Feeling lost as a Stay-At-Home Mom

This morning my kids got up at the usual 5 a.m. I'm not exaggerating. For some reason, since they were babies, they've been waking at 5 a.m. 

Anyway, that's not the story. The story is that to occupy my 3 year old son, my 7 year old daughter got out the moon sand.  It doesn't look as bad in this pic as in real life. To get each of those toys, my son ran his little body covered in sand each time to his playroom. Through the living room. With rugs and things that shouldn't see sand. Like leather couches.

After spending an hour sweeping, vacuuming, and wiping up moon sand, I know that someday when I'm 90 years old, lying on the floor in the kitchen, frantically pressing my life alert button because I've fallen and I can't get up, I will be finding the devil's piss moon sand wedged under the cabinets.

Well, by the time I was done cleaning, I was in a bad place. Most of you moms know the place. A place where everyone knows your name- Ha, now the Cheers theme song is playing in my head. Anyway, It's all too familiar.  

You feel like all you do is clean, all you are good for is to wipe up dry sticky milk and cheerios that someone left on the table. Your only value is finding and wiping up some unidentified smelly green slime out of the back of the refrigerator. Your only merit is cleaning up the cemented toothpaste smears all over the counter....every morning. Your only virtue is cleaning out the overflowing junk drawer and realizing that small victory is the only tangible thing you've accomplished all say, amid breaking up fights, changing diapers, giving baths and picking up the legos under the couch for the 502nd time. You feel like you lose your identity slowly over lost socks, permission slips, dust bunnies, bottles, and late night feedings. I feel like my only value these days is the cleanliness of my house, and trying to make good dinners for the family. I feel like I'm being forced every day to clean up after a party that I really wanted to go to, but no one invited me. I feel honestly like no one sees me. Like the house magically gets clean, everyone is magically fed, and everything runs like clockwork with no one seeing the underpaid hamster desperately running the wheel inside that clock, keeping everything going.

I feel like since I don't have validation in the form of a paycheck, or quarterly reviews, what I do all day doesn't matter. 

I know it's not true, but I feel that way sometimes. Life runs away with you when you are a stay at home mom. It really does. Time really has no meaning anymore. It seems as if the days run together. As me what day it is, and honestly, unless it's the relief of school starting again on a precious Monday, I won't know. 

I get it. I know how you feel. I'm a veteran stay at home mom. I've been staying at home now for 8 years. I haven't peed in peace in my own home since my first child was born, 16 years ago. Ok, there's been a few times since then. But not many. To have a nice "bathroom break" now, I need to lock my bedroom door, then run into the bathroom and lock that door too. Then I crank the fan, and frantically play candy crush until I'm done. Motherhood has made me a champion fast pooper. If only there was a poop olympics, I'd feel good at something. At least I'd have a medal!

I've also been a working mom and I tell ya, that's a whole 'nother blog post. I'll get to that someday. 

Anyway, my point to this is, if you're a SAHM, know that you're not the only one who feels this way. All of us do at one point. And if you don't, you're obviously some golden unicorn barfing butterflies everywhere and you have no purpose here.

So, I want to hear what you do to help combat these feelings. Myself? I pedal furiously on my exercise bike while the kids watch Dora. Furiously. I bought a bike computer to see just how much my frustration equaled into miles traveled, and it turns out that clearing my head and feeling whole again has the energy equivalent of 20 miles per hour.........

I guess I really am kind of like the hamster on the wheel. 

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.