quarantine: day 23

the kids have been socially isolated for over 3 weeks now, and it isn’t bad at all.

^^ I started that entry April 6th. Here we are, a little over two weeks later, and oh how the mighty have fallen.

quarantine: day 39

the kids have been socially isolated for almost 6 weeks now, and it is a dumpster fire over here.

On one hand: Every day is a fresh start. Every hour is a new opportunity to be my best self. On the other: Every minute these kids are awake is another minute I am drained physically and emotionally. My house IRL- it’s loud and messy. Frank and Uly are running around screaming (happy screams or not happy ones) while pantless and/or shirtless, and Oliver is helping me with something, doing school work, or enjoying some well-earned game/screen time. I have no time alone and if i do it is for a specific reason (teaching yoga, cleaning or cooking), and I’ve yelled so much and so loud it actually caused me to choke today. Like, my throat hurt from shouting.

Now, most days, I really can hold it together and power through. I am an unstoppable force of mom who can cook and clean and parent like a god damn machine. I am cool as a cucumber, patient BEYOND patient, and there’s no end to my productivity. Today was not like that. Today I fell from my throne and down, down I went through the moon door.

I will absolutely give credit where it is due. Having an almost 13-yr-old to help me when I ask is AMAZING. Oliver is a hero. Truly. If I didn’t have him to help me out, I would have been committed. 100%. He does his chores (feed animals, take out trash, fold laundry when needed, dishes, etc), shows concern when I am emotional or visibly unhappy, and he tells me he loves me (everyday. multiple times) and I tells me I do a great job. everyday. He is so, so incredible and I am lucky to have him as a son. And when my hard-working husband isn’t in the office supporting our growing family, he helps out, too. My king knows when i need a minute and makes me feel appreciated. It’s just those intermittent unpredictable moments no one anticipates that I have to deal with (solo) that bring me to this breaking point. Bring me here. To vent. To complain. To share.

This quarantine is ongoing, too. Who knows when it will truly lift. End of May? June?? And when it does “lift,” who’ll feel safe enough to resume any sort of normality when our new normal is this sheltered, don’t touch anyone, germaphobic life? Am I being dramatic? Maybe. Fuck it, though. These are my thoughts and worries and they are valid, I think. I can’t be the only parent worrying about the aftermath of this mess. Are my kids going to be traumatized by my anger spurts? Do they think mom is berserk or do they not care? I want them to know I am not like this. Not really. I mean, yes i am flawed and yes i have emotions, but i am not this frustrated, angry mama. I want them to understand I love them and love our life and want to get out of this funk so badly. I know I’m not a bad mom. I know i am doing things good things, too… but gosh, some days just hit different (— i should ask Ollie if that’s the right way to use this phrase. Clearly I need to up my cool mom game).

And on a separate note: are there any other moms/stay-at-home parents out there serving their kiddos the same 4-5 meals day in and day out? I occasionally can get them to eat a healthy meal (the healthy good meals Jan approves of…), but for the most part it’s like pulling teeth. Currently, breakfast is the healthiest with fruits and yogurt and peanut butter toast or bagels. Lunch is dinosaur nuggets, mac and cheese, microwave pizzas, hotdogs, or pb&js… on repeat. in between these set “meals” there’s anywhere from 4-500 snacks served which either go into their bodies or are crumbled and smashed into the carpet and couch. and dinner is whatever i cook plus whatever snacks/leftovers they will eat because at that point I am exhausted and don’t care. I mean, I CARE… but you know what i mean. cooking and cleaning up after meals 3+ times a day for a family our size is a J O B. But, I am rationalizing their diets as acceptable because I really feel it could be worse and other people are feeling the same way. Not alone, am i right?

Writing all this down is helpful. I feel lighter. Well, not physically let’s be honest, I’m 200+ lbs carrying this Linnberg baby around inside me with 10 weeks yet to go. I do feel less stressed and somehow calmer getting all these thoughts off my brain. That IS what blogs are for, right? sure…

Thanks to my friends and family who listen to me when I need to gripe. Thank you for those who try facetiming me but get interrupted 20x by screaming kids. And thank YOU, reader… for setting aside time out of your day to read about this pregnant mama of 3 complain about things during a time where things could be lots worse.

xo

PS: don’t litter and tip your delivery drivers, guys. come on.