I’m hilarious. Well, I used to be. Not too long ago my side-splitting antics would make my son laugh so hard he’d throw his arms around me and say, “I love you, Mom!” Those were the good ol’ days when I was a hoot. These days, my kid and I are more likely to throw our arms up in frustration. Like waves of water eroding a cliffside, the stresses of this last year have chipped away my fun side. Juggling remote learning, my workload, and thousands of laundry loads have disconnected me from my funny bone.
If I was only looking out for myself, I’d focus on meeting my work deadlines and getting household chores done.
In this parallel universe, I’d be all alone and in no hurry to change my grumpy, stressed-out mood. Thank goodness my house plants wouldn’t be counting on my sunny disposition for their diet of sunlight. But in the real world, my lack of playfulness is a problem. My 7-year-old depends on it. He counts on me to add a level of lightness to our relationship. It’s a way we connect.
With my fun bone broken, the bond we share shifts to a gloomy place.
When asking me for help with his dancing or his spelling, instead of getting a smile and some groovy mom dance moves, he gets a distracted response that sounds a lot like, “In a minute.” I have every intention of helping out, but that minute flies by as I work to meet deadlines while spreading peanut butter on crackers — a snack he asked for 30 of those minutes ago.
When he asks again, I'm still working while trying to make dinner, too.
I say sharply, “In a few minutes.” This chat reminds me to ask we are in his remote learning schedule which sends him into a downward spiral of resistant anguish that neither of us knows how to handle. Clearly, no one is having fun.
In order to feel like a competent mom, keeping our household ship afloat is a major part of my day.
My focus is caught up in the details that make this happen — not in finding the fun. I wonder if I’m failing my kid by prioritizing all of the things that make our home and his schooling successful, instead of the emotional aspects of myself that make our relationship thrive. With my playful parenting antics stuck on the back burner, I feel our connection slipping during those moments when we need it the most.
Since connecting with my kid is more important than connecting to my schedule, I’m practicing shifting my focus.
That’s the key. When I can manage to step into the moment with him, my multitasking mom-mode slips away and we both feel the lighter difference between us. This shift demonstrates to my kid that he holds value. When we're connected my fun bone reattaches, I’m oh-so hilarious once more, and the hugs my son gives me are the proof.
