A Mom’s Survival Guide to Island Living

Remember back in April when I said Moms in the United States were not OK? Well, that was just a signal flare and now the island is burning.

What most men are starting to piece together at this point, the secret to success, lies at the hands of women. Over the past 145 days, Moms have had time to filter through what is helpful and what is harmful, as we navigate both the physical and mental battles. We are still here, mothering adrift from our village and it’s: lonely, triggering, and enormously difficult. But we are adaptive and here is what we’ve learned. Like everything in motherhood, take what serves you and leave the rest.

Step Away from the Internet

The only thing worse than the comment section on a political post, is witnessing other people seemingly living their best quarantine life on social media. It’s critical to take extended breaks from both the news and social media. It’s not just because of all the divisiveness, hate, and conspiracy theory insanity—it is also because whatever is viewed and read on a screen is not always an accurate portrayal of reality.

We miss seeing another Mom in Target, standing next to a toddler, fully sprawled on the floor, tears the size of the crocodile musical toy she is refusing them. We need this proof of life because not only does it serve as a reminder of humanity, but because it’s honest and entirely relatable. Front porch photo shoots and dreamy homeschooling setups are a struggling Mom’s metaphorical salt in a festering, oozing wound.

When you go to reach for social media, try a meditation app or listen to a therapeutic podcast instead. The social media highlight reel, is anything but real.

Lean on and Learn from Others

Locate a supportive network of Moms who aren’t afraid to tell the truth. Ones that invite you for a socially distant walk to talk, instead of encouraging you to pick up a second glass of wine.

Find someone who says, I see you’re struggling and I am too.

We have been Schooled

In order for learning to take place, adults need to act like adults. I too want to throw an enormous temper tantrum over virtual schooling again—but neither that, nor using children as experimental guinea pigs will end the spread of COVID-19.

Thank you to the all the brave teachers on the front lines, attempting to safely educate students in person.

We should stop assuming kids will benefit from a virtual world that hasn’t been able to emotionally benefit adults. Online learning, like in-person schooling, isn’t a one-size-fits-all model. It will work for some, but not for all.

When online schooling or homeschooling isn’t the right fit—look into an in-person, cooperative learning pod. Find a family to add to your circle, hire a teacher, or take turns with the curriculum. Children are social creatures and learning, especially from a young age, has more to do with human interaction, than it does words or numbers on a screen.

We’ve Gotten Creative AF

We will do whatever it takes to be social, safely. It’s clear other people are hellbent on killing themselves and others--but policing them requires more bandwidth than we have to spare and we need every drop of energy for our own families. Their stupidity only ignites our creativity.

We’ve done: coffee meet-ups from the trunks of minivans, socially distant walks and runs, 6-ft apart playdates, Zoom book clubs and happy hours, restaurant dining in parking spaces, and kid’s birthday drive-by parades.

Mental Health is the Key to Everything

While we are doing everything in our power to keep our family safe from COVID-19, Mothers also tend to set the tempo of the family’s mental health. Everyone looks to us to be the metronome. When we are off beat, the whole house falls apart.

Prioritize mental health, as if it is our only source of oxygen. Seeking help should be as socially acceptable as washing our hands at this point. Resources are available online--is it ideal, no. Is it essential, yes.

It is OK to say, I’m not OK.

If you look closely, you’ll see me, waving over here on my island, putting out little fires everywhere, disconnected but determined. Mothers may be marooned, but we will always find a way to move us all closer together.

The Collective Good

It’s been a minute since I’ve had a toddler. We purposefully waited to have our third, in order to finally soak up every ounce of babyhood, while the older girls entertain each other. Having two-under-two didn’t exactly lend itself to quality head-sniffing moments—so this is really the first time I’ve taken the opportunity to savor Josephine’s littleness. I’ve never tried Ecstasy, but rocking her and getting in some good head-sniffs, feels like the stuff euphoria was named for.

Somehow during lockdown, my youngest went from babyhood to toddlerhood, when no one was looking.

It’s true, mothers block out tough phases in order to get through, if we didn’t the world would be filled with only children. It’s no accident toddlers are at their most adorable at the exact moment they are their most challenging. Everything about their curiosity requires vigilant supervision.

A dryer? I need to climb in.

A fork? I bet this goes in my eye.

An electrical socket? I should probably lick it.

There is no staircase they won’t climb, or chopped up piece of fruit they won’t try to choke on.

Back when things were normal and I was having a particularly rough day, I’d load up the car and head to Costco, or the park, really anywhere with other people around. My intentions were three-fold. First, I needed help not losing my patience, and some days moms need witnesses. Secondly, and this was the best part, my daughters make strangers smile. No matter where we were, people would stop me to comment on my kids—be it their matching outfits, beauty, or their behavior (good, bad, or ugly). Lastly, and most importantly, on the really hard days, I needed to be reminded just how lucky I am.

I haven’t taken Josephine out in public since she was just over a year and yesterday, I got her alone for an outdoor coffee date. She is peaking at her most darling, with curly hair and blue eyes that will make your ovaries ache. She is spirited in the way that makes me chuckle when other people say they are tired. There was another mom, about a stone’s throw away, with a baby in front pack. I waved to her and she waved back, not knowing each other, but speaking the universal language of motherhood. I see your tiny human and look, I also made one of those! Isn’t it marvelous?

As people entered the coffee shop they were greeted by her gurgling baby and when they exited, they got a wave from my charismatic toddler. While all who passed through were wearing masks, everyone found some creative way to engage with our kids. Clapping their hands and waving--it was as if these strangers missed these tiny humans they’d never met. Like they were waiting for the world to reopen, just to get in a game of peek-a-boo.

About an hour into Josephine’s very own game of climbing-on-and-off-the-chair that made her giddy with joy, one gentleman told me, “her happiness just made my whole day.”

What a lovely thought.

I think perhaps this is what we have been craving. Yes, we were blessed to binge watch our own children for 3 months, but we were missing an in-person reminder of what it is all for.

The collective good. The collective good of humanity.

I read somewhere that the reason America isn’t recovering from COVID-19 as quickly as other countries is because we are a country that values individualism over collectivism. I so want them to be wrong.

I didn’t know the other mother with her baby by the entrance, but I was just happy to know that she was there. That she and her baby existed.

And while I know it was necessary to flatten the curve, I hope as we begin to emerge, doing everything in our power to prevent the second wave, we should stop and appreciate what a gift it is to be able to witness and participate in the next wave of humanity.