A Little Bit Broken

When I was in the shower yesterday morning I thought, what day is it? I honestly had to think for a full five minutes before I figured out what day it was.  There was no reference point.  We are always home.  There are no weekends, there are no trips, no one goes to work, there isn't a shopping day . . . it's all a blur.  I honestly can't tell when one day ends and another begins.

I had to sit down and take deep breaths when I tried to figure out the date.  I had no idea . . . somewhere in April?  I think?

Some days we have breakfast at 8am, others it's at 10:30am.  Lunch?  Totally random if it even happens.  Dinner is anywhere between 4:30pm and 8:30pm and it varies between gourmet five dish meals and a hotdog where the bun is negotiable.  

And the exhaustion . . . I wake up ready to go right back to bed.  And then some nights, I don't sleep at all.  One never knows which will happen.  But all day every day I feel like I weigh at least nine thousand pounds.  Everything is just so hard and why . . . bother?

I have great ideas of what I'm going to accomplish during the day, but somehow I forget every single one.  I have projects, little cleaning projects that I start but just end up sitting on the floor staring at the closet to be cleaned out or books to be organized.  Five minutes later, I end up on the couch spread eagle, staring at the fan.   

I don't want to talk on the phone or answer texts.  There is no news to tell anyone.  Everything is the same EVERY SINGLE DAY.  And if there is news, it's STILL horrible.  It makes the kids cry (all of life is cancelled kids for the next three months); graduations of every grade are gone, parties, celebrations, gatherings, and dating . . . vanished.   Summer is looking like it's not going to happen either.  

And we are the lucky one.  

I feel guilty about how lucky I am and how bad off so many other people all over the world are.  

And helpless to help anyone.  

The future does not exist, literally.  

I feel broken.

I am broken.  I am this shell of myself.  A grown out, gray is showing, unkept, stretchy pants wearing, carb loading, completely spacey, fractured human.

My kids favorite movie for years was Lilo and Stitch.  Everything in the movie is broken.  No one is functioning right and just trying to make the most of an impossible situation.  My favorite part of the  movie is the end, where Stitch claims Lilo as his family:

I woke up this morning thinking of this scene.  

I feel little.  I feel broken.  But I am still good.  Yeah, I am surprisingly still good.

That's the crazy part of all of this.  Even with all the ick, the complete lack of motivation, the hours and days and weeks that literally blend together and the strange sleeping patters, I am still good.

Today we had a Zoom meeting with fourteen of my thirteen to fifteen year old girls teach at church.  It was a chaotic mess of ten conversations happening at once.  I loved it.  We ended with a massive dance party which really was me dancing like crazy and all the girls watching.

Broken.  Only a broken person would dance and leap around the room for a Zoom full of girls.  Broken people can make people laugh (and maybe cringe).

There is no pride left.  I call Henry six times a day to see Hero even if it's for five minutes. Broken gets to talk to her son and grand baby for hours.

And I look hideous . . . she still loves me.

For reals . . . she fixes my broken.

I go mental if I don't get outside, so I text my friends like ten times a day . . . can you go for a walk?  Can you walk now?  NOW?

And they say yes . . . pretty much every time.

They put my pieces back together

I think we are being careful, but honestly, I'm broken so I don't even care.  And sometimes I forget and I hug them and I feel like I've just won the lottery.

When there is the smallest reason to drop off something to cousins and sisters, we leap at it, and cry a little when we see them.  How did I forget how gorgeous they all are?  The kids talked with their cousins through the windows and my little nephew kept running towards us trying to touch us as we ran away and my SIL cried out.  Best time ever!  Then a handstand competition twelve feet apart with grandparents sixteen feet away cheering on.

Literally, best thing that happened to us this month.

I used to have ideas of how I liked everything to be.  I was picky and opinionated.  

Now? Please, I say, just set the table or make the rolls or salad.  YOU GO and I sit back.  

And the results?  Amazing.  Being broken and without opinions . . . it's opened this whole world of my children's creativity and the results?  

Gorgeous.  

And best of all . . . Delicious!

Seriously . . . I should have broken a long time ago.

I am not above begging.  I used to get mad or frustrated, now I literally get on my knees and beg.  I've got nothing to loose.  

And my family has started walking with me again.

And they pretend not to be mad when my two mile walk always turns into a five mile hike.  Oops.

For my kiddos, I'll plead.  I found a friend who sews and she so sweetly offered to make masks (after five texts) for my babies.  So guess what they got for Easter?

I've been married almost twenty-five years.  We've had some fun ups and some crazy downs.  But this, this is a new experience all around. John sees me totally and completely broken and for the most part doesn't complain (though about once every two weeks he wondered if my jeans have corona virus and are in isolation and if I will EVER do my hair and did all my razors disappear?).  We have learned to give each other a lot of space.  Sometimes for days.  It's healthy.  I promise.  

I may have told him yesterday, I can't remember the last time I kissed you. 

We remedied that.  It was five seconds after I said that.

He loves a good challenge.  And a reminder.

And miracles of miracles, I'm finally finishing my book.  Well, finishing it again after ten years of writing it.  It used to scare me so much, but I have nothing, no pride, no agenda, no fear of judgement, anymore.  I just have time to remember how much I used to love this.  And what fun . . . I get to escape all the things I'm supposed to be doing and am not.  I get to control the whole world!  

Best Fun EVER!

Without pride and fear, you do brave things.  Like cutting John's and Finnegan's hair.  Both of them said, Hey, it's quarantine, no one is going to see us.  It will grow out. GO FOR IT!

And holy cow, darned if it didn't come out stinking good.

So yeah, life is really crazy hard and I'm am a broken shell of myself.  I do not know what day or time or week or date it is, but I am good.  

Yeah, I'm good.