Leaky Ceilings & All the Feelings

“Mom!” “Mommy!” “Ma!” “Moooooom!” “Maamaaaaa!” “Muuuum!” I call it the “call of the wild” and it’s a familiar sound around my home. It doesn’t matter where I am, what day of the week it is, or what’s going on at any given moment, odds are, someone needs me. Don’t misunderstand me — the neediness of my kids is something that is innately precious to me. But for the looooooove it can wear a person down, ya-know-what-I’m-sayin’?

As a mom of five (I call them little monsters), I am familiar with all the feelings that come along with being someone’s mom. There are, well, a lot of them. I also know I feel a heck of a lot better when I hear stories from other parents about the raw-ness of parenthood. It’s like standing in solidarity with how difficult raising good humans can be. So I’m starting a series all about living in the trenches of motherhood. Grab a glass of wine and join me.

Life in the Trenches of Motherhood

I have a monkey on my back…and you know something? They don’t warn you about how your kids automatically view you as a 24-7 playground from birth, basically. They are also born with an incredible Spidey-sense of knowing and taking advantage of the most inconvenient moments to release their physical energy. “Oh, mom is sitting on the couch with a full cup of coffee and her laptop? *thinks to self – this is my moment* CANNONBALL!!!”

You can just imagine how that scenario ends — kid uncontrollably flailing through the air, me making a desperate attempt to save both the computer and the coffee — choosing in the end to sacrifice all for the coffee, giving myself whiplash in the process. This is why I’ll always need a good chiropractor on speed dial.

Life in the Trenches of Motherhood: One Leak Too Many

Speaking of a good chiropractor, kids can be a pain in the neck. I mean this in the most loving way possible. My most recent “pain in the neck” incident quite literally put my neck out of place (like, I still can’t look to my right). We’re trying to sell our house right now. So, you know, it would be a big help if the basic structure of the house could remain in tact. I don’t think that’s *too* much to ask.

Truly, I don’t have high expectations, here. It’s a struggle to keep the house picked up from one day to the next and you can forget about “clean” most days. But I pride myself on never having burned the house down (besides that one close call during a controlled burn on a windy day…) and at the end of the it all, we have a beautiful roof over our heads that I know will be a great place for a new family to call home.

That is, we *did* until a few unfortunate water incidents left a hole in our kitchen ceiling right in the middle of trying to “put our best foot forward” during house showings — insert appropriate expletive(s), here. AHHHHH!

Patience: The Virtue this Mama Ain’t Got

If I’ve told them once I’ve told them FIFTEEN TIMES — don’t. splash. water. on. the. floor. If you do, THE FLOOR WILL COLLAPSE AND ALL YOUR PRECIOUS POSSESSIONS WILL BE SUCKED INTO AN ENDLESS ABYSS OF NO RETURN (full disclaimer, I *do* have a flair for the dramatics)!

Dramatics aside, we try to let the kids have a good time. They like bathing in our bathroom because it’s awesome! They love the oversized clawfoot tub and the rain head shower with the handheld sprayer. Anyway, I made the mistake of running a bath and leaving them unsupervised. Pretty soon, I heard shouts of overenthusiastic merriment, bodies sliding and splashing, and the unmistakeable sound of gallons of water sloshing over board.

On another day, Abbey snuck off to an upstairs bathroom for a little science experiment. She wanted to test what would happen if she stuffed an entire roll of toilet paper into the sink and left the water running. The results of her experiment? Enough water to flood the floor and come raining down into the kitchen through the Sonos speaker system. Thank you, Abbey.

Most recently, the little monsters went to hose off following a day of outdoor activities and soccer games. They were smelly and I (being the doting mother I am) shooed them upstairs to rinse off their stink. It wasn’t five minutes before I heard screams and walked into a lively game of spray tag — the floor was drenched. It took a few days before the damage became apparent and (of course) we had a call for a showing as we realized that our ceiling was in dire need of repair. Y.i.k.e.s.

In the Trenches: Can I Phone A Friend?

This was one of many moments Derek and I tried to figure it out on our own. I think that’s something most people try to do — as a parent, you want to be able to solve your own problems and deal with whatever life throws at you because that’s the grown up thing to do, right?

So, You take all of the frustration, anger, and exhaustion and try to hammer it out by yourself because we (collectively) value the idea of independence and autonomy. Maybe we’re embarrassed to ask for help because it makes us turn inward and realize that we’re not as perfect or as “able” as we want to be. Or it could be that we’re worried about how we look from the outside — never wanting to appear weak or incapable of taking care of our own problems.

The Rainbow at the End of the Leaky Ceiling…

But the thing is, living in the trenches of motherhood (parenthood) is kind of like our leaky ceiling. We hold it all together until, drip by drip, the stresses begin to wear us away, leaving us with a whole host of potential problems. Sure, we can patch it up ourselves but sometimes, those problems require us to ask for help. In this case, I phoned a friend (enter Kate the Great again) who helped find us a fix for our little (kinda big) ceiling issue.

It’s worth nothing that our oldest took all the responsibility he could muster for this little hiccup. We could tell that he was feeling our frustration. And we *are* frustrated. It’s a big chunk of money we would rather not be spending right now and it’s frustrating. But he’s always been keenly in tune to what we’re feeling. This is another reason it’s so important to ask for help when you’re feeling overwhelmed. The kids are always watching — soaking in how we respond to life stressors.

Yesterday, he quietly shut himself inside the classroom and emerged an hour or so later with a gorgeous rainbow affixed with bright puffballs. He handed it to me as if to say “I’m sorry – will this make you feel better?” Our leaky ceiling situation ended with a rainbow (literally) and while this mama is feeling worn out and ready for a break, I’m oddly grateful for our leaky ceiling and the lessons that came with it. If you’re living in the trenches of motherhood like I am, know that you’re not alone. Solidarity sistas (& brothers) and until next time, peace, love, & light.