It’s 630 am… I am awake, another day in the pandemic. The feeling of anxiety is already there. Usually, I’d want to let it simmer, so I can feel worse, nothing better than my own pity party. But, I can’t because I didn’t wake up from an alarm clock, or because I have to be anywhere in particular. It’s the “mommy” sounds in my ear that are loud and clear. They are saying “Wake da f up!”
Yes, the pandemic is hard– but as a working mom whose husband happens to be on COVID19 lockdown on the other side of the world, and who also has a two-year-old that is basically The Mariah Carey diva of toddlers, it’s A LOT harder.
While most are taking this time to look within, meditate and come out a little bit stronger, (kudos to you!) I am, just trying to make it through the day without a tantrum, from either my toddler or myself. All jokes aside, It’s been a long, tough journey.
The balance I’ve had to uphold throughout this has been my life’s greatest accomplishment. Let me walk you through a day in my life. I wake up before the sun itself. Jude (my diva) is up and already asking for her morning smoothie, see where the diva thing applies? Anyways … I make her a smoothie and a coffee for myself, I’m going to need it. Finally after feeling the caffeine kick in, t’s time for a morning workout— that Jude also wants to be a part of. So we both “exceesive” as she calls it. And even though she crowds every move I make and disrupts every squat, I miraculously finish. Feeling great. Ready for some me-time. Welp. Except now it’s time for Jude’s morning walk. We walk to the Hialeah canal, see some ducks, dirty water and what is leftover from yesterday’s Santeria ritual. That takes about 40 minutes and I am beat.
I’ve lived what feels like an entire life. And it’s only 10 am.
Work begins. Do you know what it’s like having to attend a meeting on Zoom with a two-year-old around? It’s a sh*t show. I am either muted because 1. Frozen is on. 2. Jude is talking and answering every comment made at the meeting. Or my personal favorite 3. there is a tantrum happening in the background.
I somehow manage to get through, but now try working. I get feet on face, feet on keyboard, feet on feet.
It basically goes as follows until her nap, which is the equivalent of a happy hour to moms everywhere. We wait for it, plan around it, move all our “me-time” things inside that 2-hour slot. And when it happens, it’s glorious.
Don’t get me wrong, being a parent is great. And these moments although somewhat frustrating at times, are the things that keep me going through this pandemic. We are partners in this. This time has been the most we’ve shared together in a long time. We take walks, we paint, we sing and dance. She even watches me pee. It’s great. She’s my person and together we are kicking ass.