What a shitshow this year has been.
Last year was difficult. At least one out of the three kids was sick every other week. One need an operation, one broke a bone. And then the pandemic hit.
Thankfully – everyone is relatively healthy.
I haven’t had the time to really process this year – all the difficult emotions. The immense loss, fear, frustration, isolation, anger. I feel like I am going to need years of therapy to process 2020 and possibly 2021.
I’ve been lucky – we’ve been lucky. We have a roof over our head, food on the table, our health and I even rejoined the workforce in the middle of the pandemic.
But still – the mental load of taking care of a family, being the household CEO with zero time off, zero time to recharge my dead batteries, being needed 24/7 for months when we were all locked down together is a whole different level then the most difficult period of my life – when I was going through fertility treatments to have children.
I wake up knowing that my disposition will affect my kids and my partner. It is mentally taxing to know that I can’t have a shitty day alone – I must be patient and calm so my household won’t turn into a crying, yelling mess.
I turned 40 in 2020 and it was the most pathetic birthday even for one who hates celebrating her birthday. It was right in the beginning of the first lockdown – so nothing was open, no one was delivering anything. My partner tried to celebrate the momentous occasion but with no one open – it was impossible. We had a low key celebration with just our family (which was lovely) but… I had big plans for celebrating this birthday. And I missed celebrating with my besties.
When I was a kid, I just couldn’t picture 2020. It sounded so … I don’t even know. Futuristic. I could grasp 2019 but 2020…. just couldn’t wrap my head around 2020. All I know is that it was a good thing I couldn’t picture 2020 – because no one could have imagined *this*.
So if this past week isn’t a metaphor, I don’t know what is. It started off with one kid coming down with a fever, then being diagnosed with hand, foot and mouth disease. Then less than two hours later, picking up the other toddler who came down with a high fever. Oh, and then we pulled the eldest out of gan in case they too caught the virus.
It’s been a rough week. With very little sleep but lots of smiles and cuddles. My kids are pretty happy (even when sick) – and for that, we are truly blessed.
And today, on the first day of 2021, I have hope. Because we are starting off the new year with two out of the three back to themselves and back in school (with approval from their Dr).
Light. I see light at the end of this tunnel.
Vaccines. 10% of my local population has already received their first dose.
2021, you bring me hope.
And lots of therapy.
Oh, and I beg of you – sleep.