MAY 7, 2020, THE MOM I AM NOW
image by misty trone
As the internet went out last night after the second wave of massive thunderstorms, and my 4 year old woke me up to wipe his nose, my insomnia conveniently decided to also creep back in. My mind raced in circles and I thought for sure I had met my limit. Covid-19 has changed us. 2020 has changed us. It’s ripped through us literally like the tornado that swept away half of our city in March. This mama is over it. We are all over it. But I can’t help but think of the reasoning behind it all. There’s a lesson. An explanation to all the madness. And as a mother, I can’t help but think God is winking at me right now showing me the way. And he knows, I’m different.
I could write about a hundred pages detailing the frustration and contempt I have felt for this nasty global virus that hit our globe a few months ago. I could tell the story of a mother’s journey to running a household full of kids with no break or human connection outside the perimeter of our home. I could detail the truth behind “a mother never rests”. The cracks in my hands, are not from excessive hand washing (because I never leave the house), but from doing dishes 3-5 times a day from feeding my family. Or perhaps the rough edges of my heels are from neglecting my feet and my body in its entirety for that matter. And the wrinkles on my face? They are from, well, living.
This is 2020. I could go on and on with the details of a mother who had to ask to leave the house today and get in her car to get some peace and quiet, but really what she did was drive 30 miles to let out a mountain of tears. To watch them stream down my face only to realize it was time to make dinner again and clean up the living room and start the laundry before bath time and bedtime stories.
You see Covid-19, you arrested me and my former life.
The one where I was going to finish my docu-series and write more songs and enroll my kids in school for the upcoming year. The one where I was going to visit my family in California and baptize my goddaughter surrounded by all the people I love the most. The one where my first flight home with my party of 5 didn’t involve potty accidents or screaming fits. The summer where summer camps ruled and mama got to going places. The time where I could micro manage my little family and create memories whilst taking care of my dreams and ambitions at the same time. The summer I planted a garden.
But you had other plans.
You stole my life.
And forced me to create a new one.
One where I would become a 3rd grade teacher. Where I would re-learn quadrilaterals and fractions and where my 8 year old daughter would begin to also.
One where my daughter and her teacher would have trials and tribulations, but eventually victories. And the kind you could see on my 8 year olds face when she scored a 98 on her fractions quiz.
One where my husband would work at home upstairs and we’d see him every other hour filling up his coffee cup and he’d peek into our homeschool room to ask us how our day was going.
It was the one where the 4 year olds would ask Mommy if we could go dig dirt just because and the one where I complied. But also the one where I would lose context of all time and just be in the sun with the dirt, and the boys and the earth underneath my skin.
The one where my hair turned grey and my skin got really glowy from a lack of showers. The time where I didn’t remember if I washed my hair, but was certain I had sunscreen on.
Where baseball became a family sport. And I remembered how to hold a glove and throw a ball. And throw it with fervor.
It was the life where we sat down to dinner every night at 5 pm and we held hands and sang our daily blessing.
It was a time of pop tarts for breakfast, ice cream for dessert and a free for all in the kitchen every other time of day.
A time where calories didn’t calculate and shame wasn’t a part of our inner dialogue.
It was a time for movies on a Wednesday night where everyone participated by cuddling close on the sofa and a love for humpback whales began. (Thanks Disney).
It was a learning game of Candyland, Monopoly, and putting stamps on snail mail to Grandpa and Grandma.
It was picking up the phone to hear someone’s voice and being excited about it.
It was a time of less is more, more brownies please and an awareness of the wind and sunshine so acute you could smell it.
It was picnics at lunch and walking in the rain, baking and cooking, failing and wailing, forgiveness and acceptance, for richer or poorer, till death do us part.
It wan an awakening unlike any other.
It was togetherness.
It was the year of 2020.
Covid-19, you created a monster of catastrophe and sadness and grief, but your unconscious subtext of slow down, be together, pay close attention and love harder was understood. And it won.
The mom I am now is far better than before.
More awakened.
More enlightened.
More adept.
More in love with this life.
This breath.
More focused on my family rather than going through the motions of my family.
More in love with the actual humans that make up my family and more in tune with who they want to become.
You see, one day we will look back and we will speak of this unprecedented time.
And we will realize its power.
The mom I am now is the follow through mom.
The laundry can actually wait mom.
The let’s get dirty and clean it later mom.
The not so OCD everything has to be right mom.
The we are in this together till the end mom.
The I will remember every detail of your 4 year old voice mom.
The mom I am now is changed. But so are we all. As a family. As a nation. As a community.
We are changed.
And there’s no going back now.
To us. Cheers mamas. And I love you.
