Where is the Manual

Last night I mopped the floor while listening, okay jamming out to my ipod. I realized half way through that it had been almost a year since I'd done that. Come to think of it, the last time was when I was pregnant with C and I fell down while mopping.
So, I am mopping and listening to music and thinking about when H was a baby and my husband was in Iraq. I had this nightly ritual. Henry and I would eat around 1700, I was doing weight watchers, so I was starving by 1700. I would bathe Henry and put him to bed around 1900. Then I would jump on the treadmill for a run. Afterwards I would mop the floors. I don't think I would mop every night, but maybe every other. The point is I did something for myself every day. Fast Forward we have moved two more times and have two more children and I am struggling to keep toe nail polish on. I don't do anything every night other than try to keep the disaster that is my house at bay.
I swear it seems like just yesterday I was sitting in my apartment at college making macaroni and cheese after I'd been out drinking. I always made mac and cheese before I went to sleep to try and keep from having a hang over the next day. All of the sudden I am an Army wife and mother of three small children. I used to have a brain. I used to study and go to school. I used to have the entire world open to me. Now I can hardly get to the grocery store, incidentally I haven't been to the grocery store in over a week. We are starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel for dinner. I don't remember what happened. Oh that's right, this guy asked me to marry him. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids, I love being a mom. Today at preschool, H's teacher told me some really great things about him and how he is doing. It was so wonderful.
What drives me crazy is that I feel like I have lost myself. I used to wear cute clothes and great shoes. I used to read novels and drive a really sexy car. Now my clothes are rarely even clean. I drive a minivan that is totally cluttered up with stuff. I read romance novels because reading them does not involve thinking. I feel like I am just getting by.
I think I missed the part where they handed out the manual where the rules were written out. Like, some women will hardly gain an ounce during pregnancy, while others will blow up like some one put an air hose in their mouths. You will not see fellow air hose women, you will only know the tiny petite women. I went to a picnic for my husband's new job. I swear all of the other wives were tiny and dressed very nicely. I was wearing my summer uniform, Capri's and a v neck t-shirt. How did I miss the train? Where the hell was the manual, class, memo whatever that explained how the hell you are supposed to be mother, wife, chef, maid, plumber, mechanic, chauffeur, laundry wench, etc and still keep wear fashionable clothes and have a cute hair style. AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
I guess for starters I can make a nightly date with my ipod and my mop.