*Disclaimer: This post was written in part during September of 2020 and left to percolate until now- March 2021. During September this was the reality of all my *many* feels. I am so grateful that my sons were since able to get into a public school which has wonderful teachers and full-time in-person classes (although, yes, they must wear a mask). This has been sanity-saving for the lot of us. Also, I have not hurled my phone in a few months, so there's that!
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I screamed today. Loud, horrible screaming. The type which physically makes my sons jump and cringe in fear of me. The type which hurts my voice afterwards and I reprimand myself inwardly insisting that I deserve to lose my voice or have a sore throat because I am an impatient screamer and this is my penance.
This was the screaming of phone hurling (a bad habit I have), impulsive text venting, and cuss words in front of the boys- although I really tried to substitute with hecks and freaks.
I lost my crap today and for hours- hours!- I could not find it. As is often the case, I felt the overwhelm rising and tried to forewarn my sons. And then at some point, after reminding, after being gracious, after trying to slow down and take it as it comes, I lost it. Just like that, vamoose!
Somewhere between "What do you mean you don't know how to log on to your class...don't you build entire civilizations on Mine Craft? Is this really harder than that?" and "Do you roll your eyes at your teachers?"
I just lost it.
Virtual living is the pits.
Living our lives behind screens or with masks on is beyond.
And I am frustrated.
With the hind-sight of 12 months within the pandemic, I have some observations which I will cast out because I have a sinking suspicion that some of you can latch on.
People are still scared.
I met a man outside the library last week. We each arrived early and had 15 mins. to ignore one another or talk, and we chose to talk. He was an older gentlemen, likely in his 60s. I mention this to paint a picture. I'll also tell you this interesting tidbit: he was double-masked.
Initially I had no mask on at all. We were outdoors, I was the first to arrive and we were the recommended 6 feet apart. But his double-mask stared it's stink-eye at me so I voluntarily put my single mask on.
This was his first venture outside in 12 months. I was the first person he communicated with in person outside of his immediate family- those he lived with. Me. I wasn't going to ruin this because I felt comfortable breathing the same air he was breathing before I put my mask on.
Turns out, he is still scared. And this is not exclusive to him.
People are still scared, and double masks, 6 feet, and vaccines, although helpful to ease the fear, don't eliminate it.
Back to my September blow-up.
Even the coolest kids in the world have their moments...
Big Strong Man and I have consistently been on the same page since the beginning of this pandemic: love it or hate it, we chose to live our lives and not be driven by fear.
This means that we wore the masks when it was necessary -at Walmart- but we didn't when it was not, such as walking around town. We continued to see friends and went in their homes -without masks- and had strangers in our own home at one point, as we SOLD A HOUSE DURING THE PANDEMIC. A conversation piece the older man at the library and I somehow got to talking about and a concept he -hiding in his house for 12 months- could not fathom.
This is not to berate anyone for how they feel about the virus and all it's intricacies.
This is a story of how, all those months ago I could have continued to scream at my sons every time they rolled on the floor in a fit instead of completing their online school work (again, "Do you do that when you're in school? Do all of your classmates see you do this? Does the teacher allow this? What. In. The. Actual. World?"), or I could have decided that, when the doors opened for all-day, every-day, public education, I would -and did- send my sons.
Because they are going to remember this season of their lives in one of two ways:
the virus sucked and made things tricky, yep, that's a given,
but the portion for which I had a choice, the portion where they could remember mom losing her mind and how that negatively effects everyone around, or how mom sent them to school during a pandemic, and we all lived to tell about it- no screaming necessary.
I chose the latter.
Not living in fear does not discredit those who are scared and for a multitude of reasons, nor does it discredit the reality that this virus has and continues to takes lives, but I have this conviction: let us live our lives; be cautious but not fearful, and foster positive mental health as much as -if not more than- our physical health.
For the greater mental health of my family and self, I sent my sons back to school, and I am not one iota sorry about that.
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