Forget the New Year: I’m Making Post-Covid Resolutions

My driveway where I walk almost every day while making mental resolutions for the other side of Covid-19. A girl can dream!

It’s officially fall, and while most people are overdosing on pumpkin spice and dragging their sweaters out of storage, I’m over here phoning in the fall season. While I love the leaves and their cheery colors, bowls of soup with bread, and the smoky scent of firewood, I’m already looking ahead.

It’s already been the worst fall of all time. I’m dreaming of a next fall when hayrides, tailgates and potlucks are the norm again. Sure, I can live in the moment—what choice do I have?—but I don’t think it’s too soon to start making some resolutions for a post-Covid world. 

I’ve decided that I’m skipping New Year’s resolutions. I’m going straight for what we’re all waiting and pining for that isn’t tethered to a date on the calendar. As soon as someone gives the all-clear that we can stop tiptoeing through our lives like nervous cats, I hope I remember these resolutions and live them well.

My Top 20 Post-Covid Resolutions

  1. Dress up and wear something that makes me feel awesome at least twice a week.
  2. Entertain more at home and crash your party. Who cares if our homes are clean? Clean is overrated.
  3. Hug everyone, give out kisses, invade personal space. I’ll bring the breath mints.
  4. Travel abroad and take the trips I was saving for someday.
  5. Bring back the mosh pit.
  6. Decrease my screen time. Screens aren’t our friends. Humans are.
  7. Forgive and move on. Life is short. An angry life is bitter and lonely.
  8. Shake hands with anyone and everyone. Hold hands with the people I love.
  9. Write the book.
  10. Ditch Amazon and go shopping. Browse the aisles. Touch things, smell things and try before you buy. Champion the resurgence of retail!
  11. Take a swing dancing class.
  12. Buy the tickets. Go to a nerd-fest fan convention or a writer’s conference.
  13. Visit Disney World or Universal Studios and never complain about long lines again.
  14. Stay for the reception. Dance.
  15. Go to all the parades.
  16. Make time for the family visits and do the traditions. Make them count.
  17. Double dip.
  18. Turn off the news and do something newsworthy (something legal and positive, of course).
  19. Schedule and keep the coffee date, the lunch, or the movie night with a favorite friend. Catch up with the people who always say, “we need to catch up.”
  20. Build a massive bonfire and invite everyone over to Burn. Our. Masks!
A proper high school Homecoming bonfire pre-Covid. Personally, I’m looking forward to the most epic mask-burning bonfire of all time!

I made my resolutions as realistic as I possibly could. They’re within reason, right? When reason is something we get the luxury to enjoy again, I will be ready. 

What are your post-Covid resolutions? If you’re like most humans on earth at this moment, there’s a fairly good chance you already have a list all your own. Like mine, your list may seem silly in relation to a deadly pandemic, but mental health is important too.

Writing down our goals by reflecting on what we’ve learned isn’t naive if it also makes us feel good. Feeling good is a worthy investment of our time right now. It’s also a boost for the immune system!

Visualizing what we’ll do with our unhampered hours once we get them back is the first step to redeeming some of what we’ve lost this year.

Commit to something different and a new appreciation of what’s important to you in the post-Covid years of your lives.

If anyone has an update on when that begins, just let me know.

Until then, make the resolutions. Start working on them now. Trash the ones you’re making for 2021. Lord knows we wish we could take back our 2020 resolutions. After all, hindsight is … well, you know the rest.

Surviving Covid-19: When Your Worst-Case Scenario is the Scenario

Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.

One week ago, I was hopeful that my family would be turning the corner back toward normal in just a few days—normal being a relative term these days, of course.

To rewind, my husband, a high school football coach, had been quarantined from our family and others for several days following Covid-19 exposure. Sadly, he had to miss coaching a game for the first time in 22 years.

Before that quarantine was up, he had some flu-like symptoms, but after two negative Covid tests and no more fever, we all thought it was safe for him to get back to work. A new week was beginning, and we would hit reset then, right?

Wrong. Our worst-case scenario was only beginning.

After he got cleared to coach a football game last Friday night, he woke up Saturday feeling horrible. That same day, I had him check his oxygen level with a small device that my Dad sent to us over six months ago. Truthfully, I thought it was one of those weird items that your parents buy on QVC. I had stuck it in the back of the bathroom closet and forgot about it.

But then I remembered hearing that low oxygen levels are a telltale warning sign with Covid, so I dug it out of the closet. My husband’s oxygen level that day was 95. It was lower than what you want to see, but still in the safe zone.

Not the Friday Night Lights we hoped for as my husband attempts to assist in coaching while quarantined in his Suburban.

On Sunday, his hacking cough never seemed to end, and he could barely talk. So we checked it again. This time it was 92. I decided to call a physician who recommended he see a doctor in the morning to confirm the reading and seek necessary care. Suddenly we were preparing for bad news—what if he did have Covid-19 after all?

At 8 a.m. the next morning, his oxygen level read 86. It was time to go to the doctor and accept the strong possibility that his Covid test had been wrong. By the time he got to the doctor’s office, his oxygen number had plummeted to 81. He was sent straight to the ER where he was hospitalized and diagnosed with Covid-19. I know now that my Dad’s gift may have saved my husband’s life.

For the next three days, he remained at the hospital in isolation from us and anyone else except an excellent team of healthcare professionals. He received an intensive protocol of oxygen, breathing treatments, Remdesivir, antibiotics, and steroids. He wasn’t put on a respirator because he had no underlying health issues and was breathing well enough on his own. In just a few days, he made huge leaps and was home with us again.

Unfortunately, coming home was hardly the caboose of this crazy train.

For starters, we remain completely separated from him as he continues to heal. I have not slept in our bed for almost a month. To be anywhere near my husband to deliver food or medicine, we both wear masks while he stays far away. He can have no interaction with us except through doors or our cell phones. It also means that we’re back to a quarantine lifestyle outside of the house too. So yes, that means high school homeschool has resumed—groan.

To make things much, much worse, this all happened during football season, meaning that everything has been shut down for two weeks. Two big games are now gone. Memories and opportunities for my son and his teammates are now gone. Many lives have had to change their plans because Covid had plans of its own. I seriously couldn’t have written a more depressing story. For us, it feels like the worst-case scenario came true.

Thankfully, despite all this doom and gloom, I know that our scenario truly wasn’t the absolute worst. My husband survived and everyone is fine, even as our story continues to unfold. We are still living in this story and learning a lot about the disease, our attitudes, our priorities, and our survival skills. We’re also learning more about God’s mercy, our faith, and the value of community.

Regarding our relationship with the disease, my 20-year old son also had Covid two months ago, and he still hasn’t regained 100% of his taste and smell. I sincerely hope that the worst is over for this household. I believe we will overcome it, but what that looks like is out of focus. I wish I could be more optimistic, but we are a long way from the days of toilet paper memes. Weren’t those the best days?

I think it’s now probably safe to say that this virus may be inevitable if you’re going to be out and about among the living. We should continue to exercise common sense and precautions, of course, but I think it’s far more tenacious than I ever imagined. It honestly sucks. 

In full transparency, I’ll share what the sucky side of Covid life looks like at our house right now.

I make everyone sanitize their hands all day long and I bleach clean everything constantly. Our home smells like a hospital. I’m tired of choking down huge vitamins.

I’m a cranky and unimaginative cook. No one wants leftovers, and we fuss a lot about food. I yell things like, “no one cooks full meals during the day unless they’re Amish!

I’ve lost my home office (aka the master bedroom), and have had to call clients from the laundry room this week.

My boys miss watching and talking football with their Dad. We all miss hugs and physical touch.

My husband misses social contact. I honestly don’t know how he’s made it in isolation this long. He mostly spends his days alone despite our best efforts to remind him we’re here.

Even our two cats know that something is up, and they’ve been sleeping in weird places. Yesterday I stepped on a fresh hairball in the living room with bare feet. That was a low point.

We’re all more sensitive and irritable and prone to complain about anything. No one is sleeping on a regular schedule. It just seems impossible given the circumstances.

It’s very easy to slip into pity party thinking when that’s the only party you’re attending at the moment.

On a positive note, and there is one, we have also received incredible support from near and far. We can’t figure out why, but apparently, people love us! In an ironic twist, the most viral thing we have ever done as a family is to come down with a killer virus, no pun intended (okay, actually it’s a perfect pun).

Not that I recommend catching Covid-19 to be reminded of how many friends you have, but it has given us a beautiful picture of the people in our corner. While the last few weeks have been exhausting and disheartening at times, we have also felt such a powerful calm and confidence from the outpouring of support and prayers.

I am 100% convinced that our journey through this weird, dark place was strengthened and accelerated through prayer. Prayers, texts, calls, and gestures of kindness have brought us comfort in the face of uncertainty.

I know our story is just one of millions in this continuing saga. Our experience with Covid-19 has been an unfortunate, annoying setback that was scary for a short time. We do not take this for granted. Many families have not had the same outcome. This disease is random and relentless, but it will not define us as a family, a community, a country, and as people. 

We still get to choose how to respond to whatever it hurls at us. We aren’t perfect and will experience highs and lows as we process our response. But if I’ve learned anything while spending time with the ‘Rona, I’ve discovered that we are stronger than we think we are. God built us with incredible fortitude and He is always near. 

I am forever grateful to those who haven’t let us forget it.

10 surprising reasons to love your mask

As the pandemic lingers on, and on, and on, the odds are you’ll be wearing a mask sometime, somewhere. Even if you’re a diehard anti-masker, you know you’re eventually going inside the grocery store or to visit your dentist. So whether you’re sporting a mask reluctantly or enthusiastically, you still know the drill.

Cover your nose, cover your mouth, and try not to choke on your own hot breath.

While it doesn’t take much effort to think about all the things that we loathe about our masks, I invite you to consider some of their lesser known benefits. If you can’t get behind the idea that wearing them could actually get us back to normal sooner, (remember normal?), then you can maybe embrace these perks.

  1. Masks are a shield against bad breath.
    This benefit goes both ways. Yes, we’re supposed to be socially distant, but let’s be honest. You have smelled terrible breath from six feet away. I’ll stop there.

  2. You can hide unsightly blemishes and unwanted hair with a mask.
    Don’t feel like shaving today? Wear your mask. Have a fresh crop of chin acne because your mask is also a portable petri dish? No problem. A mask is now the most effective concealer that money can buy.

  3. Masks help you avoid getting trapped in awkward conversations.
    You’ll get home from the grocery store in record time when you can quickly smile with your eyes and then dart away. What’s his name again? Who cares? I’ll never escape, she talks forever without taking a breath! Don’t panic. Your mask just saved the day.

  4. Wearing a mask is an amazing anti-aging technique.
    From the bridge of your nose down, your skin will enjoy extra protection from the elements and the sun. If mask wearing continues indefinitely, we could someday resemble Batman’s nemesis, Two-Face, but for now let’s call it face insurance.

    maskstand

    I spotted this booth in Hilton Head, S.C. in May. I thought it was ridiculous at the time. Little did I know that just a few months later, it would seem like a great idea.

  5. Masks are bringing sexy back to sewing.
    Men, women and children across the globe are learning and sharing a craft that is proving to be forever useful and in vogue. I personally can’t wait to see what the designers on Project Runway are going to do with pandemic fashion this season.

  6. Masks are the new “it” accessory.
    Speaking of the runway, be truthful with yourself. Unless you’re a supermodel, masks are probably the most avant-garde thing you’ll ever wear. You might as well have a little fun with your options. From floral to tie-dye to tartan to bedazzled, there’s a style for everyone.

  7. You can make a personal statement with your mask.
    Be it your politics, your faith, your team, or even your favorite Star Wars character, you can express yourself a little bolder behind a mask. It’s like a tiny billboard for your face. Introverts, this is your time. Now is your chance to say it, but just don’t spray it (sorry, I had to).

  8. Behind a mask, you can overcome your stage fright.
    If you’ve always wanted to try karaoke, public speaking, or stand-up comedy, a mask just might give you the courage to make a bold move. And if you bomb and realize your horrible mistake, just run away and no one will ever remember your terrified face.

  9. Masks can be creepy when needed.
    Listen up parents! You may need an extra layer of authority once the kids’ hybrid online and/or socially spaced school year begins. A little healthy fear can go a long way when you’re trying to get a teenager out of bed for his Zoom class OR make your first grader stop licking her face shield. Masks can also be loads of fun for intimidating your nosy neighbors, who may or may not be named Karen.

  10. Masks can make us friends again.
    On these insanely shifting sands in the world right now, we need some solid, common ground where we can stand together. When we’re all masked up and our eyes meet across a room or a parking lot, we no longer need to say a word. There is a telling look or a nod, and our eyes share a truth that our faces often fail to communicate. This great equalizer may leave us knowing our neighbor a little better, even if we never recognize them again.
redbubblemask-1

Looking for something original? Check out redbubble.com where artists create pop culture and fashionable designs. Most orders take several weeks to arrive right now, but I still think this one was totally worth the wait!

How to get past the pandemic blues

 

stormblog

Professional photos aren’t in my budget, so I volunteered myself as a “tribute” for this photo to illustrate my pandemic blues. Note I am NOT a “Happy Camper.” Photo credit goes to my son, Canon, who is still making fun of me and refused to take any more (see outtakes below).

My usual bubbly perspective has lost its fizz lately. It isn’t easy for me to admit, but I think I may have been suffering from a case of the pandemic blues.

What, you say, are the pandemic blues?

Go put your sweatpants back on, watch about 30 minutes of any 24-hours news channel, and BAM… you’ll be right there with me. The thing is, I’ve tried to fight the blues by wearing real clothes and make-up, making plans, venturing out, exercising, avoiding the news, and relying on optimism, prayer and cinnamon gummy bears to get me through this waiting game.

But as I’ve been dodging and pretending, I’ve realized that I can’t will this new reality away. It’s not really summer, it wasn’t spring, it apparently won’t be fall, or even the winter we have always known.

For now, it’s simply pandemic season.

It sounds dramatic, but it’s true. You see, everything that makes those other seasons distinct and memorable is linked to the places we GO, and the things we DO, and the people we SEE. As the pandemic season is gobbling up our seasons (including the possibility of football season, I can’t even go there yet), there isn’t much going, or doing, or seeing. Pandemic season has its own dimensions, rhythms and rules.

With a valiant effort, I pushed this unwelcome season away for a few weeks. We all did in our attempt to convince ourselves that “hey kids, it’s summertime!” But it’s still pandemic season. Make no mistake. It is very much here and it demands our attention, no matter what we believe about its threat.

When I really let this settle in my heart, it hurts. I miss family. I miss friends. I miss the comfort of community that I clearly took for granted. Yes, we still see each other in short bits and spurts – on screens, behind masks, elbow to elbow, through windows, six feet away – but these are far from the deeper connections we crave.

Never before have I truly appreciated the value of presence, of humanity in the flesh, of hugs without hesitation.

It’s why we’ll never have a cyborg family that can serve as a substitute for the real thing. My apologies to those working in Artificial Intelligence, but you have much more work to do.

Last night, I was absorbed in a pity party for one. I didn’t have any grand 4th of July plans. Most events were cancelled or scaled down significantly. At our house, we were a bit weary, so we stayed in. I soon wandered outside, drawn to the sounds of fireworks that began exploding right after dark. Honestly, it sounded like Baghdad. I was curious, and maybe a little unsettled considering the state of the world.

It’s our first summer living in this house, which appears to be the epicenter of all fireworks in the state of Tennessee. From every direction, we had a spectacular show. I was running around outside like a kid, trying to find the best place to watch. My husband teased me, “Um, haven’t you seen fireworks before?” Together we sat under a brilliant sky and laughed at the competition among the neighbors. I heard a baby cry, and cheering, and dogs barking, and crickets. In the dark, it felt for a moment that summer was back in its rightful place. Briefly, it was if the coronavirus and the unrest in our country had been a terrible dream.

IMG_1446

View from our front porch of the free fireworks show we enjoyed on this memorable, but very different 4th of July. Thanks neighbors, whoever you are!

But even with reality looming in the back of my mind, I was thankful for those loud, colorful bursts in a way that I’ve never been before. I was thankful for the lightning bugs with their tiny golden sparks that accompanied the show. And then, God lit up the sky with flashes of pink and blue lightning for the finale!  

The sights and sounds were a symphony of peace that my soul needed.

And then I cried, of course, but I believe that tears are a built-in release valve. Release is what we need! Yes, we’ve lost much, but we haven’t lost it all.

There is a great Protector who is holding you and your place in your story as you wait patiently for the page to turn. Don’t give into the temptation to skip over this chapter, to withdraw and become numb. Or worse, to become angry. It’s not easy, but it’s important that we feel our way through this discomfort and come through stronger and wiser on the other side.

Because feeling is living!

Be an encourager for others and allow them to be an encourager for you. Feel with people and be with people in whatever way you can. It’s always the right season for loving one another.

Facetune_05-07-2020-20-05-26FINAL

If nothing else will cure you from the pandemic blues, this ridiculous photo shoot might do the job. There was a lot of laughing (at myself) under that mask and probably some from my neighbors. My sons were horrified and were not sure if they should have called for help.

 

A tale of love and loss and books

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Alan Levine/Flickr, npr.org

Yesterday was Father’s Day and although I haven’t seen my Dad since February thanks to the threat of COVID-19, I spent some time talking with him. I spent some time thinking about him.

There’s an entire book (or two) in me featuring him as the main character, but that’s writing for another day. Today I’m thinking about my Dad and the gift of reading.

Around 18 years ago when I was in graduate school, I casually mentioned a book to him that was an assigned reading called Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig. It’s the story of a man and his son who travel across the country on a motorcycle. It’s an examination of life and how we live it, and according to a review on Amazon, it’s “one of the most important and influential books written in the past half-century.”

My Dad is a retired electrical engineer who has always enjoyed tinkering with things. Naturally, I thought he might enjoy a conversation about the book. I even suggested that he read it, even though most of his reading consisted of the newspaper and Reader’s Digest.

Nevertheless, he read it. In fact, he devoured it. Then he couldn’t stop talking about it and he was hungry for more. At that moment, at the age of 63, my Dad became a book lover!

My Mom had instilled this same love in me that she and I shared, but now Dad was part of “the club.” She had to make room on her bookshelves for his growing collection. To date, this admittedly methodical reader has read more than 100 books and counting! He mostly reads non-fiction, and says that the more challenging it is to read, the more he likes it. He even keeps a reading journal.

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Dad and one of his many books that explore the big ideas in life – life, death, God and man.

Reflecting on this special awakening in our shared history brought me to reflect on my own relationship with books. Over the last decade or so, I have felt like an imposter. To be clear, I LOVE books! I love to smell books, touch books, and yes, BUY books. I have boxes of them that my groaning husband has moved from dorms, and apartments, and offices, and too many houses to count. Besides the fact that they are ridiculously heavy, his groaning comes from asking me the same, tired question – “Are you really ever going to read all of these?”

Well YES, obviously! As if!

But then I’ve packed and unpacked those same books, over and over, many with bindings still untouched. I’ve had to accept that I may never read them all because I’m hardly reading at all. Somewhere between becoming a mother and becoming an almost empty nester, I’ve lost my devotion to reading that was once an unyielding passion.

Yes, I’ve continued to sprinkle reading throughout the years of ballgames (so many ballgames), deadlines, church commitments, family commitments, career pursuits, and just the everyday demands of adulting. And I’ve enjoyed many memorable books over the years. But if I’m honest with myself, I’ve consumed far more stories on my Netflix watchlist than from my must read list. 

Over the weeks of quarantine, something stirred within me to start intentional reading and writing again. I suppose it’s because life slowed down long enough for me to live in the discomfort of that longing. I could finally define that missing piece of me that has been vying for my attention for years. I rediscovered a connection to story that yes, can be enjoyed on the screen, but is often much more personal and transformative on the page.

And so began the process of dusting off the books.

With bookstores and libraries closed, I used my mailbox as a book trading hub with book loving friends. For months now, I’ve been reading fiction, non-fiction, and personal and spiritual journeys. I’ve found blogs that challenge and engage me. I’ve resurrected this blog and pledged to keep writing. The words don’t always flow easily, but they come easier each time I open the vault. It’s like I’ve reunited with an old friend who was patiently waiting for me to return.

I guess you could say I’ve been reunited with words.

I’m retraining myself to favor paragraphs and punctuation over the glowing, bubbling screen. Occasionally the two intersect, and when they do, it can still be an inspiring and magical place.

books

A stack of some of my quarantine reads.

Today, I am simply thankful that I found and rescued that weird little reading girl who took up residence in her bedroom closet with her books. I am thankful for those books. I am thankful for writers. And I am thankful for readers – readers like my Dad.

The novice who became the expert.

The inspired who became my muse.

Thanks Dad. I hope the stories never end.

Dad’s Top Ten Reading List (so far…)
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance – Robert M. Pirsig
The Tracker – Tom Brown, Jr.
The Day the Universe Changed – James Burke
Lateral Thinking: Creativity Step by Step – Edward de Bono
Beachheads: Alabama to Anzio, 45th Division – Charles M. Kirkpatrick
Unbroken – Laura Hillenbrand
Four Religions of Asia – Herbert Stroup
God Against the Gods – Jonathon Kirsch
Escape: A Memoir – Carolyn Jessop
Think Like a Fish – Tom Mann & Tom Carter

Blogs that fellow Bibliophiles might enjoy:
Reader Witch

The Bloggess
A Life in Books
Leanne W. Smith – A treasured friend and talented author
Gathering Around BooksAnother talented friend with so much to offer

BUY books and support writers and the wonderful world where new words can take us!

BUY books from your local and independent bookstores!
Find a bookstore near you

 

meanddad

Me and my Dad looking for adventure somewhere. 

 

Embrace the sun this summer

Hilton Head Island, SC, Summer 2020

Is it plagiarism and lazy if you steal your own blog article that was a guest post on someone else’s blog from two summers ago? I hope not. I’m on summer vacation and this post seems especially nostalgic and appropriate for right now. Although I’ve given it a 2020 update, the sentiments are the same.
Thanks to my precious, longtime friend, Betsy Pendergrass, who invited me to write on her blog and reminded me that I need to make words more often. Betsy has an amazing website, a podcast, inspiring products and a wonderful community to join – check her out at Gathering Around

Summer. 

The word is packed with so much potential! The idea of summer always holds the possibility for unforgettable moments. When I think about the summer memories I cherish, they range from the mundane to the spectacular.

Just this morning, I’m sitting here on a summer vacation in Hilton Head, South Carolina with my husband and two sons. We’re vacationing in the time of the coronavirus. The limitations of that make me especially grateful that last summer, we took an epic two-week trip out West when it was possible to travel with no restrictions.

Living in the moment  – especially now – is more important than ever. 

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The Grand Canyon, North Rim (Summer 2019) and The Grand Canyon, South Rim (Summer 1985)

Over the years we’ve spent together as a family unit of four, I realize I’ve been borderline obsessed with making every summer special. I inherited this charge from my parents, who took me and my brother on a variety of memorable trips without ever getting on a plane.

I recall a cross-country trip in the 1980’s when my family left Alabama in a large yellow Buick bearing a ROLL TIDE bumper sticker and a handmade California or Bust sign in the window.  Clearly we weren’t trying to blend in on our journey West. On this trip, I somehow became the only witness to a shooting in South Central L.A. We were lost. There was no GPS. There were no cell phones. These were simpler times. Thankfully God had plans to keep me around to create equally terrifying and terrific memories for another generation. 

Even with the way technology has changed the way we travel today, my family has enjoyed and endured many similar adventures. We’ve packed a lot into the 20 years since my oldest was born. We’ve done the tourist traps at the beach and the mountains, we’ve been to a Yankees game, we’ve eaten Chicago deep-dish pizza, we’ve done the theme parks, and we’ve sailed on a Caribbean cruise. We’ve overspent and perhaps overcompensated for who knows what, but I still wouldn’t change a thing. 

Embrace the Sun
New York City, Summer 2011

As awesome and photo-worthy as those memories are, I’ve found that some of the sweetest memories have been much simpler, closer to home, and cheaper. When I was blessed to be a work-at-home mom and the boys were little, our summer days were magic. After they slept late, we would eat Cream of Wheat for breakfast, fill up the baby pool, and read stories at night before bedtime. We rode bikes, went to story time at the library, and slathered hydrocortisone on mosquito bites.

It wasn’t fancy, but it was good.

Years later, summers started filling up with sports and activities, but I still purposed to capture something meaningful. We would go swimming with friends, enjoy longer visits with their grandparents, and stay up late every night to watch movies and make popcorn.

As the years raced by and the boys naturally started gravitating toward more time with friends and their teenage interests (PS4 and working out — need I say more?), I’ve found myself sometimes feeling lost. Where do I really fit in anymore? In a true “Hail Mary” attempt to keep our evolving relationships intact, we bought a small, used camper several years ago. It was my desperate effort to make the most of what was left of our dwindling summer family time.

As possibly the least outdoorsy family to go camping EVER, we went for it and never looked back. Fast forward and I’m proud to say we’ve enjoyed several camping trips together. They were not without challenges such as getting locked outside the camper, toilet problems, rainy campsites, no heat, an incessant smoke alarm, and grumpy hiking treks. I also should mention that my family did not even fit comfortably in this camper that barely slept four (see update in photo below). To call us happy campers all the time would have been a stretch.

But regardless of how imperfect our summer memories may be, they are OURS and ours alone. For me, summer is perhaps the most defining part of childhood. It’s a condensed version of the highs and lows that define every family dynamic and it’s deeply personal. The point of summer isn’t to make it Instagram worthy or spend the most money, it’s just to make it uniquely YOURS and embrace every second.

Make precious family memories while you can in this brief ray of sun. It only shines for a season, but its warmth will stay with you forever.

The camper that was. In my normal spontaneous manner, I bought this camper before doing even five minutes of research. It is a “low profile” camper, which means the ceilings are lower for garage storage. With the exception of me and my youngest before he grew a foot and a half, we are not low profile people. We have since sold the camper since my 6 foot+ husband and boys have zero head space inside. I am looking forward to another camper with more vertical space in our future!

Are you over it yet?

hitawall

Actual photo of me hitting a wall and my hair in its current quarantine natural state. This has to end soon.

This week, we hit a wall. Did you feel it?

I think it’s safe to say that any novelty related to our country’s pandemic lockdown has officially worn off. Toilet paper jokes are no longer funny. Our children are starting to resemble the children from The Lord of the Flies. We’ve made everything we know how to cook, and then we’ve made it again. Our home gyms are not getting the job done. We’re becoming a disconnected society all while scrambling to fight for a Wi-Fi connection in our neighborhoods.

We’ve reached a boiling point, and we’re wearing on the nerves of our household, and let’s be honest, ourselves.

It’s time… or is it? To roll the dice and reopen the world? Just a little?

Protesters who were once fighting for other causes are spilling out into the streets. The team spirit we enjoyed with memes and hashtags just a week ago seems a little less spirited this week. The Disney Family Singalong?? Yeah…even that felt too late and a little out of touch, even for my Disney-loving self. 

The replaying of the same routine, day after day after day, has finally pushed us all to ask ourselves – how much longer can we bear this burden?

I’m not a research scientist or a world leader, so thankfully the tough decisions won’t rest with me, or you. The consequences of these choices will prove to be serious in one way or another, to one group or another. Who plays God and decides who is the least of these? Again, I’m glad it’s not me.

While we all sit idly by, waiting and wondering, let’s cling to the semblance of unity we enjoyed over the last several weeks. And let’s not forget it. Resist the temptation to choose sides and brandish a bullhorn. Opinions are fine. It’s America after all. But regardless of where you stand on these serious issues, be kind, don’t judge, and show some grace. It may seem like we’re all in the same place, experiencing this crisis in the same way, but we’re not.

We can only defeat the virus if we focus on it as one very real, common enemy together. We must give it our best fight as ONE.

Until the day that we celebrate that victory together, stay safe and stay nice America!

bojanglessmall

Bojangles, my obese cat, who now has his own Instagram page thanks to my boredom during the quarantine. Yes, it’s come to this – Follow him at @mrbojangles21!