Wednesday, March 3, 2021

A Pulled-In Kind of Year

 It’s been a year this week since things shut down.  March 4, 2020 was our last family meal out to celebrate the twins’ 20th birthday.

Actually, there is an awful lot that can happen and change in a year that often felt like a lot of nothing.

We graduated two kids from high school. We started, stopped, and changed course with educational plans more than a few times. One kid moved home, moved out, and then moved again. One stayed home under duress, schooled long-distance, and is now getting ready to move out into her own place. One started school, and then switched gears into something else entirely.

Everyone’s schooled and worked from home. Some of us went back. Some of us are still here.

We cancelled big trips, and cancelled concerts.  Sad face. We haven’t seen our extended family for ages. I miss my parents and sisters.

We housed a cherished adopted daughter for a couple months. We messily weathered the transition from parenting youngsters to parenting young adults.

I’m basically a walking psychologist. Better Help will call me any day.

We tried to guide through some very hard growing-up moments – the kinds of things that you don’t put on your Facebook page because your kids aren’t 5 anymore.

We thought Casey had COVID… my dad had surgery… then my sister DID get COVID.

My work life has completely changed. A workshop that would have made me cry a year ago now has me going, “Well, that’s not awful.”

We started the year with just our daughters. We ended it with our daughters, plus two serious boyfriends. At least one of them lives in the state.

After years of saying we should, we finally managed to establish a weekly date night. Even if it has to be done in 32* weather.

I’ve planned three separate 2-week trips.  If we can ever go places again, we are set. I pretend this will happen someday.

My friend group has more or less mortally injured itself.

I learned that I really really still like my husband.

We worried about people a lot. We were frustrated by people a lot.  By “we,” I probably mean “me.”

And tomorrow, we gather together for pizza and ice cream cake – in our dining room this year – for the twins’ 21st birthday.

Another year.