Last weekend, I was talking to a friend and I confessed that I feel like my household has two modes right now. It’s either inertia… or shouting.
After a trip to the dump, I asked my husband to drive around town, simply because I couldn’t bear the thought of going home. I explained that the negative energy in our house was sucking the life out of me.
One kid is grounded for missing curfew.
Another kid is barely passing his classes.
A third kid lost all of his screen time for bypassing the parental controls.
It’s too much lounging. Too much avoidance and lethargy and sleeping in. Too much time on screens. There’s nowhere to go and nothing to do.
It’s typical February cabin fever multiplied exponentially by a year of COVID restrictions, and the exhaustion is pervasive.
I think about the energy required to rally the troops for family game night, and then I curl up on the couch with the remote, because I can’t muster the strength.
*****************
This morning, I got up early and began working on the children’s message; I needed to record a mini-sermon, based on the scripture reading and our recent theme. I had been working for a few days to try to come up with something, and I was struggling. I had a kernel of an idea that came to me at 2am, the night my kid missed curfew and I couldn’t fall back asleep. But it wasn’t coming together. I would change one thought, and a new hole would appear.
So I sipped my coffee and prayed on it. I tried to breathe, to ‘let go and let God…’ And then it came to me. I wrote a four minute talk about not feeling good enough and remembering that we are loved no matter what. I reminded myself that I don’t have to earn love or earn blessings. God has given those freely. My obligation is only to use them, to bring good into the world. To bless others.
******************
It was a relief to have that children’s message done. It had been hanging over my head for a few days, just another thing on my mental to-do list that I was happy to cross off.
And then I went on with my day. Jack and I left the house early to go to the junkyard. In his job, he accumulates copper pieces, which can be turned in for cash. They opened at 7am, and we drove through the gates at 7:08. We grabbed coffee and breakfast. The luxury of a meal without the children cannot be overestimated right now.
We stopped at the grocery store. I picked up the ingredients to make hot cocoa bombs, and he grabbed what we needed for a pot roast. We now had a plan for the day, and it felt good. One more stop at the dollar store for Valentine’s treats, and then we were home. All before 9:30 am.
When we got back to the house, the kids were awake. In front of screens… but awake. It was a start. Jack and I conferred over another cup of coffee. We were determined to avoid the inertia today.
I made chili. We got the kids to clean their rooms. The washing machine ran all day, and the clean clothes even got folded and put away. Bea went to work, but we rallied the other two to help make hot cocoa bombs. It was our first attempt, and even though they were a little lopsided, they mostly stayed together. Jack filled the chocolate molds. Cal put the cocoa and marshmallows into the empty chocolate spheres. I sealed them, and Lee decorated them. The grumbling was good-natured, and we had a few laughs while we made them. It felt so good to have everyone working on something together. Of course, I forgot to buy milk so we could actually USE them, so I’ll have to let you know how they taste some other time.
What was different about this day? Was it that Jack and I were on the same page? Were the kids just feeling the cabin fever, too? Was it my own attitude? I thought back to my children’s message. Maybe I was finally following my own advice. Maybe I just needed to relax and remember my blessings and let God do the work.
We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging, but it was the good kind. We watched a little TV, joked a little, cleaned a little. Cal played in the snow. Lee created a new character. Jack played the guitar. I read my book. When Jack’s pot roast was done, we gathered at the dining room table, and I marveled at how different this day had felt. I was proud and relaxed and relieved that we had managed to avoid both the inertia AND the shouting.
And what happened next was nothing short of a miracle. Instead of bolting from the table, Cal asked, “Can we play a family game?”
GUYS. I’m not even joking. Someone OTHER THAN ME wanted to play a game. Lee and Jack resisted a bit, but in a good-natured, joking sort of way. And when Bea finally made it home from work an hour later, we were on our second card game. Lee looked up, and said, “If I gotta play, you gotta play.”
“Yeah, okay,” she replied. “Lemme just grab a snack.”
So we played. There was laughter. There were snacks. There were excited dogs and even an intermission… and everyone came BACK to finish the game. No inertia, and no shouting… except for the fun kind.