My Coronavirus Breaking Point - A Mother's Day Edition
It wasn’t my best weekend as a parent. But after almost 8 years of being a mom, you’re bound to have some days that are better than others. As I aptly stated in 2014, I’m a doctor of physical therapy with an elementary degree in parenting.
Despite my general optimism, I think I hit my breaking point with life as we currently know it. My doctorate lends me the ability to analyze events like Covid-19 on a deeper level, so I have been elbows deep in research to try to better understand the pandemic, its impact on our community, and our best approach to navigate these waters.
My limited education on parenting, however, has offered me no intel on how to cope with 2 boisterous young ladies who have not been able to hug their friends, grandparents, or teachers in 2 months. My daughters have spent approximately half of the last month as real-live Rock ‘Em, Sock ‘Em Robots (thankfully, the other 50% of the time they’re best friends).
My graduate studies taught me to think outside the box and to be proactive instead of reactive. I have been thrust into the world of telehealth which I had never previously considered, and it’s working well. I still feel like we can practice our unique Redpoint bedside manner and effective treatment style through virtual visits.
The 2 days of baby class that I took prior to starting this “mom” job did not teach me how to home school my children. I have no idea how to find the balance between being too tough and too easy. I know I’m not alone. (Raise your hand if you feel like you were actually cut out for home schooling!)
Even Mama Swan looks like she is having words with her offspring. At least they’re all looking at her.
My 3 years of advanced education prepared me for an ever-changing medical world, and I feel like I could just about handle the novel coronavirus pandemic, but there was no training course for the way life has turned since March. And I cannot… stand… this weather… ANYMORE!
We got outside this weekend… but Sunday’s wind and chilly temps were the proverbial straw that broke this camel’s back. I quit yesterday. I checked out. I was absent as a mother and a wife.
I hit my breaking point.
I can admit it – I am saturated with all-things “Coronavirus” and their impact on our world. I know I’m not alone. The new Facebook emoji reminds me that “we are all in this together”… and we are. My hurdles are your hurdles.
Like you, I am tired of seeing wonderful restaurants advertising take out menus for food that’s not meant for take-out. I am tired of feeling obligated to get take-out once a week to keep my favorite restaurants alive.
Like you, I am tired of having to worry about all of small business in town that won’t survive – businesses that are run by mothers and fathers and daughters and sons who use them to build a better life for their families.
Like you, I am tired of educating people on the ins and outs of the pandemic and battling misinformation of the interwebs.
Like (some of) you, I am tired of online shopping.
I am tired of remembering to tell my kids to put their masks back when we get home so we have them for our next walk.
I am tired of breaking up my kids’ fights… though that’s not really a NEW thing.
We miss school. We miss Target. We miss eating at restaurants once a month. We miss having a full schedule at work. We miss play dates. We miss in-person visits with parents. We miss moms’ nights out and we miss our kids being excited to see each other at the end of the day.
I can certainly appreciate the down time this period of life has granted me. While I do miss dance class, swimming lessons, and spring soccer… I am grateful for time to breathe.
And… despite all of this, I feel very lucky. My team and I put in enough hard work that we will get through to the other side of this mess. We are here and open and, if you are suffering, we can help. We take precautions and ask that our patients do so, as well… but we are definitely here for you, whether it is through telehealth or in-person. We all have to deal with a lot of roadblocks in this “new normal”. Your pain isn’t one of them. We can fix that.
I suppose my family will survive, too. But yesterday, I hit a wall, and that’s okay. It’s OK if you do too. Join the club. Today’s a new day, and the sun is shining.
Happy belated mother’s day to all the mamas reading this.