Core Memories
On day 96 of the lockdown as I’m popping open the cork on a bottle of Rose (which is acceptable 12pm wine) I hear my son who is 10 years old at the time say under his breath “Oh no here we go again.”
He’s watching. Shit! I’m that mom!! I look up at him, put down the corkscrew, give him a hug and go to my room. I sit on my bed staring at the wall basically in a time out. I am an early childhood educator for God sake! I know kids learn from what we model! I just can’t believe I got here.
That one moment was the turning point. No longer can I just cope, numb, and silently freak out. I am the mama bear and my cubs are watching me, waiting to see how I handle this unpredictable, insane situation so they can follow my lead. I decided that night to make the switch.
We live just feet away from the bike path. Instead of reaching for the bottle, I started saying to my boys, “Grab your bikes - let’s go explore.”
Our daily bike rides twice a day became our favorite thing. We explored Burbank and all the beautiful and weird things…So many red and blue doors, 12 to be exact. We even got to the end of Burbank as we entered Toluca Lake and the boys felt like we were travelers crossing the border!
The wind on our faces, not talking, sore legs and sore butts. I never felt so connected, so alive, and so healthy in a time when people were sick, depressed, and dying.
I started to be ok with not having a job and truly embraced this time to really play WITH my kids all summer.
The only thing I was missing and craved so deeply was adult conversation at night when the kids went to bed. My mom friends were tired and complained they HAD to talk to their husbands. I wanted that. I wanted someone to talk about the crazy day while holding each other. Would I find that? Could that happen during this time when everything is closed and we don’t interact with anyone outside of our circle??? It can and it did. Although it didn’t last forever, it was exactly what I needed for that moment- for that season. The season of locked-down love.