None of this is new, and I’m certainly not alone in struggling, but I feel like it needs to be repeated. So much of the country (world?) has moved on. They’ve declared the pandemic over. Masks are gone, people are going to concerts and eating at restaurants and working in the office. Everything is supposed to magically go back to “normal.”
Except.
It’s not true if you’ve got small children.
Hello there!
What happened to last week? I remember celebrating Easter and birthdays and having a good time, and then it’s like I blacked out and here I am.
This is hard.
It’s also a gift, to have all this togetherness. To be here to witness new milestones and to be the one to comfort the tiny humans EVERY time they’re upset about something. To have all this extra time with my kitty who doesn’t have a whole lot of time left.
The other day I found myself wanting to get pregnant again. It wasn’t so much that I wanted a third kid, but I eventually realized that what I really wanted, was the parental leave. Having Tom get home late from work so many nights in a row makes me long for the days when he was here all day. Maternity leave would mean endless hours to do nothing but spend time with my family. The kids wouldn’t feel neglected (this was a dream remember?), and we’d also be able to get things done around the house.