2020 is a heavy year. To think back to January when things started out quite optimistically with talk of 2020 vision and this truly being our year. Wow, things have changed.

I love New Years Eve. It’s one of my favorite holidays. There’s something cleansing about starting a new calendar year. I know it’s just another day and things don’t really change unless you let them, but still… it’s always been one of my favorite holidays. Something about counting down to midnight, the abundance of hope, and joy. And this year we rang in the new year with some very dear friends – the kids all played (and stayed up until midnight!) with their friends as well. What I wouldn’t give to go back to that time.

This week has been extra heavy for me, and it’s only Wednesday. I understand my privilege that I can sit here and type up a blog article about how I’m “suffering” while people are literally dying. I get it, and I’m not trying to compare. I’m just writing my feelings. So, bear with me as I try to eloquently express how I feel going on very little sleep the past two nights.

Sydney is sick. Again. Fever and just generally feeling yucky. I don’t do well when my kids are sick. It gives me crazy terrible anxiety, and especially now in the midst of a pandemic. This, also, isn’t new news to me or anyone really, but it’s shaping my thoughts. So, she’s sick, and I’m doing my best to take care of her and keep it all together. We’ve been staying home, besides Nick who has to go to work. But he’s been as safe as he can be. Which brings me to the next stress – Nick has been mandated to work every day this week. No days off, 14 hour shifts. He’s literally only been working and sleeping. Thankfully he was off Saturday night when the worst of the riots were happening, but, while him going to work is always a risk, him going to work with a target on his back is an even bigger one.

Life is sacred. All life. So, of course, I’m outraged by the murder of George Floyd. It was murder. It was excessive and unnecessary use of force, and it should be condemned. Racism has no place in our world. I support good police officers, but I do not and never will support murder. (Seems kind of weird to have to write that, but apparently that’s the world we’re living in.)

But, I just don’t know what to say because my husband is a police officer. He’s good. He’s a good man and a good cop. But now threats are made to his life because of the actions of some? He doesn’t condone murder either. And he also wants to always come home to his family.

He’s been mandated to work every day this week. 14 hour shifts which means he’s literally only working and sleeping everyday. We were supposed to have been on vacation this week. Obviously that’s not happening because of Covid-19, but it just makes this week that much heavier. Vacation cancelled. Single momming with a sick 3 year old. No me time. No full family time. Stress eating. Forget my house, that’s just a disaster I can’t even begin to think about. And just trying to hold it together as I fill my body with unhealthy amounts of caffeine and get the kids another snack and wonder if Sydney should take a nap or stay up. And trying to figure out the balance between screen time and play time and outside time – Sydney is still sick – and what she should be eating and is she drinking enough and alternating doses of Tylenol and Ibuprofen and writing down when and what she can have next. And making sure Vinny feels loved and is safe and finding productive ways to get his energy out, while still making sure Sydney rests. Worrying about my husband at work, staying up (probably) too late each night just to get a few hours of precious “me time” when I should just go to bed with the kids because I know I’ll be waking up in the middle of the night several times to get drinks and medicine and cleaning up messes. And feeling terrible when I lose my patience and wanting to cry and wanting to scream and wanting to run and wanting to hide and wanting to just keep the kids protected from literally everything that’s happening.

But I swallow it…for them. And I keep going. And I work out. And I pray. And I stay in the boat. And I know, in the grand scheme of things, it’s just a drop in the bucket. This too shall pass. Sydney will get better, and Nick will have days off, and maybe the world will change for the better too.

I have no room to complain. People are dying. Riots are happening. We’re still in the middle of a pandemic. (PSA for whoever needs to hear this – just because things are opening up, doesn’t mean coronavirus is gone or the risk of contracting coronavirus is gone! Stop acting like it is!) I know. But it felt good to get it out. It’s fine. I’m fine. Vinny is great. Sydney will be fine.

It’s just… heavy.

And, if in my very privileged life, I feel this way, imagine how the rest of the world must be feeling.