Lately, a walk through the park (even wearing a mask) has been a welcome escape from the confines of home. Throughout my life, swimming, singing, and reading books have provided opportunities for me to escape. But I rarely have access to a pool in my adult life, there are too many people in my home for me to sing every time I want to, and I’m embarrassed to admit how long it’s been since I’ve read a book for pleasure. I used to go through three books a week and tune out the world as I read. I found joy in reading to my children, or even sitting in the same room as we all read our own books. This week – after far too long – I finally started reading Becoming by Michelle Obama. It’s a relief to escape into someone else’s world, adventures, successes and struggles… As an educator in early childhood special/Deaf education and college/graduate level music therapy, I read somewhat constantly for work – and while I enjoy much of it, it’s not reading for the sake of reading, it’s not really by choice. I keep up with the newspaper as much as I can – especially the arts section and science times, but as of late, there’s so much about loss of work in the arts and concerns with Covid cases on the rise…I haven’t wanted to read that much about what’s going on in the world. Sometimes it’s just too much to take in. Mom-Blogs are great to read but, honestly, there are too many happy endings. I know – I just said I was reading too much negativity, and don’t get me wrong, I love happy endings. But ALWAYS? It’s just not realistic. Things don’t always resolve so neatly.
In mid-March, like most kids, my boys had to continue school from home, on line. They’re not quite as adorable and smiley anymore as they are in this ‘first day of school’ photo here. If only. I miss those days, though I’m sure I found them equally challenging at the time. My boys are now 19 and 21… they came home to continue their first and third years of college from their bedroom or our living room, on their laptops. They celebrated their birthdays at home – so I put together a surprise Zoom call for my older one. Twenty-one…I wanted there to be something to remember beyond ‘covid-19.’ He was initially SO annoyed that I told him “Nana wants to say Happy Birthday via video after dinner.” SO annoyed doesn’t really describe it. He used some not-so-lovely words and told me that HIS birthday was always about ME. Actually, it is so close to mother’s day, a day that usually winds up being about him, or everyone other than me. Anyway, he was pleasantly surprised that I figured out how to contact his friends from camp, high school and college to join family from near and far – everyone said ‘surprise!’, sang happy birthday, and chatted for a while – I had the chance to do a little activity which, of course, embarrassed him a bit before he continued the call with a small group of close friends who remained. So I guess it was a happy ending – but boy, it took a while to get there! He couldn’t go out to a restaurant or bar and order his first legal drink that night, but he was able to buy himself a gift, with his face mask on, at the liquor store. A rite of passage, I suppose. My first drink on my 21st birthday was provided by my ‘kids’ in the dorm where I was a Resident Advisor/Asst Hall Director, at the end of a long day of classes and play rehearsal. I had finally made it back to my room and just wanted to collapse, call my mom and go to bed. But there was the package at my door – followed by two of my residents complaining that their 3rd roommate was causing a problem and they needed me to intervene. Reluctantly I followed them down the hall to find all my residents in the room with a cake, yelling ‘surprise!’. Fun memories. I just hope that when my younger one turns 21, the corona virus is truly a thing of the past… Not that he will need to go to a bar in order to celebrate his 21st birthday – it would just be nice for him to be able to be with friends. (I do have a feeling, though, that many people have found a drink to be their escape while ‘sheltered in place.’)
Sheltering in place… We’ve had select moments here and there, though honestly it has been anything but ‘sweet’ to be home all together these past few months. My husband and I were supposed to be ’empty-nesters.’ Initially that made me really sad; my kids had grown up, gone away to school, moved onto a new chapter in their lives. We knew it was temporary, but no sooner had I begun to kind of like it, did they move back in with no real end in sight. Their summer jobs were even cancelled. I transitioned Baby Fingers to a virtual program as much as possible so I could keep my teaching team working a bit… a lofty goal and not an easy process. [However, we’re having a blast in our on-line classes. If you haven’t registered yet for a class, it’s time!] My husband and I also both teach for colleges, so with the four of us at home, there were many hours each day that at least 3 of us needed private, quiet space to take or teach classes. Now college semesters are over, but there are still times when more than one of us needs a private, quiet place for a meeting or a class, to practice guitar or drums, have a Zoom call for fun, or simply to be alone for a few minutes. We don’t have an attic or a basement or a garage or a back yard, so I had made a color-coded schedule to hang on the fridge to minimize the arguments when it came to who got the bedrooms behind closed doors and who had to be in the living room while someone else was there working out in our new mini ‘home gym’, or watching TV with headphones…Color coded schedule and all, somehow the arguments still happened. It was agreed that the drum set and the beds couldn’t be moved out of the bedroom, yet that didn’t keep one brother from being angry with the other for needing the space.
We have a small and simple home. It’s lovely and cozy and comfortable. My husband was a genius when he researched and purchased murphy beds for the bedrooms, beautifully maximizing our space. But lately it feels crowded and cluttered and disorganized. Also loud – the music, the TV, the arguments. I am someone who truly loves to hear the sound of laughter. Unless it’s mean-spirited, of course, I welcome it pretty much regardless of what else is going on – especially when it’s coming from kids, and it used to melt my heart to hear their little voices call me ‘mommy’. I liked making their bookshelves look nice and keeping their closets neat… now while I long to hear them laughing rather than fighting, I also long for some quiet, and I try to avoid their room most of the time.
I’ve always worked part time from home. However, having to balance parenting young adults with 100% of my work from home and limited opportunities to be with friends, colleagues, students and clients is not easy. I have the good fortune of still having my work. And yes, I can also go out without worrying about not having a babysitter. We have our health and one day I’m sure I’ll miss them so terribly, perhaps I’ll look back on this time feeling grateful that we were together. Perhaps.
Becoming a parent, I knew that meant one day my kids would grow up and move out. As difficult as parenting is at various stages (and nearly every day), I never thought I’d actually want them out. But I want them out. Yes, at the same time, I never want them to leave. I think they feel the same way. There’s no neat way to tie it all up. It’s a struggle, it’s a challenge, I question my parenting skills and choices every day (even multiple times each day), I wonder how I could be treated with such disrespect by someone I’ve showered with love, I then question my professional self because I have a deep understanding of child development and human behavior… I feel the challenges of being a good role model for adapting to change and dealing with stress when I’m trying to adapt and deal…
So now I just have to trust that I’ve given my kids the love and guidance they need to survive living with us and living on their own, pandemic or not. This story is not yet over, but of course I’m hoping for a real happy ending. Or at least a little me-time and not a huge argument. 😉 Life as a parent certainly isn’t ‘a walk in the park.’
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A slightly condensed version of this blog has been published on the Red Tricycle Spoke Network.
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