally cool with that.
14 out of 30. Well, it ain't bad but it ain't good either. Regardless, it was a fantastic year.
something's rotten in denmark
I've always suspected I am a victim of multiple personalities - I mean, how could someone like demolition derbys AND broadway, roller derby AND art museums, country music AND punk pop, camping AND 4 star hotels, country towns AND big cities, Walmart AND Nordstrom? I love everything. Everything is my favorite.
While my multiple personality disorder was suspected it was never confirmed until the other day as I was working with a darling British girl who was in town from New York. She asked me where I was from. This question always throws me into a bit of a panic because I'm never quite sure what question they're really asking. Do they mean 'Where were you raised?' or do they mean 'What is your ethnic background?' I never know. See, if I know people are asking the latter question I kind of like to mess with them and answer "Utah" just to watch them squirm a bit until they figure out how to ask the question correctly. This time around I went with the standard answer.
"I'm from Utah."
Her follow up to my answer was NOT expected.
"Oh really? I would have guessed you were from, like, Denmark or something."
Denmark? Really? I'd never gotten that one before. But then it hit me. A realization that was both embarassing and wildly entertaining.
I have a Utah accent.
It's true. While my friend and family would most likely disagree with me (because my everyday accent is not Utahn) it is nevertheless true. See, I have this thing that I do when I am trying to sound professional or am around people upon whom I'm trying to make a good impression. I subconsiously adopt a fake accent. I try to speak clearly and confidently but what it comes out sounding like is a Utah accent. Did you catch the irony in that statement? When trying to sound smart and educated I come out sounding exactly the opposite. My professional personality is apparently a small town Utahn.
It hit me then and there that I've been doing this for years without realizing it. Kind of like how half way through the mission I realized that when I spoke french I spoke with a higher voice to sound... I dunno... more french (though everyone thought I was either from Canada or the Netherlands).
I suppose a NY based Brit wouldn't really know what a Utah accent sounds like so the closest thing she could guess was Danish. Why can't I adopt something more sophisticated like her darlin british accent? No... I choose to go back to my roots... or 'rhuts' as we'd say up 'Narth'.
Now that I know I do this am I going to stop? Nope. Why? Because, I love Utah. Also, because the fake accent totally aligns with my plans of one day becoming legit crazy.
While my multiple personality disorder was suspected it was never confirmed until the other day as I was working with a darling British girl who was in town from New York. She asked me where I was from. This question always throws me into a bit of a panic because I'm never quite sure what question they're really asking. Do they mean 'Where were you raised?' or do they mean 'What is your ethnic background?' I never know. See, if I know people are asking the latter question I kind of like to mess with them and answer "Utah" just to watch them squirm a bit until they figure out how to ask the question correctly. This time around I went with the standard answer.
"I'm from Utah."
Her follow up to my answer was NOT expected.
"Oh really? I would have guessed you were from, like, Denmark or something."
Denmark? Really? I'd never gotten that one before. But then it hit me. A realization that was both embarassing and wildly entertaining.
I have a Utah accent.
It's true. While my friend and family would most likely disagree with me (because my everyday accent is not Utahn) it is nevertheless true. See, I have this thing that I do when I am trying to sound professional or am around people upon whom I'm trying to make a good impression. I subconsiously adopt a fake accent. I try to speak clearly and confidently but what it comes out sounding like is a Utah accent. Did you catch the irony in that statement? When trying to sound smart and educated I come out sounding exactly the opposite. My professional personality is apparently a small town Utahn.
It hit me then and there that I've been doing this for years without realizing it. Kind of like how half way through the mission I realized that when I spoke french I spoke with a higher voice to sound... I dunno... more french (though everyone thought I was either from Canada or the Netherlands).
I suppose a NY based Brit wouldn't really know what a Utah accent sounds like so the closest thing she could guess was Danish. Why can't I adopt something more sophisticated like her darlin british accent? No... I choose to go back to my roots... or 'rhuts' as we'd say up 'Narth'.
Now that I know I do this am I going to stop? Nope. Why? Because, I love Utah. Also, because the fake accent totally aligns with my plans of one day becoming legit crazy.
06 February 2009
good morning
Hey guys.
I miss you. I know it's my own fault. I've been a little out of it blogwise.
I've got a few posts milling around in my brain. I'll do my best to commit them to type soon(ish).
In the meantime please enjoy this song/video I found on another blog. It may be the most fantastic video I've ever seen. Then again, how could I not love something that combines my two favorite things in the world - being in bed during the day and awesomeness.
I miss you. I know it's my own fault. I've been a little out of it blogwise.
I've got a few posts milling around in my brain. I'll do my best to commit them to type soon(ish).
In the meantime please enjoy this song/video I found on another blog. It may be the most fantastic video I've ever seen. Then again, how could I not love something that combines my two favorite things in the world - being in bed during the day and awesomeness.
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