I’ve been in a bit of a rut lately. I honestly feel like I’ve lost my mom mojo.

You know, the little bit of life left in you that makes you a great mom some days and gives you the energy to plan a Batman-themed party for your kid’s upcoming birthday. The one that makes you want to actually clean out the diaper bag and scrub tiny little hand prints off the walls.

I feel like I’ve been in this rut for a few months. Like lately I’ve always been the mean mom that yells at her kids too much and constantly has resting bitch face. I entered the “I can’t even” zone a while back. My eyes are in constant “mom eye” mode.

And it sucks. I hate it. I don’t want to be tired and angry ALL the time. I mean, it’s okay to be tired and angry but I try to keep it at a 60% max.

So I drank some of that Kool-Aid that those good moms call Pinterest a week or so ago. I decided to look up some “mom hacks” to make my life easier. To help me get out of my rut.

Someone once told me that cleanliness and organization bring a calming effect to the home.

Actually, I heard it when I was watching an episode of Weeds but it has stuck with me for at least ten years.

So I pulled out my trusty iPhone 6 Plus with the semi-cracked screen and brought up my Pinterest app. If it had been a book there would have been dust on it. I typed in “mom hacks” and hoped for the best. I mean, hacks are supposed to make life easier, right?

So the first few I came across were hard no’s. Like, I didn’t even consider them. I laughed out loud thinking maybe it was a joke.

So here’s the deal. People really wash their kids toys in the washer. I can’t even get my family’s clothing in the washer. How the hell am I supposed to find a mesh bag and gather all the damn legos from the playroom to give them a quick spin the washer? Most of those legos have Batman stickers on the side of them and I’ll be damned if i’m scraping those things off. Hard pass. Hard freaking bad mom mojo pass.

My next hard pass was keeping a binder for all instruction manuals for board games and Lego packs. Who the F has time for this shit? I mean, I 100% bow down to the mom that accomplishes these things. But I don’t even know where my taxes from two years ago are.  I know they are in the so called office/junk room upstairs, but I would need at least 30 minutes to find them. I’m lucky if I can scrounge up my kid’s birth certificate in the next year so he can play some sort of organized sport.

Then I stumbled upon minimalism. It’s all the rage. Get rid of the clutter. Donate the items in your home that don’t bring you joy or serve a purpose. I thought this one was a jackpot. I can jump on a good bandwagon. I have some friends that have done it and they had great results. Plus, I had been meaning to clean out my closet for about 15 years and it just hadn’t happened.

So on a Saturday morning, I threw the kids in my mid-sized SUV, headed to Starbucks, ordered my usual “biggest size” coffee with an extra shot of espresso and got to work. I cleaned out at least 20 items in the first five minutes. I started a “Closet Sale” Facebook group, took photos of my clothes, posted them with descriptions in my group, realized it had been two hours and I needed to feed the baby.

I posted an optimistic message in the group about being back soon with more clothes, shoes and accessories and got ready to feed the baby. That led to feeding my preschooler. Which led to a game of Cooties. And building a tower of unwashed legos. Then it was nap time for the kids and I realized I was freaking exhausted. I started laundry, picked the house up as much as I could, turned on DeeDee – my robot vacuum – and hit the couch.

About two weeks later I realized I had completely forgotten about my Facebook group.

I don’t even have the energy to be a minimalist people. The only minimalism I do is that I consistently do the minimum to keep my home from burning down.

So if you claimed clothes in my Facebook group, you will get them one day. It might be best if you just stop by with some cash.

If you wash your child’s toys in a mesh bag in the washer, come do my laundry instead.

If you have made a binder of instruction manuals for board games, you probably don’t want to be my friend because my life is a dumpster fire compared to yours.

And if you are a minimalist that has efficiently rid your house of all the things that don’t bring you joy, I will gladly pay you top dollar to come minimize over here.

Until Next Time,

Jamie