She arrived at our empty bedroom because we were in the kitchen, eating dessert and relaxing. My husband went upstairs to find her panicked that we were not there, totally confused about what was happening, and slowly walked her back to bed, explaining that the owl is still getting used to our house and must have been confused. He’s good at those on-the-fly details.
***
I’ve heard repeatedly this week that the weariness has really hit hard. For weeks now, we’ve rallied as best as we can to create a “new normal,” and we dug deep to keep up our energy through a roller coaster of growing pains, but all of that is starting to crack and fade away. We are tired, we are confused, and we need some reassurance that help is on the way.
Let’s start with tiredness. My 10 year-old son slept until 9 one morning this week. Somehow that didn’t make me feel any less tired. Weird. My husband and I have been treated to waking up at 5:15 without an alarm these days because that’s when the birds start chirping, which means that’s also when our twins start chirping. Perhaps you’re familiar with that piece of wisdom about putting children to bed later so they will sleep later? If so, then you know that wishing for something and getting something are two different beasts. Toddlers and logic are like oil and water--they don’t mix. But I digress. It’s no surprise that having young children means that I may have gone for a walk, eaten two meals, cleaned the kitchen, done a load of laundry, painted, scooted, and changed clothes three times before 9 am. But keeping that up in the context of doing 16 jobs all day only allows one to remain human for so long.
Let’s keep that in mind when I note that I woke up that 10 year old at 9 am (so he could get dressed and eat breakfast before his morning meeting) and was not met with a delighted smile and deep appreciation of having gotten a great night’s sleep. As you might imagine, my level of empathy for being “forced” awake by a gentle rub on the back was in the negative numbers.
And let’s keep that in mind when I tell you about the next part of my day. As the learning coach part of my day began, my 10 year old started by putting down his brother for not knowing something. Then the 7 year old was falling off his chair, complaining about everything placed in front of him, and doing his darndest to push every literal and figurative button of mine at his disposal. As Mike Barbiglia would say, “what I should have said was nothing!” If I were a more human version of myself, I might have remembered an effective strategy or been able to empathize. I might have reminded myself that my 7 year old has been a trooper, staying positive, engaged, and playful throughout this quarantine. But keeping the context already mentioned in mind, I didn’t do any of these things. Instead, I said, “We can watch this video lesson all day!” I’m just going to leave it at that. You don’t need to think too hard to imagine how well that went over.
Let’s move on to confusion. While our girls have been thrilled to have their brothers around so much, it is quite confusing to them who will be available to them at any given time or day. There is no bus to mark a school day. There is no office to mark my work day. There is no outing to mark a weekend. And perhaps because of those missing signals, one of our twins is expressing her confusion by insisting on the least convenient person as the only possible person who can help her at a particular time. Once Dad is at work, he is the only person allowed to put on her shoes or change her diaper. When one of her brothers is in a school meeting, only he can give her the toy she wants. We all try to wait out the soundtrack of screaming until that sweet little voice asks for what she wants nicely, but even then we all tiptoe ever so gingerly in our soothing, worried we might accidentally strike the match that will set off the next fire.
Finally, let’s get to some reassurance. Despite the craziness and exponential amounts of guilt I shouldered this week, clearly not being my best self, we made it to Friday. And our exhaustion and disorientation turned to pure silliness. My 7 year old’s class celebrated a Fancy Friday morning meeting and he wore a button-down shirt with not just a tie, but also a bow tie! (Listening in, I got to hear one classmate question whether leopard print is really fancy like her mom insisted.) One of the twins wanted to get in on the Fancy Friday action, so she wore a sparkly bow tie with her dress. She pretended to have “academic time,” and took out a white board and markers to write some “worms.” (Some misconceptions are just too delightful to correct.)
My 10 year old’s Friday math assignment was to use his own experience to write a word problem. This was what he came up with:
I shared this problem with my actual brother, who happens to be named Sam, who rightfully asked if he was being implicated in a murder. I can’t say for certain one way or the other.
The laughter that has overtaken us today reminds me of the importance of humor right now, just like this therapist noted in her piece entitled, The Toilet is the New Couch. And if sweetness is your jam and you haven’t already seen this amazing video making the rounds, check out this dad reading a bedtime story to his kids, supposedly in the future, about how the world changed for the better because of the virus. We can only hope!
No comments:
Post a Comment