The Empty Cup

As districts begin to announce their plans for the fall, I want to be angry at how miserably America has failed our kids. But after 4 months of parenting in isolation, I no longer have the stamina. I must ration any speck of sanity remaining for my family. If I spend even a moment in devastation, my reserves will deplete and that could be the last straw. And since Mothers are the carriers of the invisible load, I am not allowed a last straw. I will put my children on the boat first, even while I am drowning.

If you look into my eyes; no one could locate even a glimmer of smoke at this point, the burn out happened so long ago.

This circus has me spinning plates in the air, and then someone throws me a cup.  

“You cannot pour from an empty cup,” they say.

Watch me.

If it sounds ridiculous, I assure you, nothing is more ridiculous than the two scenarios for “school” parents have been given.

It is so tempting to blame; wag fingers towards an undeniably selfish population, because at least this is an action. But again, blame takes effort. Stomping and pouting isn’t going to put our kids safely into a classroom without the risk of one day attending their teacher’s virtual funeral.

If this sounds dramatic. I can assure you, it is nothing compared to the emotional toll 130 days of answering tiny cries for hugs and friendship with “I don’t know”.

I wish I had some crumbs to sprinkle for you, but even those we’d give away to everyone else.

If this sounds hopeless, it’s not. As long as I get to hold my babies in my arms, I will add glitter to this enormous pile of poop, and smile for them. Being angry and selfish isn’t going to help them learn empathy or how to write the sentence, “I miss hugging Grandma”.

If this sounds painfully honest, it is. That’s the least I can offer, after all we’ve been through.

For Better or Worse

Marriage and parenting in the time of COVID-19 feels like we are in the middle of an unfun, poorly scripted game show, with new fears, stressors and challenges popping up daily. My husband and I just celebrated our 9 year wedding anniversary and this year in particular, we have grown together as a couple more than ever before.

It got me thinking, what would people suggest couples attempt as the ultimate test of patience, humor, and love? What tasks or events put us deep in the trenches of reality--referencing the “worse” portion of “better or worse” in the vows? I conducted a little market research and gathered the top responses from hundreds of married Moms, in the name of reclaiming lightheartedness on the internet.

The number one answer? Assembling IKEA furniture.

For the rest, grab your partner and “discuss”.

Around the House

How they load the dishwasher

Putting up the Christmas tree

Putting together a Barbie Dreamhouse

Putting together “Santa Toys” the night before Christmas

The internet goes down

Putting up wallpaper

Budgeting

Remodeling or construction within the home of any kind.

Building a Costco play structure

Hanging pictures

Hanging curtains

The tupperware cabinet

Playing Scrabble and someone challenges a word

Packing for a trip

Packing the trunk of a full car

Attempting a professional family photo shoot

The Middle of the Night

Getting a bat out of the house

Vomit.

One of the kids wets the bed.

The batteries in the smoke detector are dying and you don’t know which one.

Listening to your partner snore while feeding the baby.

Health

Quarantining during a global pandemic with any number of children.

Labor

Listening to your partner complain how uncomfortable the chair is that they are sitting in... while you’re in labor

Food poisoning

When your child brings you a handful of poop.

Hiring a doula only to have your partner compete with them during the entire 3-day labor.

One is the caretaker and one is the patient post-surgery.

The first, second, and subsequent calls to Poison Control.

Heavy Machinery

Backing a boat trailer onto the ramp

Backing an RV into a campsite

Docking a boat

Renting a mini-excavator and hitting a gas line.

One teaching the other to drive stick

Out in the World

Shopping at IKEA

Driving in a foreign country

Navigating a two-person canoe

Navigating a two-person kayak

Changing a flat tire without cell service

Riding a tandem bicycle

Being lost in a foreign country

Needing to go to the hospital in a foreign country

A 10-hour plane ride with a toddler

If only instead of rice, we could throw out these challenges to newlyweds as they recede down the aisle, it would paint a much more realistic picture of marital bliss. But there is a secret waiting at the end of these moments, and its whispered to both, once you reach the other side.

It says, “Look what we did. Look what we survived. And we did it together.”

Travels with Children

In an attempt to travel safely during the pandemic, we rented a 30-foot RV trailer through Outdoorsy and I picked a campsite location a little over an hour away. Everything about traveling with young children requires lowering your expectations. 5 hours of sleep, 4 items you forgot to pack, 3 major inconveniences, 2 meltdowns per child, 1 unexpected detour is typically a good baseline of realism. As I’ve explained in the past, our barometer for “fun” also needs to be auto-tuned. I have traded in my Mardi Gras beads for teething necklaces.

The volume of stuff required for a trip of any kind with kids is just ridiculous. If you’re like me, you make lists, the laundry runs for 48-hours nonstop before and after. Moms will spend more time prepping and unpacking, than enjoying themselves during the trip itself, these are just the facts.

My four-year-old told us before we left, this is Josephine’s first vacation in our family. Some days I worry she’s not yet been initiated into their girl gang. But this small statement, one that could easily be glossed over, is actually a symbol of inclusion. I felt its meaning trickle through my body, the way a hug does these days. It’s weight holds so much more.

The girls loved the bunk beds, and various storage containers that they could use as secret hideouts. 70% of childhood pleasures seem to consist of elevated, or overly confined spaces. We fished, swam in the reservoir, and had a new adventure as a family in the great outdoors.

As a mom, I asked myself, what was I attempting to get out of this “vacation”?

It wasn’t R&R—that was lost when I had to help my husband back the RV up into the camp spot between two huge trees, on a hill, with all the kids screaming at once.

It wasn’t to sleep well, at midnight we played a losing game of musical beds, battled homesickness, and I co-slept with my 16-month-old who has never co-slept.

It wasn’t to increase my squat and hover strength or brush up on entomology. One of three the major inconveniences occurred when our RV couldn’t be hooked up to water without leaking water all over the floor. So, we used the open-air bathrooms and mid-hover I happened upon a bug that was the size of my foot (please keep in mind I wear size 12).

Then around 16-hours in, it occurred to me.

I sat with Josephine on the beach, while she covered my legs in rocks (the closest thing I’ve had to a pedicure in 120 days)--my husband had both big girls about 50 yards out in the water and they were shrieking with unabashed glee.

It felt exactly right.

The effort, coordination, worry, money, sleeplessness, had absolutely nothing on this feeling.

We are here for those small moments.

The ones that become internalized memories, we can call upon in the darkness. It’s letting the powerful minutes speak louder than the challenging ones. Sometimes in order to get there, we just have to travel outside our comfort zone.