Just Who Do You Think You Are?

I wake, thinking “just who do you think you are?” I sit with sadness as the last bits of ice in my bedside water glass settle and whisper “Who anyway?” before remembering I don’t do this anymore. Or, at least, remembering that I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to feel unworthy. I’m as worthy as anybody else, and not just because I’m a mom. 

I close my eyes again and inhale the smell of sleep from my pillows. 

“Who anyway?” I say out loud. It’s a battle between self-doubt and self-affirmation. Wanna-be time travelers who hope to heal. Maybe that’s always the case. Figuring out how to live while living. 

Just Who Do You Think You Are?

Advice on talking to myself the way I hope my son talks to himself makes me consider my blessings. The feeling of not needing to be anywhere for a few minutes. Of waking up at all, when that’s never a guarantee because some of us have to rely on butterfly magic. 

That while everything is sad and scary and – perhaps the worst – so freaking unknown right now, we’re here, and there is love, and the flowers I planted on the porch grow. They do so more visibly than we do, but are a reminder that we’re growing, too. 

That we are here. And that’s a lot.

***

I sneezed this morning and thought “Is it here? Has COVID-19 hit this family and am I the first?” I tried to figure out how I have it first since Robert is the one who has to go to an office, and figured it’s because of my life-long struggle with allergies and sinus problems so of course I have symptoms first… I went to the bathroom thinking about who the best people to care for Tucker might be if Robert and I were on ventilators and OMG we haven’t updated our wills…

Dear God, why me now? But my heart said “Well, just who do you think you are? Immune? Sheesh.” 

I looked in the mirror and noticed how red my eyelids were. “I don’t remember this as a symptom,” I thought. But hey, who am I – maybe this is how it manifests in me. 

Even the devil on my shoulder grew sick of this line of thought and reminded me I’ve had allergies forever, and well, it’s May now, dumbass. 

It’s just allergies. Gah.

***

I reached into the sharable sized gummy bear bag and got three green ones. My very least favorite color gummy (but my favorite M&M). I sighed. “Of course! Just who do you think you are!?” The devil on my shoulder laughed and said “You’re not special.” 

Sigh. 

But then, the angel on my other shoulder was like “Take the clear ones for yourself.” 

I felt weird and worried but remembered our shared Jolly Rancher bag and how it has zero red ones left because Tucker ate all of them. I dumped that sharable-size gummy bag on the table and took all the clear ones and put them in a Ziplock to have for myself.

Pretty dramatic self-care, I know. 

Elementary School Graduation

Tucker graduated from fifth grade this week. While I’m so glad that e-learning is over, I was extra sad because here, sixth grade means middle school. In a new building, and one we’ve never seen. WTF. Er, well, hopefully, he’s heading to a middle school we’ve never seen next fall, because who knows if school and life will ever be normal again.

His class had an online meeting Tuesday – the last one of fifth grade.

While everybody got a personalized “Congratulations, Tucker” (well obviously the kids not named Tucker heard their own names instead) but it just felt meh. I was sad the school didn’t do more, but also felt like “Just who do you think you are? Everybody is feeling this…” It sucks for elementary school graduates, middle school graduates, and well, it sucks for kids just going into a new year at the same school, too. It sucks for parents, and teachers, and everybody except maybe dogs, because they’re getting extra love these days.

At least, Nugget is. 

Except I’m trying to practice giving grace to myself. And not being hard on myself. And so I remind myself that it’s not weird to cry over the idea of nothing ever being the same ever again and how in the world will all this isolation affect us forever and always and how will we repair the scars? 

OMG how will we repair the grief and trauma from this? *nope- not going there. That’s for another day.*

When I think “Just who do you think you are” (this week’s Finish the Sentence Friday prompt), it’s almost always negative. It’s something I say to myself when I’m feeling down, like “who do you think you are? You don’t deserve (fill in the blank).” But this week’s prompt is co-hosted by Mardra, and she always shares a photo with the word prompt. 

Here’s this week’s photo:

These penguins? Definitely not negative. Penguins make me happy. Yes, it’s too easy to say “just who do you think you are?” in a mocking way to ourselves.

But also, I know that I’m growing, being, and healthy. I have love, a home to work in, and food in the pantry. I know that penguins make me smile. And mostly, that’s enough. 

Also? E-learning is DONE. At least for now, and that feels like enough, too. Here’s a recent project Tucker did. I thought it was hilarious although I continue to wait for his teacher’s comments about his title slide. OMG this kid. He knows who he is. At least for now and I hope that never changes…

P.S. I am also now a woman who owns a 5-person raft. Tucker and I biked up to our tiny neighborhood reservoir this week, and some teens had a small sailboat on it. Tucker asked “Mom, can we have a boat?” and now we do.

 

This has been a Finish the Sentence Friday post, with our monthly co-host Mardra. The prompt is “Who do you think you are?” with the penguin photo.