ROCK BOTTOM, 50 FEET OF CRAP, and then ME

We've all been there, right?  Some days every awful thing in life hits us all at once.  Why does this have to happen?!  Why can't bad days just take a hike and never visit us again?  Ugh.

Unfortunately, they are a guarantee in life.  As a mom, when bad days strike the last thing I want to do is take care of the family, my job, or even the Guinea pig.  I want to dig a hole and never return.  If you're like me, no matter your age sometimes you just want your mom...and maybe a blanket.

Adulting is hard.

So what do we do?

Well, like many of you, I am a survivor of awful days.  Though I can't figure out how to avoid them completely (if I ever do make that discovery, I promise to share it with the ENTIRE world...) but I can say with confidence, I made it through.  And, because you're reading this, I now know you also have a 100% survival rate as well.  But in the moment -- during the day -- is there ANYTHING we can do to make it better?

I think so.

In fact the other day, I was having one of "THOSE" days.  My "50 feet of crap days" usually start off with a BAM! first thing in the morning.  On this particular day, the septic hot line had already started ringing at 6:30 am as I was still trying to get my kids up, fed, and ready for school.  During this time the cat decided to puke on the carpet, my youngest was running around complaining about what pants he could wear, my oldest informed me of a test he "forgot about," and the husband and I were exchanging some frustrated words towards one another.  At 6:31, it was clear that my one pot of coffee was not going to cut it -- it was gonna be an intravenous caffeine day.

On this bad day, these conversations ensued:

PW:  Mom?  Please don't be mad, but I KINDA forgot to tell you about a test I had last night when we were doing homework.
ME:  WHAT?!  When is it?
PW:  Today, but we can just study on the way to school
(commence company phone ringing in background...)
ME:  PW depending on the test, I doubt that is going to fully prepare you for your test, but we'll do what we can...
JUNIOR:  MOM!!!!!!!  I don't have any pants again!  (It's Wednesday...I did the laundry on Monday and he has 5 pair of jeans, three pairs of sports pants, and countless sports shorts but in two days he knows how to trash all of them...)
ME:  I JUST did laundry, you should have PLENTY of pants.
JUNIOR:  Well, I don't.  You need to do laundry again.
ME:  (taking deep breaths in hopes extra oxygen will keep me from murdering my child before 8 am as I really don't have time for jail today....) You're either going to have to put on dirty ones, wear sports pants, or shorts.  But BOTH of you have got to get downstairs to eat because the car is leaving for school in about 25 minutes!!

I made my way downstairs to meet an unhappy husband who is also my co-worker in this wonderful septic business we own.

HUSBAND:  Where are the job tickets you made yesterday?
ME:  I put them where I always do
HUSBAND: Well, they aren't there and they weren't there last night either.
ME:  I do the same thing every day.  I will look for them after I get back from taking the kids to school, if nothing else I will make new ones
HUSBAND:  Well, just find them and get them to me
(Fortunately, the nagging phone is still ringing which makes every tense conversation much more irritating.  Add to it the exciting world of running a business and sharing an office space with your spouse and you have good times raining down everywhere!!)

Now just so you think I'm not the worst office manager for our business, our office doesn't officially open until 8 am.  I answer EVERY call  during our normal business hours from 8am-5pm as it is posted in all our ads, on our website and recorded on our voicemails.  All other calls can leave a message if they are not calling during business hours and usually they do -- but still, there are mornings when I feel like everyone with a septic tank joins in a unified effort to annoy the crap (no pun intended...) out of me before 7:00 am.  

As I headed out the door this particular morning, I wondered how feasible it would be to catch a flight to Jamaica before noon.

This was just one morning in particular, but you get the drift.  It starts off wrong and then takes a straight dive down to the pit of "all things awful."  Anything else that happens the rest of the day frustrates you all the more.  A paper cut becomes grounds for mental ward admittance.  And, if you didn't sleep well or have other stressful issues vying for your thoughts, you feel like you're drowning and God keeps pouring more water on you and your oar-less boat.

So, what do you do?  I believe 3 things are key:

1)  TAKE BABY STEPS
My sister-in-law once told me when she had stressful days, she would tell herself, "just do the next thing."  You don't have to conquer the world, just the next task.  Sometimes that task is simply putting on your pants.  Maybe it's unloading the dishwasher.  Whatever it is, start small.  Approach the day with "baby steps."  If you've ever seen the movie "What About Bob?"  You get the drift.  (If not, just click here for a quick clip of the movie.)  Seriously, baby steps can solve almost all your problems.

2) REMEMBER TO BE THANKFUL
The second thing I have to do is dispel all worry.  This is hard for me.  Worry sucks but for some reason I have a hard time showing it the door.  I remember my grandma telling me, "Worry is like a rocking chair, it keeps you busy but you never get anywhere."  Truer words were never spoken.  Still, it plagues me.  The only thing I have found that kicks worry in the gut is thankfulness.  A few years ago we were hosting a 4th of July party for my husband's family.  The morning of, I received some awful news.  I had to pull myself together, fix food, clean the house and have a smile planted firmly on my face before 6 pm.  My attitude was crap and the last thing I wanted to do was "the next thing."  But, nothing motivates a girl like people coming for dinner so I pushed through.  As I cleaned the house, I started telling myself how thankful I was for my end tables.  Yes, end tables.  Some people have no home, and I have a home with end tables.  This thankfulness journey moved on to lamps, beds, toilets and even the pee stains surrounding them.  As much as I hate cleaning those stains up, they are proof I have two healthy boys who love me.  Soon I was on a thankfulness landslide.  So long worry.  Hello happy.

3) PRAY
Though I mention this last, it is not because praying is at the bottom of the list, but rather the most important item on the list.  Praying changes my mindset.  It reminds me I'm not under this 50 feet of crap alone.  I have a higher power looking out for me who desperately wants to help me through this bad day.  I truly believe God gives us trials and bad days to draw us closer.  We typically don't turn to Him when life is all bunny rabbits and rainbows.  Praying is our lifeline from beneath rock bottom.  It's like "Hello God?  Yeah, it's Jaime again.  Boy am I in a mess!  Can you help a girl out?" And there is He is, right by your side.

Bad days are awful.  Like them or not, they are guaranteed to happen again and again.  But if we take God at His word, He is faithful to help us through them.  Below I have added some scriptures that lift me up when I'm struggling.  I hope they will lift you up too!!

James 1:2-3
Consider it pure joy my brothers whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  

Philippians 4:6-7
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus

THE LIFE OF A BOY MOM

Today after playing outside on our acreage, my boys came in the house to show me a "disovery!"

PW: (truly excited and holding something fuzzy and bloody in his hand) MOM!  Look what Junior and I found!!  We think Marty (our stinky hound dog) must have killed a coyote or raccoon or rabbit!!  Look what was left behind!!

ME: (observing the bloody fluff in his hand and wondering WHY he thought he needed to touch it AND bring it in my house)  I see!!  Well, I'm not sure what kind of animal this came from, but how about we throw it back out side and you go wash your hands immediately in Chlorox?

PW:  I can just throw it away in the trash here Mom.

ME:  PW, I'd rather we make a rule that all dead animal carcasses or pieces of carcass stay outside

PW:  Oh, okay.  And then I just have to wash my hands and I'm good?

JUNIOR:  (piping up)  PW, you don't want to get rabies, right Mom?

ME:  Yep! (thankful at least one of them remembered a "dead animal conversation" we'd had)

This is a tiny example of a boy mom's life.  Don't get me wrong -- I LOVE my boys!!  I love their curiosities, excitement, energy levels, imaginations and total sincerity in life.  Yet, there are days when I can't help but think, "I wonder if the mother of a girl has ever had dead animal parts in her house..."

This is not to say I don't enjoy their raw outlook on life -- and all things dead and decaying.  I LOVE the out-door-sy-ness of my boys.  I love the outdoors!  I love baseball and science experiments and leaves and bugs and weird stuff found outside!!  BUT, I am girl who also likes a clean house, clean car, clean rooms, and all messes cleaned up promptly after being made.  I'm sure there are plenty of girls who like many of the same things my boys like, but when I talk to moms of girls their lives seem so much different.  There's more "pretty" in it.  We do not have "pretty" here.  We have fun, but definitely not "pretty!"

Just to give you an idea of what I'm talking about, here is a list of things that are currently established or happening in our house...

Junior has a piece of bone he discovered sitting on his dresser, because nothing says "classy" like dead animal parts.

We have frequent "handling instructions" in regards to the touching dead animals or their remaining decaying pieces.  These instructions are usually "DO NOT TOUCH," "PLEASE DO NOT BRING INTO HOUSE" or "IF YOU HAVE TOUCH, TO PLEASE USE A SHOVEL"

PW has all his belts fastened together in some sort of a pulley-device-contraption in his room.  What this is to be used for, I'm not quite sure.

Both their rooms (despite my best cleaning efforts) always have a touch of that "smelly feet" aroma...usually because they often get their shoes wet when walking outside.  We hold tightly to the philosophy of "Why avoid mud or water when you can walk right through it?"  The fact that I haven't bought stock in Odor Eaters yet is beyond me...

The latest joke at the dinner table is to say "Curious George, brought to you today by MY FARTS!" as many times as possible.  It is to date the funniest thing ever....evidently.

There are constant reminders that running in the house, jumping on the beds, throwing balls at the wall, and sliding down the stairs on Rubbermaid lids are NOT indoor activities.  Much debate and protest has ensued but the ruling still stands.  

Closets are an "open at your own risk" kind of activity.  

It is no big deal to walk around half naked or scratch ones self at any given point in time during the day.  

Sticky handles exist EVERYWHERE.

This is the house of a boy mom.  I clean and scrub and organize and within 20 minutes its as if my efforts never existed.  I keep them as groomed and showered as possible but, it often feels like the amount of effort I put into making them look good never truly presents itself when we are in public -- you know, where people with eyes can see us?  I work daily to keep my house picked up and clean though it is a never ending chore.  I constantly feel like a woman standing in a rain storm trying to towel off and can't understand why she isn't dry yet.

I have dreams that someday they will wake up loving to take showers and running the vacuum for me, but I am guessing that day will arrive the same day I get my pet unicorn.  Until then, I will continue to love them dirty, wild and free.  Their messes frustrate me, but when they bring me wildflowers they've pulled while walking through the mud and yuck it's hard to be too upset.  Kind of even makes the stinky rooms worth it.

I'm a boy mom.

And I'm a lucky one at that.