There’s always this moment right before I write a soul crushingly honest post when I take a deep breath and remind myself I can do hard things. Like speak truth. Uncomfortable truth. The sort of truths we aren’t supposed to say out loud.
Like how my whole life’s been derailed.
I’m fighting the urge to put a disclaimer on this. You know, the one that goes Everyone’s struggling right now and plenty of people have it way worse than I do and I’m lucky to even have my family and I’d do anything for these kids. It’s that all-encompassing, selfless woman disclaimer we’re so used to stamping on things.
Now here’s the truth.
I never wanted to homeschool my kids. I was a great classroom teacher and I’m good at helping them with schoolwork, but I’ve always known that being together all day every day wouldn’t be an ideal learning environment for either one. Plus it wouldn’t be healthy for me. So you could say school in another location has been an important factor in our family dynamic.
I know all the right things to say here. It is what it is. We need to do our part to slow the spread. The world’s changed and we’ll have to rise to meet the challenge.
But knowing the right things to say hasn’t helped with this unsettling feeling of being off balance. The life I’d planned – loosely, yes, but there was still a general plan – exploded. I’ve been dropped head first into a life I didn’t choose and it’s…well, infuriating is a good word for it. My kids get frustrated by their limitations in this new world order and all I can think is I get it, this sucks, I HATE IT TOO.
Except adulting and responsibility and setting an example and making the hard calls. I’ll do this. I have to do this. But between you and me, this wasn’t part of the game plan.