We’ve all probably seen post after post with color-coded schedules, activities for kids, and how to home school efficiently by now. But there are many more of us parents just trying to get through. I am one of them. I haven’t ever been the mom that does “planned activities.” I have barely limited screen time, and once I made the leap into my child going to preschool I thought, “why did I not do this sooner?” Teachers are great! They allow me to have a life! So as the days of quarantine seem to drag on, there have been far more moments trying to sort through my feelings – learning to just survive and do the next right thing – than there has been of scheduled days. And I know I am not alone. And yes I just quoted FROZEN 2.
FROZEN 2 is my coparent.
For one, before the news truly broke, we were starting construction in our house. There were rumors of this virus in China, but we didn’t think it would impact us. We didn’t have a choice anyway, there was black mold all through the walls of our bathroom! It was so bad it was growing mushrooms. So even as the news started spreading that schools might be closing soon, we were crossing our fingers this work could get done first.
Spoiler: it didn’t.
So while we have tried to limit our interactions with other people by only going out for necessities and do a fully quarantined household, we still had a worker or two in and out of our house all last week. The stress was mounting and my anxiety was higher than ever as I sanitized dozens of times a day. The workers came in and out and I tried in desperation to keep my toddler away from them.
And I felt guilt. The most intense mom guilt, that I wasn’t the mom that could just come up with fun projects or implement activities.
I crossed my fingers, felt the anxiety of the unknown, and tried to play outside with my daughter. I relied on FROZEN 2 to distract her when I wanted to cry. Anna’s song “The Next Right Thing” has become my soundtrack.
Just get through breakfast with her, then do the next right thing.
Oh you didn’t do that thing? It’s okay. Just get outside. Watch Dinosaur Train. Get through lunch. Get to quiet time, to dinner, to movie time, to bedtime. It all started to blend together. By Thursday I had no idea what day it was until I asked my husband. I talked to other friends who were trying to do what I was doing PLUS work from home. Often working for jobs that expected them to be just as productive with toddlers and babies at their feet.
I felt like I didn’t even deserve to be as nervous or stressed.
But I couldn’t help it. I was spiraling. I constantly worried about the exposure level of having other people come into our house. Every night I secretly had panic attacks in the bathroom after putting my daughter to bed. Mostly, I obsessed over the worry that this quarantine may impact the birth of my child due in 3 months.
Would we still be under these circumstances then? I had no answers.
By the end of one full week of staying home with my child there was news that everyone in California should be sheltering in place. We still had giant holes in our walls.
After watching Governor Newsom’s press conference, I went straight from anxiety to depression. I felt the emotions crash over me. Our days had no rhythm. Our nights full of fear.
Now at that moment, it all became reality. Not worry about what could be, but confirmation of what is.
That the COVID-19 pandemic had spread to the point that we all needed to truly fully isolate. That there would be no end to these types of days any time soon. What would I do about this construction? How would I protect my daughter and myself? How could I keep from spreading this if I’m asymptomatic?
This was going to be a very long time of trying to just survive.
As this information washed over me, my three-year-old sweet girl wanted what she always wants: my attention. She brought me her favorite dinosaur book and asked me to read it.
My voice trembled as I read and tears started to flow though I tried to hold them in. My daughter’s eyes grew wide as she looked at me. Her little chin started to wobble. I said,
“Oh I’m sorry baby! Mommy just is a little sad. Mommies get sad sometimes too. I’m so sorry.”
She started to cry too and said,
“No mommy sad! Juni sad! Juni scared!”
That’s when it hit me. As I had been talking about the seriousness of this situation for over a week all around her, I hadn’t allowed my daughter to see me upset. She definitely hadn’t seen me work through those big emotions. She didn’t know what to do with a mommy not holding it together. Surviving this, just getting by was just fine, but it also meant surviving these emotions.
I had to teach her to work through her emotions by working through my own.
I looked at her and wiped her tears and my own and said,
“It’s okay to be scared and sad. Mommy feels that way too sometimes. But then Mommy takes a big deep breath and gets a hug from Daddy or you or the doggies and Mommy starts to feel better.
It’s going to be okay, but it’s okay to have big feelings. Everyone has big feelings sometimes. We will be like Anna and just do the next right thing.”
She sat and thought about that for a minute. Her breathing slowed and we hugged tight. Then she offered me her milk, her comfort object. She was showing empathy, probably for the first time. Empathy is a learned behavior.
Since then, I’ve let those big emotions go.
I’ve accepted our situation to a degree. We decided to leave the house for the next few days to stay with family that has been under strict quarantine so that we aren’t exposed to the workers, and then will have my husband go in and sanitize before we go back. We just focus on doing the next right thing. But we also cry when we need to. We let go of control.
Two lessons that Anna and Elsa have taught me. Let it go, and do the next right thing. It’s okay to just survive this.
