I Just Can’t Get “Back to Normal”

I feel like we are all just supposed to be “back to normal” now. Like there’s some unspoken edict that says “Move on” and “get back to life.” We are coming up on a year since the first shut-down, and I feel like there’s pressure for life, businesses, schools, relationships….everything to be back to normal with a sprinkling of masks and a bit of physical distancing.

While I am so very thankful to have a flexible job, I still have this sense of guilt that “work” expects us all to be functioning at 110% like we used to. That the only real change is that most of the work is virtual now and therefore, “just get it work done.”  The thing is, there are no breaks at work like there used to be. There are no lunch breaks – I just heat up some food between meetings and eat during the next meeting. There are no commute breaks any more that would allow my brain to rest as I drove to and from home or to a meeting. And sometimes I would be so very lucky and would get to a meeting early and the sun would be shining and I would have a glorious 10 minutes to walk around the block and breathe in the warm spring or summer before settling in. Or I’d get in early to the meeting and chat with the couple other early birds, making small talk or connecting about a new project or idea. These days, I wake up, get kids to school, and sit….and sit….and sit…..alone at my computer (except when I’m yelling at the dogs to stop barking at everyone walking by!). My to-do list is endless and four or five things are added for every one scratched off. My email responses are days late or forgotten all together. Despite all the virtual interaction, I miss people. I miss travel. I miss the energy that comes from brainstorming and working together. And I’m certainly not back to normal.

Resting heart rate as a sign of stress – highest peak was when febrile and sick after the 2nd vaccine; second peak was the stress around boys’ school in February!

I feel like my boys’ school expects us to all be normal again now too. Literally my eighth grader has not gone into the school building all five days of a week for a month. I don’t think he’s mentally ready to do that. He got so out of that schedule that it elicits fear and anxiety in him to actually do it. Last April when I complained that the boys just weren’t able to do “remote learning” on a two-dimensional device given their attention deficit, the teachers reassured me, “Don’t worry, we’ll get them caught up next year.” That was before we knew that a two-week shut-down was a fanciful dream. Now it’s full steam ahead, as if they didn’t miss 25% of last year and had a very slow start for the first half of this year. There’s still an expectation to work at “grade level,” complete assignments, be present and engaged whether at home or at school. There’s an assumption that the kids will be flexible and resilient and go with the flow, even if they do find out at 6:00pm that they are in quarantine and have to remote learn tomorrow morning. We pretend that this constant change, this fear of being around people that’s been instilled, this interacting through a mask, this learning from an iPad, this watching teachers on a screen doesn’t faze them at all. We “speak” of mental health in our kids but we don’t make any changes.  We talk about the achievement lag that is hitting all students across the nation, but what are we doing to actively address this? There’s no way this is a “normal” school year for students or teachers!

I feel like relationships are struggling with the “are we back to normal” yet question. When we greet each other, we now ask, “are you okay with a hug?” instead of just rushing into each other’s arms. We are wary of people that we don’t think are using the same safety protocols that we’ve adapted to for our households. We limit our time together and question every move – were we together too long? Did we site too close? It’s been so long that we’ve welcomed people into our homes that we don’t know how to do it any more. We don’t know if we’re comfortable with people over. And we certainly haven’t kept (I mean, I haven’t kept) the house to the same standards of cleanliness as we’d like in case people do “pop over.” Hearing others’ stories or seeing social media posts, I see that others are hanging out together much more than I have, but I just don’t feel back to normal yet.

All of the usual stresses and challenges of life are happening in the context of greater stress and more worry. And while there’s so much pressure to be “healthy” and “coping” and handling the new situation, I must allow myself to acknowledge that it’s not normal yet and that’s okay. That I’m not managing everything as well as I thought I used to, and that’s okay. That I’m more tired and more irritable sometimes, and that’s okay.

What’s okay is that I am doing my best in the face of the greatest challenge of this lifetime and that I’m leaning on as well as supporting friends and family and relationships in the midst of this, including the three growing boys in this messy house who are also trying to figure out what’s normal now.

A friend reminded me this week of some words I had spoken six years ago…..

She gifted me with a reminder as well. We may not be ready to function as “normal” as much as we’d like things to “just get back to normal,” but we will persist.

If you or someone you know needs help, call the National Suicide Prevention Line (1-800-273-8255) or visit the website for resources. According to an NPR blurb this week, the increased stress from the pandemic will likely soon relate to physical health changes for many.

Let’s continue to uplift and encourage one another.

How do you build persistence?

I walked into Brighton Music Center last week. I thought I would be carrying a big bulky cello with me to return the rented instrument. For the past several months, Super Tall Guy has said “I’m quitting” every single week after cello and then orchestra practice at school. Every single week. “I hate missing recess” (happens rarely). “I hate taking it on the bus” (not even once a week does he do that). “I’m not going to practice” (that’s true – he hardly ever took it out of his case at home).

And every week, I would reply, “You can’t quit yet. You chose this instrument. You have to stick to your commitment until your concert in January.”

The next rental payment was due the day before the concert. Super Tall Guy spent the day grumping, “I’m not going to wear those shoes, they’re too tight.” “I’m not dressing up.” “I don’t have any dressy long pants.” “I’m wearing my tennis shoes.” “I’m not going to the concert.”

I wondered if it would be okay to return the instrument the day after the concert. We’ve never had an instrument in the house other than the piano which is definitely out of tune and woefully neglected by the only individual who can create a tune on it. I just didn’t want to pay a month’s worth for just two days of cello use.

The day of the concert was the first day of real snow of the season and we braced ourselves against the wind walking to the auditorium. Kids wandered up and down the aisles. Parents searched for rows that had enough empty seats to meet their “save me a seat” requirements.

Tuned and ready!

Tuned and ready!

Super Tall Guy meandered to the front to join the throng of kids waiting to have instruments tuned by very patient music teachers.

And then they began. It took a few notes, but soon each song became recognizable. Most of these third graders started four months ago without any musical ability. It was not until last month that they started to use the bow rather than just plucking the strings. It’s an impressive feat for a music teacher to turn 70 rambunctious 8 and 9-year-olds into musicians.

“Well, Super Tall Guy,” I queried as we stepped out into the night, “What did you think?” “It wasn’t bad” – and voila, we’re not taking the cello back yet, I thought to myself!  “Maybe some day you’ll be playing Cello Wars Lightsaber Duel!” “Nah, it makes blisters on my fingers.” Ah, sigh….

I’ll just rejoice in the fact that I’m plopping down a check on the music store counter instead of an instrument and hold out hope that he’ll persist for a bit longer with the cello (maybe at least until the Spring Concert). And I’ll be grateful for a passionate music teacher who inspires new musicians, a committed homeroom teacher that sends reluctant kids down the hall to practice, great music stores that make it possible to try instruments, and a school that supports musical arts. And the PianoGuys who end their Cello Wars video with the Jedi Mind Trick “you will start cello lessons now”….

It worked.