I’d be lying if I said I didn’t spend most of the second half of 2020
cursing the pandemic,
feeling pissed about how it turned my life upside down,
and bring ungrateful for all the family time I was now being forced to have.
I would go to bed each night avowing to be a better
and e-learning helper the next day.
I would quietly declare my intent to practice mindfulness, self-care, positive self-talk, and grace only to wake up the next day,
suck at all of it,
forget the lessons of the day before
and then gripe, continuously, about my struggles and seemingly neverending lack of free time.
But something about today, the first Monday of January 2021, has got me feeling different.
And determined not to let Covid steal any more of my joy.
I’m confident these next few months will be just as stressful as the last few have been, but I’m even more sure that, this go-round, I’m going to get it more right.
I’m gonna remember what a blessing it is to
have my children at home while they are schooling and to get to watch them grow,
to have my husband working from home and a kiss from him only a room away,
and to have our health and our faith both pretty much still intact.
It sure is easy to feel frustrated when things are exactly how you pictured them, but it’s even easier to not, and that’s what I’m realizing.
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