I AM SORRY. I AM SAD.

Working from home.  That’s what my husband has been doing for a month.  It’s a very well respected position, too, and we are so glad he has the opportunity to continue working.  We know that we are the lucky ones.  We are also very healthy.  We are not in danger of losing our home or business.  Our problems are definitely first world when it comes to our family, but this crisis does have some far reaching effects on me personally that seem invisible to the common observer.  

I have been a “stay at home mom” since Darby was born, but the funny thing is, even as a brand new mom, I rarely stayed home.  Part of that is due to the fact that she rarely slept unless she wasn’t being held. My reputation for being the mom dancing through her apartment complex to “Man in the Mirror” was starting to wear on my neighbors so I started throwing her in the Ergo and walking the mall.  I went to restaurants for lunch.  I had regular playdates at my house, or attended them at other mom’s houses.  I went to a “New Mom” group.  I took Mommy and Baby Yoga.  Like I said, I rarely stayed home.  As Darby got older, I continued the playdates. We went to restaurants,  swim lessons, dance lessons, and Target was a regular outing. The park became a daily activity, and no matter the weather, we continued to keep ourselves busy and out in the world.   That is how we fueled ourselves with joy.  Social interactions were our life.  My parenting involved the village.  I relied on other kids, other parents, places, activities, classes, and interactions to make my life work.  I didn’t spend most of my days attempting to teach my child math and reading. I wasn’t the one pretending to be a pony to play My Little Pony for hours on end.  We did stuff.  We made ourselves part of the world and the world was a part of us.  

Taking a break from cool down to kiss a boo boo.

This is the first time since getting pregnant that I have stayed home this much.  I’ve never had to entertain my kid by myself all day everyday.  Sure, I was a Kindergarten teacher back in the day so I am never really at a loss for activities and lessons to provide her with but I used to leave that job at the end of the day.  There were hours I was on and hours I was off.  Since being home all day everyday, it feels like I am always supposed to be on.  And it’s not the world putting that pressure on me.  It’s not Maks; he is a very involved husband and dad.  It’s me.  I’m the voice in my head telling me to do more, or be different, to be better, and while that is super great advice from a coach, it’s not great to live with 24/7.  When is what I am doing enough?  Even when I give myself one hour a day to exercise and shower, there are times I have to stop that to kiss a boo boo, or open a snack while in the shower, or even describe where something is in the refrigerator while I'm on the toilet.  Where are my boundaries during all of this?  When is it okay to stop for a bit and say, “Okay, that was probably a grade C mom day for me but C’s get degrees.  She is alive and I’m calling that a win," so I can sleep peacefully?

Well, I have now spent a month at home.  Save for a few trips to the grocery store and a once a week trip to my gym to teach a Zoom class, I haven’t been anywhere. We believe in the need to shelter in place and follow the guidelines completely. But recently, I had a friend comment on how this might be easier for me as a parent than some because I have been home with my kid from the beginning. That made me pause. Yes, in some ways it’s true.  But, to tell the truth, I never considered myself the stay at home type, and this situation is not measured by what we were doing before staying in the house. In other words, it sucks for all of us. I may not have been at a full-time job that came with a paycheck, but I did what I had to do to keep our lives happy and active, and I also looked forward to times where I wasn’t momming and went out with friends or my husband or even by myself.  I enjoyed workouts and showers that I took all by myself.  I had conversations from beginning to end with my mom.  I even managed to keep a pretty good diet.  But, to tell the truth, everything went straight out the window with Covid-19. 

   When Covid-19 landed, lives were upended everywhere. In my corner of the planet, Darby’s preschool closed. The gym closed.  My girl’s weekend that we had been planning for months was cancelled.  My first trip to a Zumba Convention that I have looked forward to for a year was cancelled.  Birthdays, holidays, graduations, proms, dinners, date nights, time alone in my house, all of it -- cancelled.   And I know these are nowhere near as traumatic as watching someone close to you suffer or worse.  People are dying.  People are afraid.  They’ve lost so much more than these frivolities.  I am so sympathetic to that, but there are traumas related to this pandemic that are not as visible as someone suffering with the virus. There are challenges for someone as privileged as me, safe at home with people I love. These losses deserve consideration or we all get sick.

The fact I am never alone is one of those challenges and, trust me, it’s starting to take a toll.  Yes, I know, things could be so much worse.  I feel embarrassed for having even a moment of ingratitude.  I begged for this life and this child and I have it all.  I have to appreciate it and be happy all the time or I betray myself, right?  I don’t know.  It’s aspirational to want to live that way, but I don’t think it’s practical.  

Lately, I wake up in the middle of the night with terrible anxiety.  My thoughts jump from shaming myself for what I ate the day before, whether or not I worked out, educated my kid, engaged her in proper activity, fed everyone appropriate food, to fear of getting sick, or death, or losing someone I love, to things I said in passing to someone at the gym a year ago.  A few days ago, I awoke to find my entire body covered in horrible hives. Everyone thought it was probably stress related, but it could also be a new allergy to nuts that picked the middle of a global pandemic to manifest.  Why not?  And while a nut allergy is more likely, I think all of this staying home and stressing out played a big part.   

And then there is the question on everyone’s mind.  When will this end?  I keep telling myself it’s only temporary and I definitely don’t want to risk anybody’s life by opening things up again too soon.  I’m not that selfish.  I just wish there was a real timeline I could see.  And again, I’m not alone.  I know.  But, how do we keep living day to day, week to week, with nothing to look forward to?  Those trips I mentioned earlier, my mom friends and I had a countdown calendar on them.  We counted the days for months, not just because we were excited, but because having something to look forward to when you feel stuck can be so motivating.  I had my diet on track for that Zumba convention because I wanted to be brave enough to dance in less clothing than usual in the Orlando heat.  This pandemic happened and while others hoarded toilet paper and lysol wipes, I’ve been eating carbs like a bear preparing for winter hibernation.  It is so easy to fall off the eating right wagon, but the climb back on is difficult.  It feels like an impossible change to make right now.  And maybe that is okay.  I can just give myself the grace to put on a little weight right now.  It’s a privilege to do that.  Families are fighting to feed their children and I’m laying awake at night stressing about extra pizza. So,  I shame myself for being selfish and the momentum is added to the shame spiral and before you know it, I’m Mombie Dearest yelling at everyone around her in the morning because on top of everything else, I’m now really tired because I spent the sleeping hours berating myself.  

Right now is hard.  And, while I know I don’t have it as hard as some, I have to take a moment to live my truth and say that I am really struggling.  I’m struggling to find time for myself.  I’m struggling to feel happy.  I have friends who are dancing for hours a day on Zoom, or crafting, or truly enjoying time with their kids, and I am so jealous.  I hate saying that, but it’s true.  I want to feel good again.   I want some time to decide what I want to do and do it.   I want to see my mom.  I want to hug her.  I’m sad!  I guess that’s the point here.  I’m sad.  I’m really sad for the people dying from an upper respiratory virus and I am scared because Covid 19 will most likely put me in a hospital if I catch it.  I’m terrified for our country right now and as I am usually an avid consumer of the news, I find myself staying away because the fear is too much.  I’m sad not seeing my friends.  I’m sad not to be able to take my kid to the park and watch her make new friends.  I’m having a hard time with all of it. 

It’s hard to say those things and not have a solution.  It’s hard to say things that I feel like I shouldn’t say or feel and just live with them for a bit.  But, it’s where I am right now.  If there is anything to be learned from a few days spent covered in hives that made my skin crawl with fire, because I drank Almond milk, a beverage I have put in my coffee everyday for at least 3 years now, it’s that things can change on a dime.  I may feel really sad and depressed right now, but tomorrow could be better.  It could also be worse.  I might be allergic to all nuts, and that means I would have to live the rest of my life without peanut butter.  That would be really bad.  That would be too much. 

For right now, life is a bit, let's call it... mysterious.  It doesn’t quite make sense and it’s hard to live with that.    But, as hard as it is to remember, I still have places to go.  I still have things to look forward to.  Some of those things are things I took for granted in the past.  Eating in a restaurant again, hugging my friends, watching my daughter hug her friends, or just dropping her off at preschool and coming home to a completely empty house.  There is still life to look forward to after this.  

Sweating past that point of comfort
 and into something greater.

I am also taking steps to try to feel better right now, as we all should.  Exercise saves my sanity.  It can be hard to commit to the time right now, but I do my best. Peloton has done so much to make exercise at home more accessible and fun and I am beyond grateful. On top of that, my own gym has us teaching virtually right now which has been wonderful for the members as well as me. Coaching others on the bike or in Zumba makes me feel like a superstar, even on Zoom.  I really like feeling like I am making others feel better.  I like using powerful movement and language to inspire people and I sometimes even surprise myself when I believe what I say.  A hard workout makes all the difference.  I love the feeling of pushing myself past comfort and into a place that makes me question how much I really can do and then taking a moment to say, “I’m doing it and I’m better for it.”  So, I am also keeping a gratitude journal to remember those moments.  I’m looking for a balance between honesty with myself around my sadness and aspiring to be better and more grateful for the life I live.  Please, don’t let your take away here be that I don’t recognize my privilege. I do.  I hesitate to share these feelings because of that possibility.  But, I also feel the hives and sadness and know I’m not the only one struggling. There are plenty of jokes and social media memes about homeschooling which are indicators of the very things I’m talking about.  It’s just a difficult time.   That’s all. Maybe it's more than difficult at the moment.  It's hard.   I guess that’s all I really had to say.  Life is better then it could be, but sad and hard and my feelings around it are really complex. But, my feelings, and yours too, are worth consideration. It’s okay to feel what is real.   We just have to keep being honest with ourselves and keep trying. And maybe that is enough for now.