Why Mommy Groups Can Be Like Texas Holdem

This morning while I was brushing my teeth...well, honestly, I don't remember if this thought occurrerd to me WHILE I was brushing my teeth...it might have been some other time this morning, but today, the thought occurred to me, that sometimes, when we moms (Is it "us moms" or "we moms"?) share stories, not only do we like to entertain eachother, sometimes we like to "one-up" eachother.

Disclaimer: This is not necessarily a description of any mommy group that I, myself, belong to...so you can relax ladies. It's an imaginary group.

It's almost like a game of poker, specifically Texas Holdem'. "Blinds" are forced actions by the two people left of the dealer (the person keeping the conversation or game going by dealing the cards). The small blind is half the big blind. The big blind is the minimum bet. By putting in blinds, this makes sure money is always placed in the pot. Once the blinds are met, people start checking, betting, folding, calling or raising and eventually someone takes the pot.

Normally, a "check" means you're still in the hand but you're choosing not to bet. A "fold" means you are facing a bet, but you choose not to participate or call, so you throw away your cards. A "call" is a bet that matches an opponent's bet. A "bet" means you want to put some money into the pot. A "raise" means you are facing a bet, but want to put even more money into the pot. I imagine a mommy group conversation something like this:

Dealer: Kids can be crazy, right?

The small blind: This morning my kids drew all over the bathroom walls with my lipstick.

The big blind: That's nothing. My kids took permanent marker to my floor tile, the couch and the livingroom walls, the night I was supposed to host a dinner party with my husband's boss and his wife. (an action twice as bad as the first)

My kids have done that too. (check)

So have mine. They're crazy! (check)

Dealer: It's not always pets that make the messes, right Karen?

That's right! I don't have any kids, but my dog once ate a roast I had just cooked when I had my in-laws over for dinner. Took the whole thing off the counter and ate it while I was busy answering the door. He later threw it up in my slippers. (bet)

Oooo! I don't have any pets. That sounds awful! (fold)

My Great Dane, shook and killed the neighbor's prize-winning cat!!! (raise)

How is that even possible? Does your neighbor even OWN a cat? Don't they have bad allergies? (call)

Dealer: Awkward.

I know this isn't a complete game, but it gives you a window into how my mind works. I don't play the game regularly, and all information for this article came from THIS Youtube tutorial. It's a good one.

Wednesday Monday

 

I've decided that today, Wednesday, is our Monday. First, a disclaimer: This is not a roll of complaints, it is a monologue, designed to make you smile, cringe and laugh...with sympathy.

 

It's the first day that Daddy is back to work after the New Year made it's debut and we're back into our "normal routine" together, just us girls. Shannon and Rory both have colds. I think this is number 37 in a row, (not really, but I just wanted to speak to my tired frame of mind). Our baseboard heating, coated in dust and cat hair, and low humidity, plus my OWN cold has made it a rough night's sleep. My hair is mussed, my flannel pajamas askew, my lips are dry and scaly and caked with a mix of saliva and mucus and there is a delightful film on my teeth. I wake up at quarter to 7 with shrieks of "Mommy! Mommy!" Not good.

I stumble down the hall, groggy and partially asleep and walk into a gloomy room, the smell of urine hits my draining nostrils.  There are TWO urine-soaked toddlers and two beds to change, ahhhh twins. The top of Rory's diaper has split open and the pee-soaked plastic jelly inside has opened into her footy pajamas, down into her right leg. Both girls have peed clear through their jammies. The bathtub it is!

In my haste to strip the toddlers and run the bath, I go to hastily blow my nose into a tissue. I miss the tissue and fill the palm of my left hand with green mucus. Grossness factor of about 6 on a scale of 1 to 10. Fast forward to after breakfast. Following a bath and getting dressed, we go downstairs for a breakfast of yogurt and Nutella bread. An announcement is made. "Poo-poo!" Not unusual. I take my time to clean them both up after eating. No additional complaints of poop, no offensive smells, so we skip to playing. I think, "Maybe it was just gas."

I'm running the timer on the microwave as they learn to share a second-hand stroller and I pick Rory up to check her pants and change her. Her pants are soaked in liquid poo, and now, so is my left arm. Eau de poo...No visible traces just a nice stench.

All this to say, it was followed by two more doodies, albeit in small successive volumes. Shannon announced she had to go too, but on the potty, and succeeded in a wet fart, as she sat on the toilet with the phone, talking to her grandparents, who were cheering her on.

There is more to tell. I could go on telling you about my role as referee and housemaid. But I will leave you with this parting thought: the cat is kneeding my belly fat as I type (he only comes out when the kids are down for naps or in bed). I'm going to go drink some water because I'm getting a caffeine-induced headache. A cup of coffee, a cup of black tea, and a Diet Mountain Dew drunk in one morning will do that to you.