I remember it was some time toward the end of January because our Christmas lights were still up, and I remember making a mental note that I had to freaking take those down already. I was trying to get my fussy toddler in the door after a massive train delay led me to picking him up super late from day care. I plopped him on the floor, rushed through making dinner until about halfway through I realized I hadn't taken his coat off. He was crying because he was hungry and hot, my husband was not in earshot, and I remember just sinking to my knees to take his coat off with tears running down my face.
Both my husband and I were beyond exhausted by this time of night, every night, especially because our son was (honestly, still is) a terrible sleeper, and we had family drama coming at us from both sides. We were spending maybe an hour with him at night and that time was spent rushing through meals and baths. I remember thinking about how no matter how hard things were now, that they could always get worse.
And oh boy, did they ever.
In so many ways when the pandemic hit in March, my little family of three was beyond lucky.
We were able to keep my son home and safe, and were both still employed. We could afford food and shelter, and honestly after nine months of this life, when it comes down to it, you cannot ask for much more than that.
However, our "go-go-go" lifestyle came to a screeching halt much like everyone else's, and we were faced with a new reality. One that totally shifted the dynamic of our day-to-day life and our relationship with our kid.
In the "before" times, I was constantly wrought with mom-guilt over not spending as much time with him as I would have loved to.
Even on days trains weren't late, we didn't get to spend a ton of time together during the week. So on weekends I overscheduled us like crazy. We were always off to some park, or play space, or play date. There was always a grandparent coming over to hang out for a few hours, or we were taking a day trip somewhere. We were just in general nonstop, and frankly that nonstop lifestyle left me feeling a little less connected to my son that I'd like to admit.
Of course, going to the opposite extreme has been hard.
I'm not trying to sugarcoat this experience: to put it frankly, it sucks. We aren't meant to child rear without our village. Moms have had to be strong in ways we shouldn't have had to have been, especially moms in less fortunate situations. But amid the stress and the worry, and the working and the household chores and the grief and the exhaustion, there's been a silver lining.
I feel like I'm becoming so much more confident in being a mom.
Don't get me wrong: I still have plenty of mom-guilt and self-loathing. But getting to spend more time with my kid than I ever dreamed of has given me an undeniable gift.
The best part? I have lost the ability to give a s–t.
Seriously, the things I stressed out over seem like totally silly worries. I don't feel like I have to maximize every moment. I can just … be in the moment with him. Sure, we do activities and we try to keep him occupied, but overall, a simple game of pretend suffices. Sweating the small stuff seems pointless when the prospect of something truly awful is always looming on the edge, and it has made me so much more present.
Over the summer, I let him run wild with a hose in the backyard. He was soaked from head to toe, a total mess, and it was pure bliss.
I let him "do my makeup," and have time to teach him how to make scrambled "eggies" in the morning. In the summer, we took random walks and threw rocks in the water. He helps me with dinner, and my kitchen is trashed but he's genuinely so proud of what he makes. My living room is a disaster, my chores take a thousand times longer to do, and there are some days I totally forget that I am a more Zen mom and lose it.
But overall, 2020 gave me the gift of being able to slow down and savor moments with my kid that otherwise would have never happened. Losing the ability to do literally anything else really showed me that I don't have to be my child's social coordinator.
Make no mistake: I am so excited to get back to seeing loved ones and doing things again.
I may even kiss my kid's day care caregivers on the mouth and save to buy them each a car. I one million percent am ready to reintegrate into society. But one thing I hope I keep with me is the the ability to slow down and savor the small things. I've gotten so many beautiful moments because of this forced time at home, and have grown so much more confident in my motherhood.
And considering the year it has been, I'll take that as a win and I hope you can, too.
