It’s 7:34 a.m. The birds are chirping away and it’s dark, cloudy, and gloomy outside. But for once I don’t care. Because it’s warm and cozy inside our cocoon and we have big plans for today: baking, Scrabble, family movie night (followed by a new episode of our beloved Outlander!). The best part about today, though, is the surprise indoor scavenger hunt I created for my kids. They are going to love it, and I can’t wait to see their reactions!! (I’ll post a picture of my list at the end of this post in case anyone wants to borrow it.) 😊
But all of this made me think about something. One of the best things about this quarantine—at least for me—is that it’s erased the competitiveness, the one-up-ness, the insecurity surrounding parenting these days. Let me explain. The primary reason I hate Facebook, and why I gave it up for Lent last year and this year—is because it always makes me feel bad inside, especially as a mom. It’s so tiring to watch everyone compete for who’s the happiest. It’s all a lie. I’m including myself in this, too, make no mistake. Many a time I’ve found myself posting pictures or comments or sharing memes to prove my family are happy and have a fun, exciting life! And then I feel ashamed. Because while we certainly aren’t unhappy, we’ve got our fair share of stresses, anxieties, fears—all things no one ever talks about, especially on Facebook. It’s much easier to act as if we’ve got life all figured out. That we’re strong and fulfilled and popular and busy.
So, what a relief that we’re all stuck in the same boat right now. We don’t have to pretend we’re not struggling or bored or depressed or afraid or alone or insecure because for once we all are feeling those things. We’re all under quarantine. We’re all separated from our (extended) families. No one’s hosting parties (at least they shouldn’t be). No one’s enjoying Broadway shows or concerts or eating out or going to the movies. No one’s traveling. No one’s vacationing. No one’s doing anything. We’re just being. We’re just surviving. United.
And yeah, in a way that’s horrifying. But it’s also refreshing as hell. Because it’s real. It’s raw. It’s honest. We don’t have to pretend we know the hardships someone else is going through because we do know. And with this knowing comes compassion, understanding, and solidarity—all of which we so desperately need today.
Who knows, maybe that’s God’s plan. To unleash these rains upon us until we’re ready to bloom again and make this world a better place. I’m gonna think about that the next time I’m feeling blue. For now, though, I’m going to sit, listen to the birds sing, and give thanks for the rain.
