March 18th

Once upon a time, in a world before I was a mamma, I wrote some.  Mostly to practice what I was preaching to students about the power and permanence of writing, and it gave me the opportunity to reflect and process. 

I don’t know if there has been any other time in my life when there has been so much to reflect and process as the past week has provided.  Most of what was familiar and consistent in my world has slipped away causing an unsettled and anxious feeling. However, like all hard things, there is good to come from this. 

My typical routine is busy and sometimes chaotic.  The week moves at a pace that leaves me exhausted.  Rushing to work in the morning, busy day there, rushing home to get kids fed and bathed, maybe even a moment to read with them.  I am an educator after all, so being too tired to read to or listen to my children read leads to all the guilt.  Hopefully the lunches are made, dishes done, and the children have some clean clothes (even socks) to wear to the next day.  We climb through the week to get to the weekend where there is some time to sit, but the groceries, laundry and all that still need attention.

And then there was COVID. 

Now there is this gift of time.  Time to write, to read books for myself and my children, time to take walks together, do puzzles, create masterpieces. In all my recent reflecting and processing I am choosing hope over fear.  I am focusing on the rest that I can get during this time, and to finding delight in the activities that I can do with the people I am able to be around. To those I am not able to be around, I want to connect through writing.  This process of being vulnerable in writing to send love and hugs.