It’s Been (Pause) Four Weeks

Tomorrow will end the boys’ fourth week without stepping foot inside their schools. They came home on Friday, March 13 with their trombones in tow. We expected three weeks. We still didn’t have a full understanding of what we were up against at that time.

They may or may not return after the current stay-at-home date of May 1. Today, Pennsylvania closed schools to in-person instruction for the rest of the school year. Logically, I know the same is likely to happen in Ohio.

Emotionally, I’m not ready to let go of the hope.


The past month has delivered the hardest days of work-life balance that I have ever experienced. I knew it would be hard. I had no clue.

To be fair, work-life balance is a misnomer in general. At best, it’s a lie. I mean, if Martha Stewart can’t achieve work-life balance, can anyone? Some days work gets more time. Some days family requires more attention. And right now, when the two are requiring the same amount of presence and productivity at the same exact time, something’s gotta give.

There’s no give and take here. There’s nothing left to give.

Factor in elder care and self-care, storms waking me up at all hours, and anxiety that won’t let me go back to sleep, and I’m at the end of my ability to function. This is an exhaustion I’ve never known.


We started a family journal this week in hopes of remembering odds and ends of this pandemic. So far, other than the fact that they mentioned that their “mom made them do this,” they don’t seem overtly negatively effected by my inability to be all and do all. They definitely have feelings about missing out on their school year. They miss school. They miss their friends. They’re missing the many great things planned between March and May.

But they don’t hate me. Just yet.

Parker is probably more attuned to the fact that my stress level is off the charts. He’ll wander in my office after a meeting, ask how it went, and ask if I need a hug.

The answer is always yes, even if the meeting went just fine. I never turn down a hug from my boys. Those hugs are currently salve to my soul.

Nick knows I’m stressed but delivers his care in the form of humor. Their individual personalities are shining right now as they each struggle with different things and find joy in separate ones as well. I’m thankful for the ways they make me look at things a bit differently than I would have otherwise. Learning how they feel through our family journal gives me more insight into this pandemic.


Our lives have been changed in the past month and will forever be marked by COVID-19. There are changes we have yet to experience, some good and some pretty awful. I do know that we’ll continue to work through it together.

I’m going to keep clinging to hope, not necessarily that things will return to the way they were before but that we might come through this experience with a broader understanding of who we are as individuals, as a family, and as members of society. There are so many lessons to learn right now. I just hope we learn the right ones.


Half a Month

Swimming Is Exhausting

I’ve spent half a month home with the boys. We’ve done a lot of things. It’s felt really great in a lot of ways.


It’s also felt challenging on a number of levels.

Truth: I’ve never simply stayed home with my sons. When I left the newsroom in 2006, I already had a contract lined up to work from home. In those nine years, I’ve worked steadily through pregnancy and bed rest, through breastfeeding and potty training, through vacations and baseball games, through preschool and the transition into elementary school.

Over the years, I found my groove. I taught myself how to shut the laptop at the end of my work day. I learned how to flex my time, how to work after the boys went to bed when things needed finished by morning. I also learned how to push myself just a bit too hard and end up with too much on my plate.

It makes sense then why I’ve felt challenges since leaving my job. I have a lot of questions about it, too.

What do I do with this free time? Why are we still late for baseball practices? Why aren’t we free on the non-rainy days so we can use our pool pass? Why are we still so busy? Why do I still feel overwhelmed by the boys? But where does clutter come from? Why are all the library books late? Do I really have to play Monopoly with them? Why am I so horrible at board games? When did they get to be better than me at video games? Why do their socks fit my feet? OMG, how much can they really eat? Why did we have to buy a house that allowed them each to have their own rooms if they only and always want to sleep in each others’ room? Can I serve spaghetti three nights in a row? Will they notice? Would they like that better? Why don’t they knock? Why are they so loud?* Why do they follow me? Why is it even worse when it’s silent and I can’t find them? And on and on.

One question leaves me questioning myself the most: Why do I still feel overwhelmed by the boys?

For nine years, I’ve assumed my frustration, lack of patience, and general feeling of overwhelm when it came to mothering these two boys came from my hectic schedule as a working mother. I knew that stay-at-home moms also felt these things, but I truly thought my own issues stemmed from how much I attempted to handle at once regarding the non-existent work-life balance.

It turns out that parenting is just this way.

Before the end of my last day of work which coincided with the boys’ first day of summer break, I found myself thinking, “And I’m taking a month off with you crazy kids because why?” I’ve been frustrated at various times since then, though I can see trends in where the frustration begins. The boys’ arguing, the rush to get somewhere combined with the summer slowness we are all craving, overtired whining, my anxiety, and a few other things all make me feel like I’m not doing this well. Like I’m not doing my month home with the boys “right.”

I’m a funny creature.

There is no “right” to this month off—though I would like to report I am mostly caught up with laundry on a daily basis. No, we haven’t made it to the pool as much as I originally hoped, but we’ve gone and enjoyed our time together, made friends, and had fun. I haven’t made fancy desserts or breakfasts, but I seem to manage feeding us on the regular. I haven’t made it to see all of my friends—and I hate that—but the boys have had a number of great adventures with their friends. I read an entire book, but we haven’t made it back to the library yet and everything is overdue. Again. Always. Plans I hoped for may have fallen through, but we’ve replaced those with other great plans. One kid is sick, the other will likely get sick, and I can imagine the two adults in this house ending up with fevers on our beach vacation.

But still.

Despite any imagined self-caused shortcomings so far this month, it’s been a great time. I’ve never had this much time with my boys to simply be. We sit on the porch at bedtime, eating Popsicles and watching the fireflies come out. We do what we want, when we want, because we can. While I try not to speak for my sons, I genuinely feel they’re enjoying this extra time with me.

While I know it won’t last forever, I know I will treasure this month through eternity—challenges and all.