My toddler has stopped asking to go to the playground. She’s stopped asking when she will go back to real school, when she’ll see her friends.  When we’ll go to the grocery store, to Nana’s house, out for pizza and ice cream.  

She also doesn’t ask me anymore if I am going to tuck her to bed.  She doesn’t ask where my “nighttime eyes” are. This is what she calls it when I’m wearing mascara. Which means that mom + dad are going out.  This is our normal.  She just knows that we’re not going anywhere.  That I will be tucking her into bed every night.  And spending the whole day with her.

I’m breastfeeding Aster. She eats 4x a day. Before The Stay Home I was pumping at least 2x a day and one of the many people in my village would give her a bottle. Because when Aster needs to eat Sienna also needs dropped off or picked up from school or I have a meeting or an appointment or I need to eat and take a shower. Or we’re going out to dinner. Now I rarely pump or give Aster a bottle.  I nurse her because I’m home. And life is not tugging at me from all directions.  This is a massive relief and has eliminated a lot of stress. Breastfeeding and doing normal life is hard. Breastfeeding and doing quarantine life is stilI hard. But I am thankful The Stay Home has given me this cocoon of time with my baby. These are beautiful things. 

Our days are simple, repetitive and predictable.  They are (mostly) calm and laid back.  There is no rushing or deciding. Things have slowed way down and options are off the table.  I’m not labeling this time good or bad. It just is. Most days I am welcoming it.  I want to learn from it and use it.  Let it show me things.  On a micro level every day I tell myself my #1 job is to keep myself and my family healthy.  Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally, too.  In order to do that, I’ve had some of my village return to our home.  It is helping us all immensely.  I understand it is opening up our circle, but it is a calculated risk we are willing to take.   I was fraying around the edges, big time.  How could I not.  How could we all not.  

Today, my daily devotional read:

Welcome problems as perspective-lifters.  My children tend to sleepwalk through their days until they bump into an obstacle that stymies them.  If you encounter a problem with no immediate solution, your response to that solution will take you either up or down.  You can lash out at the difficulty, resenting it and feeling sorry for yourself.  This will take you down into a pit of self-pity.  Alternatively, the problem can be a ladder, enabling you to climb up and see your life from My perspective.  Viewed from above, the obstacle that frustrated you is only a light and momentary trouble.  Once your perspective has been heightened, you can look away from the problem altogether.  Turn toward Me, and see the Light of My Presence shining upon you.  

I love that phrase, perspective-lifter.  

Zoom out. Look at it all differently.  These words are my compass.  

We weren’t given an option in all of this.  As a global community, this is what we had to do.  But I will be able to choose what I add back on my plate as the world continues to morph and evolve into whatever our new normal will be.  

I return to my daughter.   At almost 5 years old, she doesn’t yearn for “what was” or talk about what things are going to be like when.  She is just living her best life, right now.  Not waiting, waiting, waiting until things go back to normal.  Lots of teachers showing up in my life.  And I know they have always been there, but I haven’t exactly slowed down enough to really hear them. To listen and then act. To apply it to my life.  The first several weeks I was deer in headlights.  Then mad, sad, irritated, resistant.  Now I’m in the sweet spot of receptivity.  Allowing.  Now I’m in a place where I can actually hear my teachers and act from a place of Knowing without wanting to kick and scream and fight my way through this.  Here’s what keeps coming up for me.

Family. Slower. Less. Presence over perfection. Deep relationships and connection. Intentional.

Simple, but not easy.