The Poopsie Collective

TV Moms Who Have it All Figured Out

Written by ERICA

Confession time…or for anyone who knows me, this is less of a confession of some deep, dark secret and more of an obvious exclamation of a fact. I live for TV. Or more accurately, I can’t live without TV. I’ll never forget back in High School when I had to do some stupid (not so stupid after all) exercise and calculate how many hours a week I spent watching TV. Turns out, it was a lot. And it’s still a lot. If you consider 15+ hours a week to be a lot. Personally, I don’t. But I’m deluded. Ok, so we’ve established that I’m not normal, I have an addiction to the remote, and I’m questionably beyond help. Hi, my name is Erica, and I’m a TV addict. (Hi, Erica.)

My love of TV isn’t always a bad thing. It’s not like I locked myself in my bedroom and refused food when Buffy the Vampire Slayer switched networks and Buffy “died” (albeit temporarily). Oh wait, I did. Crap. 

It’s not always like that! I swear! Sometimes TV is really helpful! I mean, I learn a lot from the vast collection of shows I study. Maybe not The Bachelor… all I learned from that show’s 16 dreadful seasons is that tube tops are never ever (EVER) flattering unless you give up eating entirely, and most girls look like they have Bell’s Palsy when they cry.  But TV can teach you a lot. For example, when it comes to motherhood, some of my biggest role models are TV moms. Yes, I know they are fake moms. (And yes mom, you are also on my role models list, just not this list.) So they’re fictional characters, does that make their experiences and lessons any less helpful? 

So here’s my list of the top 5 TV moms and what I’ve learned from them that I will carry into motherhood and beyond:

5) Joyce Summers (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, mother to Buffy Summers)

Oh Buffy, my hero, my obsession, my ultimate example of strength, style, awesomeness and power mixed into one pretty little lady. But despite the fact that I am madly in love with her (Buffy the character, and Sarah Michelle Gellar, the actress who embodies that character), I can recognize that to be her mother must SUCK. Ha, get it? Suck? As in, vampires suck your blood. Whatever, it was funny. Being Buffy’s mother cannot have been easy. Your kid is off saving the world night after night, and on top of all that, she’s also banging a dead guy with fangs. Actually, 2 dead guys, both with fangs: one with a soul, and one with a proclivity for human blood. Not an ideal situation for a mom who’s trying to keep her daughter safe, healthy and happy. But Joyce Summers accepted her daughter, she supported her, she made friends with her friends and somehow she was able to be the strong role model Buffy needed at all times. 

Lessons Learned: acceptance is key, and no matter how strong your kids may seem or pretend to be (or in Buffy’s case, actually be), at the end of they day they need your strength behind them.

4) Cindy Walsh (Beverly Hills 90210 (Original), mother to Brenda & Brandon)

Moving to a new city is tough; I speak from experience. Moving from the Midwestern burbs to Beverly Hills is debatably the toughest. Your once-upon-a-time perfect twins are about to be faced with bad boys (Dylan McKay, swoon), drugs, slutty girls, BMWs, eating disorders, legacy keys, troubled teens, pregnancy scares…the list goes on. Now Cindy Walsh isn’t exactly my type of mom, I mean, she wore mom jeans and had the bowl haircut (which I could blame on the style of the times, but then again, Kelly’s mom was always super cool). But despite her style, Cindy always made a home-cooked meal. She always opened her home to troubled friends in need of a stable adult figure. She and Jim actually loved each other. She was the glue that held the Walsh family together. Something I hope to be for my clan.

Lessons Learned: a home-cooked meal goes a long way, and though it often seems like a thankless job, sometimes just being present and welcoming in your home is everything.

3) Ashley Marin (Pretty Little Liars, mother to Hanna)

First of all, if you don’t watch Pretty Little Liars, get involved. This show is AMAZEballs. Anyway, Ashley Marin (PKA Sydney Andrews on Melrose Place) is a lot of things, but the top of the list when it comes to her best mom qualities: intelligent, witty, and real. She knows her daughter isn’t always making the best decisions. She knows people make mistakes. She gets that high school girls can be bitchy. She also knows that sometimes to be a good mom, you have to give your kid space. And most importantly, she knows when her kid is lying just by surveying her twitchy face. I presume that face-reading is a must-have skill for moms of teenagers.

Lessons Learned: study your kid’s facial expressions starting, like, yesterday. And let them learn from their own mistakes; but be there, be open and be honest with them.

2) Cameron (Cam) Tucker (Modern Family, father/mother figure to Lily)

Fine, not a “mom” per-se. But a mother figure for sure. He’s a party planner extraordinaire, expert clown, stay-at-home-dad, loving husband and hysterical father. Also, he rocks the drums, sings to little Lily and loves to accessorize. And while I’d rather look like Claire Dunphy (so pretty!), she’s a little too high-strung for my taste. Cam is the perfect mix of protective, intense, involved, fun-loving, and funny.

Lessons Learned: a good birthday party goes a long way, it’s important to be silly with your kids, and a well-crafted outfit is always appreciated, even on a toddler.

1) Tami Taylor (Friday Night Lights, mother to Julie and Gracie Belle)

And now, for my # 1 TV mom hero. AJ is shaking his head right now because just the other night I turned down watching an episode of Friday Night Lights so that I could catch up on The Vampire Diaries. Vampires over football any day, AJ. Write that down. That said, Tami Taylor is just the absolute coolest, hottest, most amazing mom I’ve ever seen (on TV). She ALWAYS knows what to do. Always. How does she freakin’ do that? She handles everything (motherhood, being the school principle, being the football coach’s wife, town politics…) with such grace and ease. She seriously makes it look so simple. Daughter caught boning the team quarterback? No problem. School bad boy (oh Timmy Riggins I adore you so) needs a place to crash? Sure. Husband gets a gig at TMU while you are 8 months pregnant and stuck in Dillon as the school counselor? Peace of southern pie. She is supportive, she is understanding, but she also speaks her mind. And her family always (ALWAYS) comes first.

Lessons Learned: loving and supporting your family is your number 1 job, stand up for what you believe is the best thing for your loved ones. And roll with the punches, because no one is perfect and try as you might, nothing works out exactly as you plan.

Inside the Mind of a Mellow Mama

Written by ERICA

Being a mom is scary. Actually, I think it starts way before motherhood. Being a grown up is scary. Realizing you are not a kid anymore and your childish, sometimes flat-out irresponsible behavior (i.e. sneaking out to clubs in Paris at 3am when you are 15, drinking your body weight in beer during an intense game of flip cup, inviting 200+ of your nearest and dearest friends to a party at your grandparents house WHILE THEY ARE ASLEEP INSIDE…) might not fly, is pretty freakin’ terrifying. 

And on top of that, now not only do you have to own up to your own behavior, but you are solely responsible for the wellbeing and safety of another human. You are a parent. Your kid is depending on you to not f*ck it up. NO PRESSURE OR ANYTHING.

So considering what’s at stake, it seems pretty likely that any new mom would be a total nutcase—a ticking time bomb, freaking out over every little fall, every scrape, every cry, every poop-splosion… It seems unavoidable. Or is it?

Poop? What poop?  Don’t ask how it got down his leg, the important thing is, I chose to laugh instead of freak out.

Somehow, against all the odds, I have managed to be an extremely mellow mama. It’s not even intentional, if I’m being honest. I truthfully never set out to be so laid back, and sometimes I think I might be mild-mannered to a fault. Like when Owen was sick for the first time at 3 months old and AJ kept saying he felt really hot and I was all “nah he’s fine, just let the kid be.” And then oops, he had a fever of 105.3. Yeah, that wasn’t my finest moment as a mom. 

Anyhoo, enough people have asked me how I stay so calm even in the face of projectile vomit, so here’s a sneak peak inside the mind of this mellow mama. Disclaimer: I have absolutely zero credentials and am in no way qualified to be giving you advice, but these are the honest thoughts that go through my twisted-yet-calm mind on a daily basis.

Crack Whores Have Kids

I kept telling myself this when AJ and I first got home from the hospital and had one of those “holy crap we should not be allowed to care for this child we have NO IDEA what we’re doing” moments. I took a breath, put Owen in his crib and reminded myself that there are people far less qualified, less responsible and more drugged out than me who somehow manage to successfully raise a child. If a 15 year old who didn’t even have the wits to know she was pregnant (which, by the way, WTF?) is able to take care of a baby, then surely I can handle this.

Crash, Boom

If you’re a mom and you have this notion that you will be able to prevent your kid from ever falling down or getting hurt, then you’re living in a Band-Aid-free dream world and you’re setting yourself up to fail. Kids get hurt. Accidents happen. Their grandmothers drop them. They fall off beds. They tumble down stairs while their mom “watches” them. (Yup, all of that happened.) The good news is, they’re super resilient and will probably just bounce back up and continue whatever they were doing before they face planted. What matters is not necessarily preventing them from ever getting hurt, but how you handle it when they do take a spill. If you freak they will freak. If you’re calm they’ll be calm. Our new thing is laughing in Owen’s face anytime he falls and saying “crash, boom”. It sounds mean and pretty ridiculous, but when I laugh he laughs and soon enough we’re both cracking up over the fact that he has a huge lump on his forehead. 

Don’t mind the massive gash on his cheek, just a little nail-cutting (or my neglecting to cut his nails) incident at 2 months old. A (sadly) common accident in our house.

It’s Just a Little Poop

I’ve said it before; I’ll say it some more. Being a mom is messy. The minute you decide to accept the mess is the minute you will stop caring that it’s messy. At the beginning I tried to keep everything insanely tidy (I am type A after all). I put away his toys while he was still playing with them, diaper changes only happened on the changing table, hand sanitizer was positioned in every nook of our apartment, Owen had a bib strapped around his neck at all times. And then I realized it wasn’t worth it. Don’t get me wrong. I clean our home like a crazy woman. I scrub every surface, I organize his toys by category, I fold AJ’s shirts by color, and I spend way too much time putting together his stackable sets. But I also let him make a mess. Our kitchen is like his casino; pulling Tupperware out of the cabinet and dumping cups on the floor is his version of craps. I let him enjoy it and clean it up later. And now that diaper changes have gotten a lot more squirmy (aka impossible), I’ve realized it’s OK if it happens on the floor, without any wipes, and with some of his feces on my hands. It happens, and it’s just a little poop.

Owen with his bib strapped securely around his neck, in an attempt to minimize any drooling/puke messes. Not a good look for him.

TV is Your Friend

I know a lot of people out there might think that TV rots the brain (does that mentality still exist?). Now I can tell you first hand, both as someone who has worked for Nickelodeon and someone who now watches Nickelodeon religiously, TV is a mom’s best friend. “Dora the Explorer” is the only reason I can take a dump after my morning coffee. If the Bubble Guppies weren’t on I’d still be wearing pajamas at noon. I park Owen in front of the TV and take my 10 minutes for mommy. And that’s OK. Turns out that most kid-friendly television shows are actually educational and full of catchy tunes (that I annoyingly sing all day). He loves it, I love it, it’s a win-win. And yes, I recognize that “The Bachelor” doesn’t fall under the educational kids TV category (I actually think I get dumber and more dramatic every time I watch it), but Owen needs to know who Ben sends home. 

Save the Drama for Another Mama

Find a friend to vent to. If and when something freaks you out (and as calm as you may try to be at all times, it will), talk to a fellow mom. Commiserate and compare notes and let yourself lose it a little, but don’t do it in front of your kid. If you can manage to keep your cool when your baby falls, or has a tantrum, or decides to pee standing up in the corner of the room (fact), then your kid will follow suit. And then, once the bambino has gone to sleep, whip out a glass of wine, call a friend and let it rip. Or better yet, share your comments/concerns/stories/insanity with us! After all, if you’ve been there, you can bet the Poopsie team has been there and back twice. Email us at poopsiecollective@gmail.com

5 Mom Moments I’m Not Proud Of (Part I of a Poopsie Collective Series)

Written by ERICA

5) When my water broke about 3.5 weeks early (although at the time I thought I had just pissed myself, which was fairly standard for this super preggo eggo) AJ and I ran out of our apartment to rush to the hospital. And just our luck, there were no available cabs in sight. Freakin’ shift changes! So we played the “bun in the oven” card and begged an off-duty cab for a ride as I clutched my own crotch and pretended like I was crowning. I then proceeded to leak amniotic fluid all over his back seat. But we did give him a nice tip as a “sorry I messed up your car with my bodily fluids” gesture.

4) You know those moms who expose their kids to educational media at a VERY early age? Yeah, that’s not me. I expose my child to vampire shows, trashy reality TV and gossip mags. Which I thought I wasn’t embarrassed about. “I’m not a regular mom; I’m a COOL MOM!” That is, until a mom at baby yoga (yes, it’s a thing) asked if I had been doing the Baby Einstein videos. And in the heat of the moment, I LIED. I smiled and nodded and acted all up on the baby genius crap, but inside I was picturing that super racy sex scene Owen and I watched between (SPOILER ALERT) Sookie Stackhouse and Eric Northman on True Blood the night before. I guess when he’s old enough to find his own penis then I’ll swap HBO for Einstein. 

Owen and I, having a hot date with Edward Cullen.

3) Confession time: I HATE cutting Owen’s nails. Or maybe more accurately, I’m terrified of it. I’m pretty sure I’m going to chop off his finger by accident. And nobody likes a nubbin. So instead, I avoid the task at all costs. Which is fine in theory, until he scratches off a chunk of my lip or wakes up with a gash on his cheek. Also, he looks a bit like a teeny tiny nomad living in dirt with gunk under his overgrown nails.

2) One time I let Owen sit in his own crap for a 3-hour flight to Miami. In fairness, he pooped during take off and then promptly fell asleep in the Bjorn on my lap. Who am I to wake him up for a mile-high a$$ wiping? It was the better of the 2 options, at least I thought…until we deplaned and the poop (plus some pee as a bonus) had seeped through his clothes and onto mine. 

1) Anyone who says childbirth is beautiful clearly wasn’t in my birthing room. Labor was not one of my most impressive moments as a freshly crowned mom, unless you find shitting yourself impressive. And the best part is, it didn’t happen once, nope, not even twice. I crapped myself 3 TIMES, 2 of which were before even pushing. I blame my epidural and big pre-labor brunch. AND I even tried to blame the poop smell on AJ. I was all “Are you SURE you didn’t fart!?” but turns out…it was ME. A realization I am far from proud of. And I’m pretty sure I’ll regret sharing it here…

Drugged up, relaxed as can be, and sitting in my own feces.