So a reader commented on a post recently that it was great for the positive spin the writer was giving, but what about the rest of us?
What about us stuck at home with the kids, doing virtual learning and losing our careers, individual time, and ourselves?
I think right now, we’re striving to give positivity because we want to be inspiring for our readers. We want to give hope during these dark days that only seem to have more darkness looming on the horizon.
I want to be inspiring to others. But if you want honesty, I’ll give it to you.
2020 was a real you-know-what show. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. People want real raw honesty about others struggling and moms they can relate to. Here’s the thing though: you take away my positive mojo and humor response to my less than ideal days, and I’m gonna be up Schitt’s Creek. Again, no ifs, ands, or buts about that fact either.
I rush through setting up a classroom every morning for one kid because we don’t have the space to leave everything out without the youngest destroying it. I deal with tantrums from another who doesn’t want to do his schoolwork or anything that resembles what I need him to do. The third kid gloomily looks at me, giving me the normal teenager dirty looks when I request him to do anything at all.
I spend my days with a series of alarms on my phone so that I know when one kid is on for school, when there’s a break, when it’s time for therapy, or when it’s time to get back online after lunch. As if it’s not enough, I have a kid screaming at me refusing to do his work while the other is yelling:
“Mom, I need this paper”
“Mom, it kicked me off zoom”
“Mom, I don’t know how to do this.”
The new puppy whines in his kennel. I had to put him up because I couldn’t walk without his little butt weaving between my feet like a cat. I’m not in the mood for ER visits for me or the pup. I can’t get the littlest one to pay attention to his schoolwork because he is too busy giggling with and running from the dog. While it’s cute, it’s also annoying.
I push myself through the day…and it’s literally pushing because I don’t want to do any of this.
I want to send my kids back to school so badly. But I also have a child who gets sick very easily and has a hard time getting over whatever he catches. Call me a paranoid mommy, but I’d rather do the remote learning and avoid this dreaded virus.
By the time my husband gets home from work every day, I either want to take a nap or run screaming from the house.
But I really don’t want to leave my house. I don’t want to have to go to the stores anymore because I am sick to death of wearing a fricking mask everywhere I go, even though I know it is a necessary evil. I live in Texas, and the numbers are rising to critical levels. I have asthma that flares horribly with things like respiratory infections so while I know some get a mild case of COVID, I’m not really wanting to try my luck. It’s not exactly the greatest.
I feel as though I’m drowning most weeks, and the weekend is barely enough time to break the surface for a quick breath before diving back into the fray of the next week.
The juggling of school, entertaining and refereeing three kids 24/7, housework, meals, shopping to make sure we’re stocked in case they do tighten restrictions here or one of us gets sick and we have to all quarantine, etc. It’s overwhelming, and I feel as if I’m failing as a mother, wife, homemaker, and just in general.
2020 was supposed to be MY YEAR. You hear me world?
This was the year I was supposed to come into my own as a writer. Instead, I’m found lacking with EVERYTHING and accomplishing the bare minimum to keep treading water with my head barely breaking the surface.
Do you want honesty? Really?
I have no time to myself at all unless I stay up late at night. I pay for this when the alarms start again the next morning. When my autistic son has a bad day, I am no longer walking on eggshells but instead shards of glass. The worse his behaviors are, the more sanity I feel slipping through my fingers until some days I want to hide in a corner of the kitchen or my bedroom and give into tears. But crying gives me a headache and an extremely stopped up nose, and it’s hard to function with a headache and three kids. So again, no release of frustrations for this Mama.
I get it, you want someone to commiserate with and to be able to know you’re not the only one. But that is a tall order. In order for us to give you that honesty and realness you crave, we have to wallow in those feelings we’re trying to escape ourselves.
I have my moments, but I shake them off and find a new direction to focus on. I find the Pollyanna moments or laugh at my own misfortune because in doing so, I’m refusing to give in to depression and the black rabbit hole that leads to. I cannot allow myself to ruminate on my negative thoughts because it is too hard to extricate myself from that once I start.
Our positive spins are our way to escape the dismal world we now see out our car windows when we run errands.
It is our way to bring some light into the darkness that we see far too much of touching our little corners of the world. Yes, our job is to tell our truths and let others know they are not alone. But our job is also to create a spark that brings about the inspiration in others that they too, no matter the circumstance, can dust themselves off and start over again each day.
Dusting yourself off every day is not easy. Finding positivity is not easy.
Nothing about this world we find ourselves stuck in now is easy. The realness and honesty you’re searching for are right here, and none of it was easy to write. The support for those struggling through this year is just in front of you. It may be spun up into positivity. But here is the secret: while everyone wants to know someone else is going through this too, no one really wants to hear a writer whine about how bad things really are for them.
Love to all,