I'm a Desperate Housewife

Last night I felt like Mother Hubbard. I went to my cupboard and realized we had nothing. No milk. No fruit. No cheese. No eggs. No noodles. No peanut butter. No bread. No chicken tenders. I happened to be on the phone as I was contemplating dinner and when I shared with my friend my situation she sent her husband over with some food. I was embarrassed but thankful for Eggo waffles and eggs.

So today we set out for the Commissary. Over $300 later we returned home. $80 of that is baby formula and dog food...just think how wealthy we would be without babies or dogs. The bareness of my fridge emphasized its need for a cleaning. So as a car payments worth of groceries sat on the floor thawing to room temperature something came over me and possessed me to unassemble my entire refrigerator. You may think I'm exaggerating but if there was a piece of the refrigerator that was removable I had it in the sink in soapy water. An hour later and a close call with a slippery glass shelf my refrigerator looked like it had just rolled off the Sears show room floor and into my kitchen.

Not only is it clean but it is organized. All my coffees and creamer sare on one shelf. My condiments are nicely organized in the door according to category. Apparently I should have done this awhile ago as I realized I have 4 open mustard containers. I could go on about how nice and new my refrigerator looks and how I can't decide what to make for dinner because there are so many choices...but that would just emphasize the other side of the coin...how pathetic it is that I'm this excited about my clean refrigerator and how much I enjoyed the process.

The fact that I spent my afternoon engrossed in an activity that Bree Van de Kamp would be proud of is rather unnerving to me. Have I lost myself to this degree as a result of four months of evening conversations with three children under five? Is this what a 120 can do to an otherwise relatively sane stay at home mom. Perhaps my clean refrigerator is a mental safe zone. It's my area...free from little ones that tear through a room leaving destruction and debris in a previously spotless environment. I feel in control, of something...even if it just is how I organize the yogurt and whether or not I put the juice in the door or on a shelf. The food cooperates, I don't have to tell it twice, and it stays that way until I decide further!

I'm not sure if I'll color my hair red but I am sensing a greater need to reconnect with the me inside the Mom, too. I'm afraid further hair coloring would damage whatever remaining brain cells I have after three pregnancies in the past five years...so I may have to find another way to stretch myself. But as my friend Lisa so eloquently wrote,

"I love being a mom, but that's not the sum total of who I am. There's so much more to ME than that. I am starting to see a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, flickering ever so slightly as the girls get a little bit older. I never want to be less than a mom, but I certainly want to be more than that. My girls deserve to grow up with a good example of what it's like to be a whole person."

Ditto girlfriend. Do you need a back up singer?