I feel I would be remiss if I didn't somehow mark this season of life in light of the pandemic, not only for posterity's sake, but also for my own reflection and mental processing. So, here goes. :)
We have known people who have tested positive for, struggled with, and/or passed from COVID-19, and we've (only just recently) experienced it ourselves. There has been and is so much else going on in the world, as well, and like many of you, I'm sure, my head has been in a constant state of "spin," and it seems as though my heart cannot handle one more tragedy/conflict/moral dilemma. While it seems like there's so much we could process together and talk about, conversations in the recent past have seemed to go generally the same way:
How are you doing?
Oh, you know, hanging in there. How about you?
Yeah. Same - just in survival mode. Anything new going on?
Not really. You?
Nope.
It has been so hard to wrap our minds around what in the actual world is going on, so hard to figure out how to be in all of this, so hard to know what to do or think, and as a result, we've stayed on the surface of what could be deepening conversations and relationships. We've seemingly given up some hope and drive and zest. We've settled for this perpetual "new normal," and despite "making the most of it," we're not necessarily thriving. Sure, initially, we were innovative and creative and almost excited about finding new ways to fill our time, but as that time went on, we became increasingly wearied by that time that kept and kept and kept going on. That's seemed to be the case for me, at least.
Don't hear me saying we haven't all been doing the best we can. And please don't hear me saying (to any of you or to myself) that we should've done more, done better, or done different. I'm just trying to put words to where we're coming from as we look to where we're going.
I recently read an article titled, in part, "
mourning the mom I used to be," and man - so much of it hit home. As I read it, I also realized not only have I been mourning the
mom I used to be, but
also the wife, friend, aunt, leader, teacher, and person I used to be. The pandemic has robbed us of so much, not the least of which is access to experiences, situations, resources, and people that help us to be the
best versions of ourselves. Sure, we figured out to "make do," but it just hasn't been the same.
See - already, the tone of this post of mine is uncharacteristically pessimistic and dark, right?! This leads me to the fact that the pandemic has also given us a lot. One of these "gifts" is a harsh reality check that, at least for me, has lead to some new perspectives. Being so isolated and unoccupied magnified our home lives and our thought lives. It's given us time to overhaul our spaces, our marriages, our parenting, and the way we spend our time. Near the beginning of this pandemic life, I wondered what we'd look like on the other side of it all. I wondered if we'd maintain the new priorities we'd put into place. Wondered if we'd still be content to stay home all day for days in a row; if we'd leave space for family time amongst other obligations; if we'd keep our closets organized and our clutter minimal (😉). And here we are (I think/hope)! It seems that I won't have to wonder about that time, anymore. It seems we're there. (Or "here?" Whatever makes the most sense. Notice I didn't say this time has given me extra, new, or even renewed brain cells...)
I took both kids to in-person story time at the library last week, and it was a surprisingly surreal experience. Pre-COVID, library story time was a regular part of Jacob and I's routine. We started going as soon as he dropped his morning nap (around 15 months, I think), and we attended a couple times a week. He loved the librarians, learned/practiced social skills, and met some of his (and my) best friends there.
When the pandemic hit, we obviously stopped going to story time...and
everywhere else. My little social butterfly who, for many reasons, thrived on our daily outings, was caged, if you will. You may remember how early-COVID days went around here, as
documented in
this video.
Late last year, thanks to a friend's generous offer to stay with Lydia during her morning nap, I was able to take Jacob back to a couple story times - one was outside and one was very sparsely attended and somewhat disjointed, and both were are not-our-usual library. Because our previous story time experiences were half his lifetime ago, Jacob only remembered these COVID ones, as far as I could tell. So, you can imagine his (and my) delight when we attended last week and there were several families in attendance, he remembered the librarians, and activities included both bubbles and the parachute. Plus, we got to share it all with Lydia for the first time.
That's partially where the surreal-ness came in, for me. I hadn't gotten to be "this mom" with her, yet. I haven't gotten to show her the world...or the world her, for that matter. How relieving it was to see her so comfortable and engaged in this almost-normal, pre-COVID environment. She caught on quickly, was independently involved, and acted like she'd been doing it all her whole life.
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| She took it upon herself to pick up all the unattended carpet squares after putting away her own. |
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| Do you see that boy's face?! ♥ |
After story time, we went to a park to play and have a picnic (giving myself a gold star for this foresight and preparedness - haha). It was suuuuch a beautiful day, and the sunshine and warmth were doing wonders for everyone. Some older-than-Jacob boys showed up shortly after we'd finished our lunch. Not only did Jacob require minimal encouragement to approach them, but when he did, he introduced himself ("and this is my sister Lydia," he said of his own accord) and asked if they wanted to play a game of tag. How relieving it was to see him so comfortable and engaged in this almost-normal, pre-COVID environment. He was friendly, played fair, and made sure everyone watched out for his "little sister" (something he hasn't had opportunity to implement much and did all on his own).
Days like these (story time + park + picnic in the sunshine) assure me that all is not lost. Kids really are resilient, and it's never too late to "get back out there" - for them or for yourself. I'm still the person I was pre-pandemic, and I can still be the mom I was, too. How relieving it was to see me so comfortable and engaged in this almost-normal, pre-COVID environment. I made small talk, arrived on time and prepared (after being so out of practice), and truly enjoyed a large portion of the day with my sweet kiddos (don't take this the wrong way - of course I'm very grateful to be able to stay home with them, but if you can't relate, just trust me when I say it's not always enjoyable). While it's ok to mourn the mom I hadn't been able to be, I can also be grateful to have gained so many new tools and experiences during our quarantine life the last couple of years (still crazy to put that time stamp on it all, right?!).
All that to say, the world is such a volatile place, these days. Perhaps it always was, and we're just hyper-sensitive to it, since we haven't had much else to occupy our time and minds? Who knows. Regardless, it almost makes me want to just keep staying at home. Keep living in our bubble of Pinterest activities, backyard playtime, and limited interaction with the outside world. But only almost. There is still beauty to be found and joy to be felt. There are still connections to be made and relationships to be had. There are still adventures to embark on and places to explore. We will not live in fear. Plus, I can't keep these two all to myself - their light is too bright and their joy too immense. ♥
The Lord has sustained us through this past season, and He will sustain us through the next...and the next...and the next. I am so thankful for the hope, peace, wisdom, and provision He provides. I am in constant awe of His grace and His kindness. When the world is so dark and humanity seems hopeless, I cling to the fact that His love and forgiveness are for everyone, and I pray everyone has the opportunity to accept and profess that truth. I am ready to keep helping make that happen.
I am ready to regain some of what we've lost. I am ready to move forward with new perspectives, new tools, and new expectations. I'm ready to remember and appreciate who we were - who I was - and excited to discover who we'll become - who I'll become. Are you?
Readily,
Kensy
Favorites of the day:
all the new words Lydia is trying out
meeting new people
the PAT (Parents As Teachers) program
(This may be another blog post for some day, but for now, I highly recommend this program for new parents/parents of young children. We just (finally) started and I regret not doing so sooner, if nothing else than for the affirmation and encouragement I've already received from an expert in the field of young children/parenting. How valuable to a stay-at-home mom, especially! Really thankful for this resource.)
