Pretty Much Normal

I lay in bed and the tears just wouldn't stop seeping out of my eyes. I could easily have burst into full out sobs, but how silly would that have been? Every sentimental bone in my body ached, as I went over every little detail I was nervous worried about. Mentally, I counted up the months... seventeen of them. Seventeen months I'd been with my four youngest children almost every single day. Seventeen months we'd done everything together -- worked, played, argued, learned, fought, talked, laughed, cried. Seventeen months, we'd kind of been each other's everything. Tomorrow, they would go back to school.

Everyone has had their version of  'crazy' from 2020 and it's aftermath; this is mine. 

Seventeen months ago, school closed. I went from five days a week at home alone, to never being home alone, plus homeschooling and foster care. Twelve months ago, we chose to homeschool, and embarked on an adventure I never, ever wanted. Now, I cried, because the adventure was ending.

I don't know if I'll ever fully understand what these past seventeen months have been about. I feel like a completely different person than I did that day school closed so many months ago; a person I'm not really sure I know or recognize. It feels like our family has been in this sort of incubation period, where we've needed to learn to dig deeper, lean in closer and grow together, in a unique and different way. Now, it's time to turn that loose, and sort of reintegrate back into the real world. It's kind of scary for all of us.

That all sounds overly dramatic and a bit ridiculous and it probably is. This morning, I sent the four scholars off to school and practically danced around the empty house shouting hallelujah! Two days from now, I'll probably be crying into my pillow again. Maybe, after all, I'm simply losing my mind?

I feel like I have a lot of soul sorting to do in these next quiet days at home. I have just as many conflicting feelings about that, as the sad tears and happy dancing I just described above. 

Yesterday, I cried over the first day of school and Facebook memories from ten years ago.

Ten years ago: 

First day of school in Ohio

Re-enactment picture

before Isaac left for work

I went to town and bought groceries and had to call my husband to instruct me on what to do for my overheated van.

I picked up school children and discovered my youngest had thrown up at school twice on the first day.

I packed up clothes for my husband, who left on a work related fishing adventure.

I doled out purple medicine and emergenC to multiple children coming down with colds and sore throats.

I went to bed, and hoped for the best.

Maybe, after all, life is overly dramatic and a bit ridiculous. 

Today, I'll clean my dirty floors and sew the back to school dress that didn't get finished and hang out the never ending laundry... and marvel at the silence. Tomorrow, we'll take the emotions and drama that the day brings and go from there. It's pretty much all we can do, and it might even be pretty much normal.