We slept in a little. A bit of a strep throat hangover for Theo caused him to be a beast at daycare drop off. Three days on the antibiotic and he is finally on the upswing even if his meltdown says otherwise. They never seen him like that. They were completely shocked. “This is the real Theo,” I say while they stare in wide-eyed horror. He was screaming and kicking as if I was kidnapping him. I peace out as soon as I can peel him off me.

Why am I so nervous? I do public speaking all the time. I’ve given countless trainings over the years. I can do a lot of them with my eyes closed. Most of them last 3 hours or so. This one is just over an hour. It should be easy.

Three years ago someone had the idea to put on their calendar to ask their kids what they remember about the Covid pandemic. Remember when we thought it was just going to be two weeks? Or a year into it and it was still so scary? We were so naive. Since we have a little distance from the height of it, I thought I would ask. I wasn’t expecting much from George. He was just two at the time it all started.

In the middle of January it was just viral. But then it turned into that won’t lie down, can only sleep while sitting up with his head on Mommy’s shoulder thing. Tell tale signs of a raging ear infection.

We savored a delicious dinner in a new to us spot. We lingered over dessert relishing in the intimate dinner for two. Upon arrival home, we tossed on a movie we had seen before so we can carry on the conversation with background noise. We slept in until our bodies ached with the grogginess of the late morning. Hot coffee was enjoyed while curled up on the couch in my PJs—tucked under an old worn quilt. It was the break we had been needing. Then the text came in.

It is not often that my husband and I get a date night. Back when we had no kids, we regularly went to dinner together. We would go to the movies. Then kids came and the need for childcare was always our holdback. Babysitters are expensive and we cannot always rely on family to be our pro bono childcare providers. But we would be able to get in the occasional date.

I have three children. Each is as different as they could possibly be.

I grew up Catholic. I went to Catholic grammar school and high school. We attended church almost every weekend. I know all the prayers and responses. The old school ones—I forget the new ones every single time. There is a rhythm in the Catholic mass that brings me comfort.

Who wants to hear a funny story? 🙋🏻‍♀️ I mean…the world is 💩 so who doesn’t is probably the better question.

I was trimming my bangs this morning, as you do when you can’t fit in a proper haircut. I then went off to work without a care in the world. About 20 minutes into my drive, my eye really started bothering me—like needles were being stuck into it. Lots of rubbing and a couple of eye flushes later and it was just worse. I couldn’t see anything. I called the eye doc and got in right away. Apparently one of those teeny tiny trimmed bang hairs got lodged in my upper punctum.