I have had the pleasure of staying at home with all of my children for the past six years. I quit a job that I loved to care for little people whom I love even more. I am not saying that there are days…nor am I belittling those who have chosen to stay at work (there are times I want to be you), however, I have had a little bit of an easy road as a SAHM.
You see, Joe has been around. He worked from his office at home when we first had Anna and lived in town. He would travel a few days here and there, but that was do-able. Then, we moved to the farm, he quit that job, and became a farmer. His office is still on the first floor of our house (makes it sound like we live in a Taj Mahal, but really, just an old 2-story), and his “workplace” surrounds us. He’s in and out through the day, allowing me to traipse around, grocery shopping alone on days when it’s slow around here, as well as helping me get kids from here to there. I am lucky; I realize this. However, I am not saying that raising four kids under the age of six is cushy, it’s just that we’re a team.
However, harvest makes me realize how much I need my other teammate. I can’t do this alone, all the time. I am not a good mom, and especially not a great wife during this busy season. My husband, after working all day, is greeted every evening by my exhausted heap of a self on the couch. I know, romantic, huh? I’m surviving, not thriving during this time, and to those of you who do this on a regular basis…KUDOS. This stinks.
The first few nights, even a week, are fun. The kids and I eat pancakes with chocolate chips, like Daddy hates, snuggle for stories on my bed, and I get to watch my fill of primetime HGTV. However, once reality sets in and I am the one who is giving all the baths, doing all the homework, and refereeing all the fights do I wish I would have gotten my truck driver’s license. I wish I could escape to watch the combine do its thing, bringing in the crop that will pay for the online shopping I do because I can’t take all four kids to the Old Navy Baby Sale (heaven forbid I miss it!!).
Anyway, I sound whiny, and I don’t intend to, but harvest is wearing on me, and we are still in the same field we’ve been in since Friday. Yes, Friday. It’s not that big, it’s that down.
We are blessed with a bountiful yield average, even though the corn is going to be tricky to get out, so I need to keep that in mind as I grumble giving the fourth bath of the night. I need to remember how lucky I am, in February, when I don’t have to wake everyone up, bundle everyone up, and go meet the bus. I’m not alone, I’m just lonely at the moment.
However, everything is temporary. This feeling of loneliness is as temporary as the pumpkin display I have on my front porch and the Illini’s 5 and 0 record. Just as the pumpkins will be eaten by my dog and the Illini will soon lose, my loneliness will wane, giving way to wanting Joe to just get out of the house for an hour so I can watch HGTV without commentary.
This is all temporary. I can do this.