Mommying where the poop meets the playground

What a day!

The sun is shining again here, and One Philly Son loves, loves, loves to go outside to play.

As a matter of fact, we have a playset, picnic table, swing and slide set up for him in the yard. I want him to play outside. I know exploring his world is a crucial and exciting experience for him.

On the other hand, we have two dogs who see the yard as their, well, potty.

Enter internal debate #1. To play or not to play? Well, I went with play, and hovered over One Philly Son to try to avert any collisions with doggy poo landmines. (One Philly Daddy did a pick up yesterday, but toddlers seem drawn to the one thing you hope they don't find.)

One Philly Son loved being outside. He drug the rake around, laughed at the dogs, threw a ball,and yes, walked directly into a densley populated poo depository.

Internal debate #2. Cut short play time or manage the poo situation? I decided to manage the poo. Out came a plastic bag, and the poo scoop and shovel. Which was tricky because One Philly Son loves all things grown up cleaning related. So while I scooped I kept up a steady stream of "don't touch that" and "icky" and we luckily avoided THAT mess. He continued to play and have a great time.

Then he heard the trash trucks out front and went to investigate.

Internal debate #3. I spotted some neighbors and kids playing down the street and had to decide whether or not to wander down the street, knowing One Philly Son would head straight there. The debate was entirely motivated by the fact that I hadn't showered and had just thrown sweatpants over my jammies to head out to play. Sigh. I must be a sucker, cause down the hill we went. Again, he had a great time.

Once playtime was over, we headed home. Internal debate #4. I wanted to give One Philly Son a bath since he'd been in Poo Palace Playland, but also needed a shower myself. So what to do? Shower while he fusses? Bathe him and hope I'm clean from our play outside? (to be clear, he only stepped in one small poo and had just the tiniest bit on the sole of his shoe. But since I had to carry him, and he often gets down to crawl/climb on things, I really wasn't sure where exactly that sole had been.)

So I did the most effective, safest, fastest thing I could think of. Drew a bath and plopped the both of us in there.

By this time, One Philly Son is getting really really tired and cranky. He'd had an eventful Sunday, and played hard all morning. #5. Lunch then nap or nap then lunch? I threw together a quick lunch, which he ate enough of, and promptly nodded off in his booster seat. So off to nap he goes.

In the midst of this one of my most prolific poop producers shred a pillow on the spare bedroom, presumably because I wouldn't let him off the lead while we were in the yard. Trust me, this dog can be quite deliberate in his spite. So that was another debate. What are we up to, 6? To blow up at the dog, clean up the mess or carry on with my bath, lunch, nap routine? I went with the latter.

I'm working hard to accept that much of my day is not under my control. I can influence certain things and control my reactions, but that is really all I can do. While in our yard my critical eye and mind made a mind-numbing list of to-do's. Flower pots and boxes, weeding, raking and on and on. I asked that voice to just shush a minute so I could enjoy my son laughing at the dog. My grossed out self wanted to be irritated, angry and fed up about the poop. I focused on seeing the value of the play, reminding myself there's poop in everyone's (metaphoric) yard, so it's not so much about being upset about the poop as it is just doing your best to play around the poop.

As we speak a pile of dirty play clothes are laying on my kitchen floor where I stripped us as soon as we came in from the yard,the guts of a pillow are piled on my guest bed, a half eaten lunch sits on my counter.

I'm so glad I'm learning to play around the poo.