This is for my fellow social media mamas: remember how we all argued a few years ago about how leggings may or may not be pants? For the record, I was on the side of “leggings are pants,” and I never left. They cover my legs, and they look like pants to me.
Cue 2020, when we all got good at putting aside the things used to divide us, if even for a while. Quarantine-life seems to have left every mama reveling in the delicious glory that legging-pants provide. They colorfully cover my legs; they move with me as I wrangle kids, and stretch to fit all the cookies. Like how can I look so cute AND feel so good?
As the necessary isolation of this early Spring set in, we needed leggings. The start of the pandemic was uncomfortable for most everyone. We needed coffee at 3 pm and 6 pm, nice pens, dry shampoo, and understanding and grace and screentime. We deserved all the best bandaids to cover the bruises left by a collective community traumatic event. The pandemic became an equalizer in the world of motherhood. Suddenly, it seemed like we all embraced a state of grace and acceptance. And things remained warm and fuzzy, but it isn’t seeming to last.
In March, we were so excited to jump in and share the sacrifice, chalk our walks, attend birthday parades. I saw less mom-shaming; I saw a more spontaneous community, albeit it through zoom.
But now, as the Fall looms and we navigate the return to school, the same Facebook pages that had become complementary and cozy are becoming overrun with discussions of masks and vaxs and distance and resistance.
I get it: people have big feelings about anything related to kids. After all, we all love our kids more than anything, more than ourselves. Add-in extra layers of fatigue, uncertainty, and loss…and it’s getting hard to keep smiling and chalking our walks.
But in this, I guess I’m just calling for a return to the marked togetherness that shaped the beginning of the pandemic. We are still in this together. And to take it further, “this” isn’t even just the current health crisis or an epidemic; it’s life.
Child rearing, motherhood, it takes a village, and sometimes that village is virtual. We owe it to our kids to model grace. We owe it to ourselves to be together, even if we feel apart.
So break out your very best buttery soft miracle trousers, fill your favorite mug with whatever you need to get through today, and spew grace like it’s free.
Because it is.
The only limit to our connection is the one we allow.