Holy mackerel, y’all. It’s been a freaking year.
What’s that? It’s only January 15?
Yes, I’m aware, but I swear each day since January first has been a month long.
We started the year with my son in virtual school, which is super fun with kindergartners (as I am sure many of you know) and my husband and I working from home. Last week, we added in a quarantined toddler.
Not to mention the domestic terrorist attack on our Capitol. Not that I was incredibly surprised by what happened, but it was surreal to watch it unfold.
I’m not quite sure I’ve ever been as stressed as I am now.
I can’t focus on writing or reading. My patience is thin and short. I have no motivation to work out, and all I want is coffee, cookies, and wine … and a nap or ten.
If I learned anything in 2020, it was that nothing is consistent anymore. There is no such thing as a routine or expected outcome.
One thing I haven’t learned yet is how to handle the consequences. My kids have both been in various stages of sleep regression since March. No one is getting enough sleep and we’re all stretched thing. We’re cranky and tired of each other.
And, I think, that’s okay. None of us know how to operate in a global pandemic. Or how to handle watching in insurrection unfold.
It’s important to admit that sometimes, we don’t have the answers. I know as adults and parents, we’re expected to know how to react in every situation, but some things you cannot plan for.
It’s okay to be wrong. It’s okay to make mistakes.
As long as you know when it’s time to apologize or ask for help.
We’re all humans and we’re doing the best we can.