Day 304 of 366

Lessons from Home: Quarantine Edition

In the spring, our lives shut down.

We did not leave the house for much—not church, work, school. No family visits north. Only trips to Texarkana were for doctor visits.

All activities were suspended. No more cheer, dance, t-ball. No birthday parties. No get-togethers with friends. No play dates for the kids.

All the world stopped.

And we didn’t have to face the fear of missing out, because there was nothing to miss out on. We were all forced to be at home—and for some of us, that was a good thing.

This is what we needed. This family time. To reconnect. To play card games. To have movie nights. To build forts. To go outside. To remember our why.

But then time went by.

We grew tired of living in fear.

Someone, somewhere decided we had to keep going. One by one, we started back. Church, school, work. Then, the events and activities started coming back. Slowly, but surely.

And now our schedule is packed again.

Church, school, work.

Cheer, dance, t-ball, soccer, Campfire.

Birthday parties. Family trips.

Soon, every day of the week has something, and we don’t even realize it.

We are busy. All over again.

Until it all stops.

Until the “mask wearing, social distancing, do everything you can possibly do right” person in your family ends up sick.

Then, you hunker down and quarantine.

While I am thankful his symptoms are mild in comparison to so many, I haven’t seen him this miserable for this long. True the flu has knocked him down before, but this is different. This is harder to come back from.

So he stays isolated.

The kids miss their dad. I miss my husband. The house feels weird. And empty. I know he’s here, but he’s not really here.

He can’t help me with dinner. Or bath time. Or bed time. He can’t help in the mornings. And before I knew how sick he was, when they thought it was just seasonal allergies, I was on my own with work, school, and activities.

Allllll the respect to single moms. If it wasn’t for my mom and friends, I wouldn’t have made it those two days. Parent teacher conferences when t-ball is at the same time? I have to be one place, one kid has to be one place, and the other another?? Thank the good Lord above for carpool and Mimis all around.

So here I am, teaching from home, doing online kindergarten, and attempting prek worksheets. I am constantly wiping down door knobs, handles and counters. My hands are dry and cracked from excessive washing. The dishwasher runs nightly. The laundry is never-ending. The house a wreck from the 4 and 6 year olds’ imaginations I don’t have the energy to clean up at the end of the day.

And I watch the world pass by—everyone else still living while I feel stuck.

I have to take a break from social media, because I see the pictures and posts of all the things my kids are missing. School celebrations. Red Ribbon Week. Last t-ball games. First soccer games. Halloween events. Cheer and dance.

I feel guilty. I know I’ve yelled. I know I’ve let my stress show. I know I’ve sat at the computer on Google Meets for hours (because hello, that’s my job), while they’ve really just wanted my attention. I know I’ve not cleaned enough. Cooked enough. Turned the tv off enough. Whatever I think of—I know it hasn’t been enough.

I try to make up for it, but the truth is…it’s me who cares. Them? They are happy to be home with me. They are happy to play on the air mattress. They are happy to eat at their table in the living room and watch a movie. They think decorating cookies Ms. Anna brought over is so cool. Since we are home, they notice there is time to play Go Fish and bake that pumpkin pie. There’s time to snuggle and cuddle and just.be.here.

They have never seen me as “not enough,” because for them, time with me is “never enough.”

And now, it’s coming to an end.

We go back to real life tomorrow. The husband is feeling much better. And praise God, the kids and I have had no symptoms whatsoever.

As much as I want to get back to our routine, to church, to my classroom, to our normal lives…I can’t help but be grateful for the reminder that it’s okay to be still. It’s okay to be simple. It’s okay to say no.

And for the two little people that matter the most in my world: I am enough.