Never did I think I would write those words, but sometimes, I miss 2020. Specifically at this moment.
2021 had all the promise of being way better than last year. The vaccine was rolled out, though it was hard to find at first, we all eventually got it. Things were looking up, despite the loud anti-vaxxers protesting.
I got my vaccine in April. I remember getting emotional right before I walked in to get it. I felt like that part of my stress was over. I spoke too soon. The Delta variant came by and messed everything up again. Masks were once again required, after loosening restrictions, but this time, people weren't so quick to comply. They were fed up. I understand, I'm tired too, but I also have the common sense to want to take care of myself and those I love.
I think this year, the pandemic was harder because it's been a year and a half. We are so, so tired. Burned out. Even though I wear one everywhere, I'm also sick of wearing a mask, it's hard to breathe, especially after recovering from COVID.
Then I had to find a preschool for you, despite my concerns about COVID. Some places were loosey goosey with the mask restrictions and I wasn't comfortable with that. Others had way too many students, so I didn't like that. I finally found one that worked for us.
The emotional aspect of you starting preschool weighed heavy on me. I was a mess. Little did I know getting through your first day would be the easy part.
I honestly don't know what the issue is, but you are not adapting well to preschool. It's now the beginning of November and I often get calls from the teachers about your behavior. Your dad and I have tried everything: taking away your plushies (you haven't had them in a week, and you LOVE those things), no phones or tablets, no television, time outs, everything under the sun to avoid corporal punishment, like how we grew up. And you're just not having it. Nothing is working. I don't know what else to do. I hope by now, we have figured out what the issues are or you have outgrown that period of your life and we can look back at it and laugh, but man, it's rough right now.
Coupled with that stress is your grandmother's recent breast cancer diagnosis. Ugh, I hate even typing the word out. This especially makes me miss last year. My poor mom. I hate that she has to go through this scary process and I hate that I can't help her. I feel like I've been living an out of body experience since I've heard. I haven't yet had the breakdown I feel like having, there's never any time, nor privacy to do so. I guess that's a good thing, things are moving too fast for me to breakdown. She had surgery this past week, which seemingly went well, but we're still waiting for her to heal before chemo starts, which I hear is the hardest part. I mean, it'll all be worth it in the end, if she can beat this thing, I just know the path will be long and difficult.
The one silver lining to this year is that we are close to welcoming a new member of the family. My sister is pregnant and making me an aunt! Baby L is on her way any day now and we're all excited to meet her.
Enough sugar coating. I am angry. I'm so mad and I don't even know at who: God, fate, life, etc. My sister is a fucking champion. Last year, the pandemic messed with her wedding plans and she didn't let it get her down and this year, instead of basking in the upcoming arrival to the family, she's dealing with my mom's health issues. I'm sure she's broken down, and we always tease her about being the actress of the family, but she has put up a great front with this battle. She's taken my mom to her appointments, communicated with her doctors and even took her to her surgery. I'm a little apprehensive at taking over once she gives birth, but my sister set such a good example for me that I know it's going to work out.
I'm so tired, but I will find the strength from somewhere to finish out this year.