During these days of isolation, I have been purging files — cleaning out family history folders and having my daughter help me scan photos, documents, and histories and post them on FamilySearch.
It makes us both feel productive, and I love reducing the loads of paper I’ve been hauling around for so long.
The process can be a little slow and tedious because I take too much time reading, remembering, and then, wondering whether I can actually throw some things away that have such sentimental value.
Today, I found a little gem that I wrote many years ago that must be shared because it probably expresses how some moms might feel today after having their kids home from school now for what feels like forever.
“I love my kids. The snow is pretty. I love my kids. The snow is pretty.“
I’ve been repeating this mantra now for weeks.
It is not working anymore.
I love my kids, but enough already.
They need to be in school.
I need them to be in school.
First, it was 9/11 when they were in lockdown at school and we couldn’t wait to get them home, but we couldn’t go anywhere without worrying about terrorists.
Then, it was the snippers on the loose, and we couldn’t go anywhere for fear of being shot. The kids couldn’t even play outside at recess.
And, now it’s the snow that just won’t stop, requiring school to be canceled for what seems like forever.
The news folks aren’t helping things because they report on the snow with such enthusiasm and excitement.
Enough already with the news!
I find myself being mad at D.C. and its wimpy ways when it comes to snow.
I tell my kids, “When I grew up in Utah, we never missed school because of the snow.”
“Whatever, mom” they say as they roll their eyes back into their pretty little heads.
Did I mention that these eye-rolling-whatever-mom kids should be in school?
I’m worried about them losing all their brain power because they watch TV shows that suck out all their intelligence. I’m sure I’m going to find the contents of their brains spilled out in messy puddles all over the house any day now.
I want to talk to them about things other than code orange days, evacuation plans, and hoarding duct tape. (Why we need the tape is beyond me.)
And why do we keep hearing that we need evacuation plans? Evacuating is not an option because we can barely get out of our neighborhoods, let alone to our “planned family safety zones.”
Maybe an evacuation wouldn’t be so bad right now.
Wait, what am I saying?
I didn’t really mean that.
You know I didn’t really mean it. It’s just that I’m feeling a little frayed around the edges, a little more irritable than usual.
I tried yoga to calm myself down and I felt very zen until I walked into the family room and heard Sponge Bob Square Pans’ squeaky prepubescent voice singing about living in a pineapple under the sea…again.
My only coping mechanism is to go into the bathroom where I can be alone. Except that doesn’t work either because the dog parks himself outside the door and whines until I come out.
So, I try to propel myself forward by envisioning the happy day when life is normal and these beautiful, yellow stretch limousines pull up near our house and my girls can’t wait to climb in them. These luxury vehicles carry them away to a wonderful place of learning called SCHOOL, and they are happy to be there because they have missed seeing their friends, discussing math, science, English, and history, and learning songs in French. They can’t wait to do their homework and go to soccer practice, dance class, and resume piano lessons.
I imagine they are safe and the world is a good place, and I can go to the gym, the grocery store, the mall, have lunch with my friends, keep the house clean, cook less, turn the TV off, and then happily gather with them in the late afternoon to hear all about what happened while they were at school. I will soak it up because I will have missed them so much in those short hours we were apart.
Oh, imagine the joy that will one day be mine.
But, for now, I repeat these words: “I love my kids. The snow is pretty. I love my kids. The snow is pretty.”