The Potato Theory

potatoes-vegetables-field-eat-51157.jpegWhen I woke up this morning, I woke up tired, and there really was no reason for it, Miss six has always been an awesome sleeper, and master 9 months had a good night. but today was a day that I would refer to like a ‘mash’ day. This makes no sense to anyone’s brain but mine, but for some weird reason I have began to compare my days to the versatility of a potato. My days can be mashed, baked, fried, and sometimes crispy. I know people will probably think it weird to compare myself to a farinaceous good, but this is my current situation of being a full-time stay at home mum (SAHM).
So today was a ‘mashed’ day, these are the days I wake up feeling completely drained, and it was looking to be a monotonous day of routine. Please don’t get me wrong I love being a mum and wife but today is just one of those days that you do what you have to do to keep everyone happy, fed and alive. These are also days of reflection of where I was going in life, what would I be doing if I wasn’t here theories and general over thought on all subjects. So mash days are pretty average but they do come around every now and then, and with the assistance of chocolate and a sneaky wine they go as fast as they arrive.
Now waking up to a ‘baked’ day is much more appealing, and it has nothing at all to do with any illegal substance. These days are much more productive, these days are the days that I wash the sheets, towels, and anything not nailed down. these are the days I attempt to fold a fitted sheet and bake a three-tiered sponge cake, and prepare a three course meal and healthy food options for the baby. On ‘baked’ days the floor may get a good mop, and the windows a clean. These days are the days that I strive to be the super mum’s I have seen portrayed in books holding up the sponge cake in my blue pin tucked apron and smiling like a crazed idiot. However I refer to these days as ‘baked’ days for a reason, and that is at the end of the day I am spent, and it could possibly take up to three days to recover just from one ‘baked’ day. After a good ‘baked’ day I go to bed satisfied with my days achievements but I can confidently say these days may only happen once a week.
Fried days are just like they sound, they are the days that I get nothing accomplished, these are the days that Miss six is still eating toast on the way to the school bus stop, Master nine months eats food out of brought pouches or bread and Vegemite. Tea could be a frozen pizza or something chiseled out of the freezer at the last-minute, that I am never fully sure what it is until it is fully defrosted ( surprise). The house work is put on the back burner, and the bed may get pulled up if it’s lucky. Fried days are the pits, they are my most unproductive days, but the upside is on these days I seem to have quality one on one time with the baby, and maybe get a snooze to help build up the ‘sleep bank’ a little bit, just so I can function as a human being for the next few days. Several years ago I heard a lady on the radio ring up and tell the story of how she went shopping unaware she had a fork with noodles wound around it in the back of her pony tail that her darling daughter had stuck in there, at that time I thought it was hilarious, and how on earth would she not know, now I think back to that story and realise it was definitely a ‘fried’ day, and I sympathise whole heartedly with her.
I can confidently say that any red-blooded women has a ‘crispy’ day every now and then. I instantly know it’s going to be a ‘crispy’ day when I wake up and everything is wrong, my husband is still asleep while I am awake and he’s breathing really loud (or is it the fact he’s breathing it takes a while for me to decide). Now you can understand about ‘crispy’ days, the whole family suffers through a ‘crispy’ day, but these days can’t be helped. these are the days that the cat will vomit for no apparent reason on the floor, Master nine months nappy doesn’t hold the direct assault he has given it, Miss six remembers at breakfast that they are having a pooled morning tea and needs a cake, the Husband gets a flat tyre out in a paddock in the far right end, close to the left side of the park, through a wire gate, past the fallen tree, down a small dirt track turn 45 degrees heading straight, where the sheep were that I helped moved last November, count 15 rabbit burrows and three kangaroos and he is about six kilometers away, also can I bring a drink and something to eat when I pick him up . These are the days you go to cook tea, and realise you’re missing the key ingredient, or you discover you ran out of washing powder, and what you thought was the extra box is the box of soap flakes you brought seven years ago in the environmental friendly phase, that you have and never will use, but forget they are in there. Crispy days are the days that family communication is limited because they all avoid me like the plague, but showers and bedtime are done with little or no persuasion from any parties involved.
In-between all these different potato cooking styles are the days that I am just a potato, a good average versatile ‘spud’, that goes through life being a stay at home mum, providing for the family, loving my life, kids, Husband and friends.
Being a stay at home mum was never on my radar, and I respect and admire all the amazing women out there who have decided to be SAHM, it’s hard, it’s a 24 hour job, there is no clocking on or off function, and your job description is long and vast, you are a Partner, Mother, Home duties co-ordinator, Chef, Finance Officer, Inventory manager, Executive assistant, Doctor ,Nurse, Psychologist, Educator, Work health and safety officer, Administration officer, Communications officer, Mechanic, Vet, Disciplinary Officer and prolific in conflict resolution . A stay at home mum’s resume reads better than any high-profile position available, you are experienced in everything and a master of all. You are thrown into the position with little or no training, and your subjects don’t get delivered with a training manual.
I know how lucky I am to have a partner in crime and assistance in bringing up a family to the best of our abilities, but I often think of how hard it would be for single parents, they have my utmost respect, I personally feel like I would lose my mind if I was unable to offload a child on my Husband every now and then. Parents of multiple births I can’t comprehend how they do it, they must have the most amazing super human powers available they also have my utmost respect.
Parents are exceptional people and they are all doing amazing jobs, it’s so important they know this. In my case I am a strong advocate of the ‘potato theory’ and will happily work my way through every form of cooking a potato if it helps me to succeed in raising a happy healthy family, and be happy and content in myself! this theory may sound a little crazy to all the sane individuals out there and could potentially be blamed partially on sleep deprivation and a few ‘fried’ days!

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