Having a hard time being "home"

Things have been so different since we moved back to Utah. I told Scott yesterday that it’s funny that when we lived in Montana that we called Utah home, now that we’re here we call Montana home.
I pictured things a lot different from what is happening.
It felt great to move away from family and what we called home, and make a new home for ourselves and our kids. In Montana I found myself. I found out who I was as a person, wife, mother, individual member of society, and I felt like I flourished. I was so happy there.
After everything that has happened this year coming back seemed like a great idea. I thought that coming back I would maybe have a little help with the kids so that I would have a little time to myself to reflect and meditate on what all has happened. I thought that like in Bozeman people would volunteer to give me a little help. I think that is what I miss most. My friends, my ward family and co-workers who were always willing to lend a helping hand, no matter how small.
Since we have come home, my ward family doesn’t know me very well to offer support, I don’t have any co-workers and MY family has been very little help. Yes my little sister did help me get my living space organized, but before it was done I was left with an active 21 month old that promptly marked his territory by getting out all his toys, so I have a hard time keeping it up. Also, being confined to the basement (which grandpa has told me I don’t have to be, but with nursing and nap time we spend a lot of our day down here.) I am desperate everyday to get out of the house, I try to make sure Ethan is getting enough exercise and exhausting all the pent up energy he has, but it is really hard to do when I’m in the middle of nursing David and Ethan wants me to take him to see the creek at John Adams Park, and if I don’t he starts going down the hill by himself no matter how many times I call him back, so I have two choices, I can either let him go by himself and hope he doesn’t fall in, not really a choice, so that leaves me with one choice, quit nursing, making David cry because he’s still hungry and go chase after Ethan, again giving him his own way.
I just feel like I’m failing because I don’t know how to get Ethan to listen to me, I don’t know if I’m talking to much to him, that he doesn’t hear my voice anymore, I just end up getting so frustrated with him. Then my mom tells me that I shouldn’t be frustrated because he communicates so well that he is never going to go through the terrible 2’s, according to her none of her children did the terrible 2’s. Then again according to her, she did everything right. She had 7 kids and was able to take care of them all by herself, and she me today that she doesn’t know what’s up with mothers these days, when she was having kids her generation didn’t have their mothers help, they just had kids and took care of them without any help, from anyone.
Ever since we have moved back she thinks she knows exactly what I’m going through, I make a comment and she says that she understands because she has been there, done that. But she doesn’t have a clue.
I know she had miscarriages, and that I have not, but I don’t think it is as devastating as knowing weeks before you are to give birth that your baby is going to die, she has never sat at the graveside of one of her children, yes maybe her grandchildren but not her own. So to say that she understands what I’m going through, she hasn’t got a clue.
I told her today that I just can’t understand how the day goes by so fast, it’s not like I’m sleeping in or being lazy, I start my day at least by 6:30 if not sooner, and before I know it, its 1:00 and time for Ethan’s nap, and I haven’t got very much accomplished, she then told me all the things that she did with her 2 children, who were closer together and were harder to take care of, how she was pregnant for the 3rd time by the time my oldest sister was Ethan’s age, how she had to boil chickens and rice to make formula, how she had to use cloth diapers, and somehow she managed.
I just don’t know why she wants me to feel like such a failure. Maybe she doesn’t, but that is how I feel.
She couldn’t have cared less when her parents passed away; I had built a good relationship with my dad before he passed away. If I make a comment about how much I appreciate Scott because he did something helpful or nice, she reminds me how bad her marriage was and rips on my dad then doesn’t stop there, but continues with Pam, my step-mom, who is a very nice person, and has the unfortunate task of finishing up the court issues that were going on before my dad passed. But she is mad because Pam is the one who did the homework for my dad. And my mom keeps saying that because of Pam we kids are not sharing my dads life insurance, well in my opinion, they were married whatever they decided to do with their finances was their business, I’m not going to hate Pam because she loved and was a wife to my dad. I can only think that my mom is so mad about all of this because Pam had the marriage that my mom always wanted. But according to my moms cousin, she came to him the night before she got married and told him she didn’t love my dad, and my uncle told her that he would help her call off the wedding, that it wasn’t right for her to ruin his life, but she told him that things had already gone to far, that she had to go through with it. So if this is true than I don’t think she has any right to complain that her marriage was bad and that she divorced him. She even made the comment tonight “When your dad left” as if it was his choice and decision. I don’t think she takes any of the blame for anything. She always just thinks she is right. It makes me crazy.
I guess I thought that since everyone was pushing so hard for us to come back to Utah that that meant they were willing to lend a hand and make things a little easier, at least for a little while, until Scott and I could find our footing again.
Scott’s family has been such a help through all that has happened, but again since we have been home, we see them very little.
Scott’s mom has his sisters kids there half the week so I don’t feel comfortable asking her for help, then the days that the other grandkids aren’t there she is trying to take care of her business. I did ask her if she could watch the kids 1 day last week for a couple of hours so I could go to a dr. appt last week, and she said it would depend on her daughter, I just got the feeling that her daughters kids were more important than mine, why couldn’t she make the decision?
I feel so alone right now, I just wish I could pack up our things and move away again.