Treadmills

I really hate treadmills. I am infuriated by the feeling of running as fast and as hard as I possibly can and getting absolutely nowhere. Sure, my progress is being measured by a small digital screen, flashing incessantly before me the number of calories I have burned and the number of miles I have "traveled". But, when all is said and done; when I am wheezing like an 80-year-old woman and in serious need of a shower, I am still there, in the same spot I started, staring at the same wall or tv screen. I have often wondered if hamsters feel the same way when they run in their wheels. As a girl, I had a pet hamster, Hamlet (one of my favorite literary pet names of all time). At night, I would drift off to sleep to the sound of his wheel squeaking rhythmically every few seconds. When Hamlet was about three years old, he contracted some sort of hamster dementia. He didn't seem to realize who or where he was. He was skittish and just down right cranky. Looking back now, I'm pretty sure it was the wheel that drove him to madness (although I suppose I did kind of set him up for it by naming him Hamlet). Dirk and I actually owned a treadmill for about a year. Then, one of Dirk's coworkers offered to sell us a top of the line Foosball table for $50. The only spot for the Foosball table happened to be the spot the treadmill was currently residing in. It wasn't a hard decision. My brother-in-law was happy to take the treadmill off our hands.

Being a stay at home mom with young kids is like running on a treadmill. Hold on now......not so fast.....I am not implying that I hate being a stay at home mom. But there are some definite parallels. Laundry is one example. As a mother of three, I now typically do at least one load of laundry every single day but Sunday. Many days I do two or three loads. Given the frequency of the clothing being removed from the hamper for washing, one would think that at some point in time, the bottom of the hamper would be visible. Not so. Far from it. Despite my daily efforts at keeping it at bay, the laundry can often be seen overflowing the top of my little wicker hamper. Many days, the hamper and laundry basket are both full. I have to put away the clothing waiting in the basket before I can wash the ever present clothing in the hamper. Just like a treadmill.......constant exertion of energy, yielding no apparent result. I also exert a great deal of energy trying to keep the floor visible, with similar lack of result. A friend once described it this way to her husband: "Trying to keep a clean house with small children at home is like spending an entire day meticulously placing stakes for a fence, only to have them knocked over and having start from the beginning the next day." Being a stay at home mom can also sometimes feel like being trapped in the movie Groundhog's Day. Days blur together as the same mundane tasks are performed amid the same controlled chaos, day after day, after day after.....well, you get the point. Another reason being a stay at home mom is like running on a treadmill is because it is hard work. Very hard work. To the politician who recently claimed that Anne Romney hadn't worked a day in her life (she only raised five boys while battling breast cancer and MS), I add my voice to the backlash that has already been propelled by thousands of moms. I suppose there are stay at home moms out there who actually may sit and eat bon bons (why bon bons have somehow come to be associated with stay at home mothers, I have no idea. I think I tried one once in high school) and watch Days of Our Lives. I suppose these are the few who give us a bad name. But, I feel safe in presuming that the majority of stay at home moms work their butts off. I know I do. Though I may feel it is the truth many days, I also do not think it is fair to declare that being a stay at home mom is the "hardest job in the world".......most important, perhaps, but hardest? I can't honestly say. It is the only real job I have ever performed, aside from waitressing. I am sure many other jobs are also very physically, mentally, and emotionally taxing. I respect the work others do. Yet, so many times, mothers, like Anne Romney, are disrespected and criticized for "not working". Here is an example of a typical daily schedule in the life of this stay at home mom:

6:00- get up and do yoga to get "centered" for the day

7:00-get Morgan up (like waking a bear)

7:15-fix Morgan's hair

7:30-get breakfast on the table

8:00-clean breakfast up

8:30-depending on what day of the week it is, clean either bathrooms, floors, or dust

9:00-make sure Hyrum is dressed in seasonally appropriate clothing; feed Ryan

9:30 turn on Dinosaur Train for Hyrum; feed Ryan a bottle and put him down for a nap

10:00-shower

10:20-rescue Ryan, who is screaming after a 20 minute cat nap, from his crib.

10:30-get dressed

10:45-throw my hair in a ponytail and slap some makeup on my face, while Ryan tries to crawl up my leg

11:00-make lunch for Hyrum and myself

11:15 or 11:30-attempt to eat lunch while feeding Ryan

12:00 clean up the kitchen

12:15 or 12:30-separate laundry and throw a load in the wash

1:00-spend quality time with Hyrum

2:00-fold laundry and put away

2:30-greet Morgan; give the kids after school snack; help Morgan with homework, spelling words

3:00-give Ryan a bottle, get him down for a nap

4:00-help Morgan with piano

4:30-start prepping dinner

5:30-eat dinner

6:30-bathe kids

7:00-read to kids and put them to bed

7:30-give Ryan a bottle; put him to bed

8:00-breathe....and fold a little more laundry

9:00-try to console Morgan, who has apparently developed childhood insomnia, and can't fall asleep yet again

12:00-awake to Ryan's screaming and give him his binky

2:00-awake to Ryan's screaming and give him his binky

4:00-awake to Ryan's screaming and give him a bottle

6:00-get up and do yoga.............

and...........repeat

Nowhere in that schedule can I seem to find a wide open slot for bon bon consumption and Soap Opera viewing. Day after day after day, we stay at home moms work hard. We keep running and running, with no end in sight, staring at the same four walls. Days when children are sick or cranky, or extra loud, can feel like running with the treadmill on a steep incline. We clean and cook, console and chastise until we are emotionally drained. Yet, at the end of the day, when we finally take a moment to sit down and breathe, nothing apparent has changed. If one were to run on a treadmill for thirty minutes a day, every day, over time, you would see a change in that person. It would be almost imperceptible at first. But, after an extended period of daily treadmill running, that individual would not only appear more fit on the outside, but would be on the road to improving the condition of their heart, and their overall health. Looking back at my own childhood, I can see on my mother's face, the same look of blank exhaustion that covers my own many days. Worn out from running on the mommy mill day in and day out, she had to wonder if anything she exerted so much precious energy doing made a difference. Did it even matter? I can answer that. Here I sit, one of the three products of her tireless labor. I have a family of my own now....my own treadmill to run on. I found and married a man who treats me like gold because I felt that was what I deserved. I try to treat others with compassion, and I have an overall contentment with my life. As for the other two products of her labor: My sister is a successful attorney who graduated law school as one of the top in her class. She is kind and strives to do good in the world. My brother is one of the single most compassionate people I have ever met. Over time, the countless loads of laundry, the thousands of meals prepared, the hours upon hours of lost sleep, the stealth binky replacements in the middle of the night, all somehow added up to three individuals who have a relatively firm footing in a world that is spinning out of control. I hope the repetition of my mundane, daily routine will someday show similar results. On days when I wonder if any of it matters, I am reassured by a favorite scripture passage:

Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great.

So, my fellow, stay at home moms, let's keep on running. The result of our efforts may not be immediately apparent, but we are laying the foundation on which our children will build the rest of their lives, one bottle, one lullaby, one story book at a time. One more way motherhood is like running on a treadmill........it's good for your heart.:)