I'm a big fan of Playgroups. When I first embarked on this stay-at-home-mommy journey, I combed the internet looking for a Mom group. Noone really told me the necessity that such a group would hold for me, but as a now 6ish year veteran of not one, but two playgroups, I will tell you-they are a must for the stay homers. It's very easy to get sucked into your own little world with your babies, to detach from the realities of things like World News, Make-Up, and Adult Conversation. Once, when Tanner was about 3 months old, I was riding in the car with Todd not knowing what to do with myself-no screaming child, no baby music to find, no bottle to fill. At that point Todd stopped down, looked at me, and told me to get out more-that WE needed to get out more WITHOUT the kids. The way he said it startled me, but at the same time I knew he was right. I was going a little nutso...enter Playgroup. 
I found the said Mom group, called the Mom in charge, and on a Tuesday knocked on a stranger's door. They welcomed me with open arms; they introduced Madison to the other kids; they fed us both lunch; they told stories of their own children and family lives. They made me feel normal. From that moment on, there was no stopping me from missing Tuesday Playgroup. If we were well, we were there-because yes, the kids had the opportunity to play, but also-I formed a connection with these moms. They saw me at my most vulnerable-a new mom, and they still liked me, reassured me, and laughed with me. They gave me advice without sounding condescending. They gave me hugs when I just knew I was sending my children into future therapy. They assured me that all the craziness in my life was normal, and that I would gain some control over my surroundings eventually. They said all this because they were in the same place I was-needing the same reassurances thrown their direction. We shared our Tuesday mornings, we shared our children, and we shared our lives. They were a lifeline for me, and I dearly missed them upon our Big Move. I mourned that support system. I felt naked with only my crazy thoughts and even crazier children to surround me.
Slowly, I began to form friendships here, and put out a few feelers to these Moms to see if they would like to meet and play. To my surprise, they jumped on the chance-maybe needing those connections and bonds as much as I did. Last year, we met at McDonald's and the park. We went on a few fieldtrips over the summer, and this year our little group has really molded into something quite special. We celebrate our blessings, hurt for our hardships, and look forward to that weekly retreat into friendship. A friendship that feels safe, accepting, and fun.
Today was the perfect example of how we've grown from awkward acquaintances to real-live friends. We took time out from our normal routine to celebrate a new baby-due in March. We brought diapers for the new mom (or really I guess the new baby), packed lunches for the kids, and tasted Valentine's treats and official Baby Shower Cake-complete with finger holes.
The kids made bird feeders with pine cones, peanut butter and birdseed...
We walked down to a newly constructed fort (constructed by the MOM by the way!). The kids ran and played with the dogs-laughing in the sun.
Here you will begin to understand the guts of my story. While admiring the wonderful fort, Grady decided it was time for a potty break, pulled down his pants, peed, and unexpectedly-surprisingly even to him-pooped. Pooped right there on the dirt. Right there. I was hangin' in the fort when I saw the "O NO-what do I do now face", and scurried up to get him. Scurry is the key word-as I did this, I lost my footing, and both Grady and I came crashing down on some rocks. Blood, skin, and poop all around us. My gracious playgroup grabbed my camera, helped me to my feet, cleaned up the feces, and a wound care specialist even gave me some instructions for my injury. I was mortified on so many levels, but these girls-they began telling stories of how their children had done the same thing...expected pee and surprised with poo. This is key-a mom HAS to know that her children aren't the worst in the world. She NEEDS to know that someone else has lived through the same experience and come out of it with her sanity intact. This is playgroup.
The rest of the afternoon, the kids settled with Curious George and their Valentine Lollipops.
The moms savored some of the non-finger-holed side of the Baby Cake, and took the time to laugh at ourselves and our crazy kids. Before I left, I made a note to show Grady the Baby Belly of Honor. His amazement was obvious, and the rest of the day he talked about "when that baby comes to playgroup."
I cherish these Mommy Moments, especially as my kids are growing older, and I feel my role changing with them. I'm no longer just surviving the baby chaos; I'm wading through the tricky issues of molding these babies into people. People that make good choices, care for their world, cherish relationships, and thank God everyday for their many blessings. I only wish these next stages were as simple as unexpected poo and weekly playgroup.
I found the said Mom group, called the Mom in charge, and on a Tuesday knocked on a stranger's door. They welcomed me with open arms; they introduced Madison to the other kids; they fed us both lunch; they told stories of their own children and family lives. They made me feel normal. From that moment on, there was no stopping me from missing Tuesday Playgroup. If we were well, we were there-because yes, the kids had the opportunity to play, but also-I formed a connection with these moms. They saw me at my most vulnerable-a new mom, and they still liked me, reassured me, and laughed with me. They gave me advice without sounding condescending. They gave me hugs when I just knew I was sending my children into future therapy. They assured me that all the craziness in my life was normal, and that I would gain some control over my surroundings eventually. They said all this because they were in the same place I was-needing the same reassurances thrown their direction. We shared our Tuesday mornings, we shared our children, and we shared our lives. They were a lifeline for me, and I dearly missed them upon our Big Move. I mourned that support system. I felt naked with only my crazy thoughts and even crazier children to surround me.Slowly, I began to form friendships here, and put out a few feelers to these Moms to see if they would like to meet and play. To my surprise, they jumped on the chance-maybe needing those connections and bonds as much as I did. Last year, we met at McDonald's and the park. We went on a few fieldtrips over the summer, and this year our little group has really molded into something quite special. We celebrate our blessings, hurt for our hardships, and look forward to that weekly retreat into friendship. A friendship that feels safe, accepting, and fun.
Today was the perfect example of how we've grown from awkward acquaintances to real-live friends. We took time out from our normal routine to celebrate a new baby-due in March. We brought diapers for the new mom (or really I guess the new baby), packed lunches for the kids, and tasted Valentine's treats and official Baby Shower Cake-complete with finger holes.
The kids made bird feeders with pine cones, peanut butter and birdseed...
We walked down to a newly constructed fort (constructed by the MOM by the way!). The kids ran and played with the dogs-laughing in the sun.
Here you will begin to understand the guts of my story. While admiring the wonderful fort, Grady decided it was time for a potty break, pulled down his pants, peed, and unexpectedly-surprisingly even to him-pooped. Pooped right there on the dirt. Right there. I was hangin' in the fort when I saw the "O NO-what do I do now face", and scurried up to get him. Scurry is the key word-as I did this, I lost my footing, and both Grady and I came crashing down on some rocks. Blood, skin, and poop all around us. My gracious playgroup grabbed my camera, helped me to my feet, cleaned up the feces, and a wound care specialist even gave me some instructions for my injury. I was mortified on so many levels, but these girls-they began telling stories of how their children had done the same thing...expected pee and surprised with poo. This is key-a mom HAS to know that her children aren't the worst in the world. She NEEDS to know that someone else has lived through the same experience and come out of it with her sanity intact. This is playgroup.The rest of the afternoon, the kids settled with Curious George and their Valentine Lollipops.
The moms savored some of the non-finger-holed side of the Baby Cake, and took the time to laugh at ourselves and our crazy kids. Before I left, I made a note to show Grady the Baby Belly of Honor. His amazement was obvious, and the rest of the day he talked about "when that baby comes to playgroup."
I cherish these Mommy Moments, especially as my kids are growing older, and I feel my role changing with them. I'm no longer just surviving the baby chaos; I'm wading through the tricky issues of molding these babies into people. People that make good choices, care for their world, cherish relationships, and thank God everyday for their many blessings. I only wish these next stages were as simple as unexpected poo and weekly playgroup.
