Home is where you park it-part 2

Ok people.

You have 8 bodies in about 300 square feet. In August, and it's raining cats and dogs out there. The kids are bored. They are sweaty- the air conditioner isn't keeping up. Every ones crabby. Especially mamma. There's no TV. But there are movie capabilities because that smart mamma rigged up a real fancy unit with a wall mount tv mounted on a few 2x4s and a prayer....but the distraction of Dora doesn't last long. We can't get out, no one can get in. The mud is deep, sticky and slimy. Even our 4 wheel drive truck gets stuck.

I threw my hands in the air. "That's it," I shouted, "We are having our very own MUDMAN!" All the kids cheered! They stripped down to the bare minimum, and rushed outside. At first, they gingerly stepped into the muddy slime. But in no time, they were rolling in it like pigs. Covered head to toe, they ran up and down the huge mountains of black dirt playing king of the hill. They threw it at each other, they fell in it. Then they hooked a sled behind the 4 wheeler, kicked it into 4 wheel drive, and pulled each other through the puddles. The dog ran happily along, her big pink tongue lolling out of her grin.

MUDMAN 2014

Brennan, tickled to be allowed to get this dirty.

Our "shower station" 

The mud is caked on the tires!

Our "dining room"

Little Emily, with mud on her feet, pee in her pants, and holding a toad.

Well, after the kids were completely tuckered out, they all made their way through the shower station to get cleaned up, and back in the camper we went to get a good nights sleep. All August  it went on this way. The rains would come, and immediately it turned to slop. Then we would have a day of sun, and it would harden to a crust. 

September came, and I pulled out my inventory of school supplies, backpacks, and new jeans. The kids needed rides from the shed door down the 1/2 mile long driveway to the bus door to protect their shoes. 

Many pairs of shoes, clothes, and other things were ruined by the mud. It was a constant battle to keep it out of the camper and out of our beds, especially since every bathroom break necessitated a trip outside to the biffy. Many times i washed my feet in the kiddie pool at 3 am after stumbling through the mud.  

As our home was being built, the rain poured water into the basement, and the men slopped around ankle deep in mud. It really was a hard, trying time to keep things clean, and keep things moving along. We shoveled out mud and swept water out of our new basement.

Eventually, things dried out enough to put the roof on and proceed with the house, and the kids were able to get some energy out running through the rooms. I gave them markers to color on the subfloor, and the 2x4's. They had a blast "decorating" and writing little notes through the house. 

The house was almost finished and we moved in on November 1. Three months of camper living made our new home feel like a huge palace. 3 bathrooms, 3 showers, 3 bathtubs. A washer and dryer. A stove with 5 burners. An entry rug. From the biggest things down to the smallest detail, we still appreciate our new home every day. That is the only thing I am glad about with the camper experience. It really gave us and the kids an appreciation for the things we have. 

It still doesn't seem real.

The first amazing night in our new house.

Home is where you park it.....

For 3 months this summer while we built our house, our family of 8 lived in a 36 foot Forest River travel trailer. A camper. A glorified tin can.

Not our exact rig, but pretty cute, nonetheless..

We packed each kid a basket of clothes, a basket of treasured toys, and stuffed a few household essentials. our food, and some favorite possessions into the camper, and carefully boxed up all of the rest of our belongings. We wrapped our furniture and mattresses, and we moved our family out to the country in a convoy of trailers, trucks, and the camper, and into a pole shed where we parked our new "home" and stacked our belongings neatly behind it. Our dining table sat right outside the camper door, ready for wonderful, relaxing meals alfresco with the giant doors of the shed flung open. Our grill sat outside the shed door, LP tank ready and filled, ready for fun meals of hot dogs and burgers, and late night steak meals. I dreamed of dinners with friends and family, lemonade, beer, and listening to the rain drum on the roof.

It was August 7th.

The basement of the new house was dug, and we were underway. There was no turning back.
But we were prepared.
I had everything planned.

At first it was fun. Lazy summer days, kids playing in the woods, trying to avoid the poison ivy, swimming in the lake down the hill. Hanging the laundry up on the line in the sunshine overlooking that lake. It was beautiful and peaceful. I even had a washing machine hooked up to the hose inside the shed. I didn't have a dryer- no matter, sunshine was in good supply.  2 loads a day, standing in the sun. Sheets and towels smelling of warm sunny days.

We didn't have use of our septic system yet, so we were unable to use the camper toilet. So I rented a port-a-potty and parked its blazing blue plastic glory right outside the giant shed door.  We had water, and hooked it up to the camper for washing hands and cooking, and that water just drained into a rock trench outside the shed. We had a water shower doo dad that hooked up to the water hose from the well that was just dug, and on the other end, hooked up to a propane tank, and provided endless hot water, so I rigged it up real nice under a pop-up tent. I strapped the sprayer up with a bungee cord, and we had endless hot water....outside. The kids could get dirty, and I had the water ready to fill up the kiddie pool and give them endless hot baths! It was the perfect solution to 6 dirty kids. Us parents and the teenager showered at night. Under the stars. Nekked. With the mosquitoes and raccoons, Yeah, the teenager didn't want to do that, so she wore her swimsuit all summer.

We made it work. I mean, it had to, we had no other option. We couldn't rent anywhere for just 3 months, and besides, we have a ton of stuff. And a dog. So it was really the only choice. I tried to be optimistic. Really, I did. I thought it was going to be a glorified camping trip.
But then the rains came.

It rained over 9 inches in 3 days.

Our land is 20 acres of pure clay.

Add water to clay and you get the stickiest, most obnoxious mess possible. We couldn't leave, we couldn't even walk across the yard. Our truck got stuck in it, our kids lost shoes in it. We were literally stuck inside the camper.

To be continued.....

The Blur

Hey all you mammas!

Do you ever feel like all you're good for is wiping small butts, making sure diapers are changed, cleaning peanut butter off the windows because you gave the little runt a spoonful to keep him occupied while you answered the phone call from your Dad, and the little monster decided it was good fingerpaint? Do you ever feel like the most you've eaten in weeks is cold chicken nuggets, spoonfuls of mac and cheese, swiped spoonfuls of nutella, and gol-darn-it, your "best" yoga pants are getting tight? Do you feel like the only mom who rushes her kids through target with a time-saving list based on how the store is laid out, but you still end up with a screaming toddler, a missing 4 year old, and a kid whining for lego sets while you look longingly at the coffee leisurely carried by the fabulous put-together business woman with a gorgeous hair blowout wearing boots carrying a Target basket under her arm containing beautiful stationery that won't get torn to shreds by the runt, beautiful woolly socks not claimed by the teenager, fancy shampoo that won't get used as bubble bath by the 4 year old, and organic berries that won't get thrown at the kids in the backseat as "hush food" on the way home? Do you find smashed crackers and sticky suckers stuck in the fibers of your brand new rug that you *just* bought and vow to torture and kill the inventor of Dum Dum suckers? Do you clean out your vehicle and find the answer to the ungodly smell was a rotten cheese stick, 345 stiff french fries, 3 greyish brown limp socks, a fistful of goldfish crackers, and a flaccid yogurt tube? Do you stumble to your bedroom, bleary-eyed, after the 186th narration of "The excavator digs" and the 24th cup of water and the 7th retelling of the reason why Sarah at school is a mean poopy head and they are NOT BFF's anymore, and find out that your kids were actually dumping glitter in your rugs when you thought they were actually being nice and playing quietly? Do you ever feel alone in the trenches of motherhood?

You're not alone. Us mothers feel like we fight a lonely fight on the homefront, defending our sanity and our individuality as women, trying to resist succumbing to the mom-jean wearing, teddy bear sweatshirt wearing, PTA volunteering, bake sale baking, stained zombie shadows of our former selves.

I'm there with you. This is "The Blur." Everything seems to be spinning out of control, so fast, and the days go by way too quickly.
I still wear my maternity robe, even though my youngest is over 2 years old. I haven't had a "hairstyle" other than a bun or ponytail in over 10 years. My favorite pants? 100% stretchy. I have a permanent worry line in the center of my forehead. I don;t wear jewelry because earrings may get pulled out of my ears, necklaces may choke me or break from a toddler pulling on my neck, and rings, including my wedding ring might scratch tender skin during a diaper change. I have forgotten to change out of my stained, holey, saggy butt sweat pants when rushing out the door to pick up milk for the 2 year old who still! takes a bottle at night. I rush to put a healthy home cooked meal on the table each and every night because all the magazines and books say that family meals are so important, even though it takes 2 hours to make, and 10 minutes of sometimes unbearable family togetherness and chaos to wolf down.

I get it. I'm not going to even add the obligatory line in posts like this- you know the one- "But it's ok, the hugs and kisses make up for all of it.." Because you know what? After a really hard, challenging, looong day, sometimes it doesn't.
Sometimes you still want to run away. To Mexico. Away from to-do lists and homework, and boy scouts and bake sales and sports practice and driver's ed and family dinners and trying to look sexy for your husband on 4 hours of interrupted sleep and being patient with the dog who rips apart the garbage and scatters it throughout the yard and trying to dress your kids like the adorable pictures of your mom friends' kids you see on Facebook, and trying to do cool crafts like the moms you see on Pinterest......all while looking at your children lovingly like the Rice Krispie commercials...
You know what? It's ok if you still want to run away. It's ok if your life isn't picture perfect. That's ok. It's really ok. It doesn't make you a horrible mom. It makes you a real one. And just to pop the hole in that perfection balloon, no mom has it all together, even if it appears that way. It's time to shatter that illusion.