What has been the highlight of our garden this year? The mounds of tomatoes? The scrumptious green beans? The peas? The zucchini? The peppers? The carrots? The few tiny strawberries? The broccoli? The ridiculous army of beets?
I find joy in planning trips and going on vacation. I find joy in big moments and fun activities. I find joy in family get-togethers and social gatherings. I find joy in week-end get-aways and tickets to the theater. I find joy in making plans and fun things on the calendar. In this year of COVID, it is easy to feel like this virus is stealing my joy. But each time that happens, I look to my kids who have a knack for finding joy in the little things.
They don't need the big things. They find joy in catching ladybugs and crickets. In eating dessert before dinner. In family movie night. In new books from the library. In leaf piles to jump in. In eating produce from the garden. In campfires and s'mores. In garage sale treasures. In squirt guns and sprinklers. In staying up past bedtime. In writing and creating. In listening to their favorite songs. In play time with cousins. In family games. In big boxes. In made-up games. In cinnamon rolls for breakfast.
My kids find so much joy in the everyday. COVID can't steal my joy. There is joy in my life. I don't need the big things. I just need to better appreciate all the little things.
Saturday was a beautiful day! Mid-morning, as Zach and I started discussing what to do with our day as a family, we made some plans to surprise the kids with a day of outdoor fun. To avoid unwanted opinions and any grumbling that might accompany a plan that was not theirs, we titled our day 'Epic Family Day' and kept each activity a surprise until we got to where we were going. We ended up making a few decisions on the fly, but had a great, fun, full, surprise filled, epic family day.
The other day Staley was talking about a book she was almost finished reading. We were teasing her, asking if once she had finished that book if she would just be done reading forever. She responded, "I'll never be done reading until I die. Actually, I'll keep reading after I die because I bet in heaven there will just be a never ending book that is always exciting."
Nineteen years ago, two young kids got married. They had dated. They loved one another, respected one another, had fun together, were best friends. They knew they wanted to spend their lives together, but there was so much they didn't know.
They didn't know what it would be like to live together, to share a home and the responsibilities that come with it.
They didn't know what it would be like to navigate jobs and school and house projects and adult responsibilities together.
They didn't know if their views on church, on travel destinations, on budgets, on child rearing, on home projects, on division of household responsibilities, on any number of other things would change over time or continue to align.
They didn't know how it would look to support each other through sickness, through surgeries, through job changes, through stress, through anxiety, through infertility.
They didn't know what to expect when it came to adding a child into their home...or two...or three.
They didn't know how they would handle crying babies and tantrumming toddlers and tattling siblings and endless needs and excessive noise.
They didn't know if their evolving responsibilities, evolving interests, evolving priorities would make them drift apart over the years.
They didn't know how they would tackle worldwide pandemics and months of quarantine.
Nineteen years ago, there was no way to predict what life would throw their way. They started their life together with a foundation of love, respect, friendship, and fun. And that foundation has only served as the base on which they've built a beautiful life. They have grown together through new responsibilities, supported each other through life changes, compromised and communicated through differing opinions, cared for each other in the midst of sickness and grief, partnered in raising their children, evolved together as they've grown as individuals and a couple, and realized how much they still enjoy just being together...even for months on end.
Nineteen years ago, those two young kids entered into a life together, not knowing exactly what that life would look like. There was so much that they didn't know. They had no way of knowing just how loud and chaotic and crazy and imperfectly beautiful their life would be.
In the year of COVID, what is the best way to celebrate (almost) 19 years of marriage?
With the smaller social circle, the shorter school days, and the limited activities we are participating in, our days open up for other activities. The best way to fight this COVID fatigue is to find activities that bring us joy. We still do LOTS of reading and play family games and generally have a family movie night every week-end. We have had some outdoor play dates with friends and have spent time with cousins and have gone to a few cross country meets. We have enjoyed family bike rides and family walks. We have done some fun school projects and lots of writing and crafting. Staley and Adelie are both working on writing chapter books, while all 3 kids have been busy making perler bead creations. We have been finding ways to fill our days and enjoy this slower-paced season of life.
Back in March, the world shut down. Although there was so much uncertainty during that time, there was a sense of optimism. Communities were banding together. Families were spending more time together. Front line service employees were being celebrated. People were learning new hobbies, completing house projects, connecting in new ways, trying new things. In the midst of the unknown, there was hope.
Six months later, I am just tired. Where communities were once banding together, there is now division at every turn. Instead of hearts and bear hunts and feel good news channels, there are riots and looting and violence. There are passionate opposing viewpoints on everything from the reality of the virus to masks to politics to schools re-opening to social justice to vaccines to professional sports. I am tired of hearing about the division. I am tired of all the heaviness in the country...with sickness...with division...with economic struggles...with collapsing industries. I am tired of trying to make decisions, knowing that there is no "right" decision during this time. I am tired of questioning the decisions we make and thinking about the decisions we still have to make and wondering about the implications of the decisions we are making on our kids and our family. I am tired of trying to explain to my kids why we are making the decisions we are making when I don't have certainty about them. I am tired of not going places. I am tired of limiting our social circle. I am tired of life not being normal and not knowing when or if it ever will be. I am just tired.
In the midst of my tired, however, I am learning from my kids. Learning about resiliency. Learning about joy in the midst of sorrow. Learning about adaptability. Learning about living the life that we are given. They wear their masks without a second thought. Handwashing and sanitizing are second nature. They play together day after day without complaining. They love our open week-ends. They find new projects to keep them busy. They don't complain about things we are not doing. They don't dwell on activities that were cancelled or things that they have missed. The things that we filled our time with...activities and trips and outings and gatherings and restaurants and parties...are obviously dispensable. My kids have embraced our new lifestyle without these things and adapted to this slower-paced, family-centered, home-based life we are now living. Although I am experiencing fatigue during this current season, my kids continue to show me that there is joy to be found in every season.
