Motherhood In Isolation, Part 1

A series of photographs and words about what it is like to be a mother during a pandemic, isolated at home. How we are feeling with so much change and so many fears. By photographing mothers through the window, I aimed to explore that feeling of being needed and wanted all the time as a mother, which is amplified during this pandemic. The physicality of every day with young kids.  The two sides that each moment brings of being so loved and in love with your family, and wanting an escape. The mundane things that you have to do over and over. The beautiful things that have come from a forced togetherness. This series was picked up by Mom.com and can be found here.

Today I am pretending it is a sick day.

I mean, if my four-year-old was home from school with a stomach virus, I wouldn’t worry about letting him watch tv for hours while I work on the computer. Is that the reality? No. Far from it. However, I am on week eight of having Rufus home and I am the one who is struggling. I am struggling as I try to dig into any reserves that I might have left of energy or pep. I am struggling to fight my depression and anxiety. I am struggling to keep my business afloat. Finally, I am struggling to fill all of the roles staying home in isolation calls for mother, teacher, playmate, psychologist, cook, housekeeper, small business owner, and wife. I mean, once I wrote out that list, I understood why I feel so completely drained. Some days I go into the guest room after bedtime and just sit in silence. 

What is it like being a mother during a pandemic?  Every feeling we have had as mothers is amplified. That joyous moment my child is running through the yard with a smile on his face and golden sun shining on him feels so incredibly full and beautiful...perfect, even. On the flip side, a few minutes of whining for yet another snack or shouting no in my face can be enough to tip the scales and send me into a rage. Parenting has always been a practice in extremes for me, but isolation and the fear and worries that accompany it has taken those extremes and pushed them further than I knew was possible.

Our children have given us purpose during this time. They force us to stay present and perform the routines and rituals of childcare; the minutiae of a day spent feeding, playing, healing, disciplining, helping. It is an incredible gift to be a mother, to have this purpose. It really is. But taking up a new hobby during the pandemic? You have got to be kidding me.  Maybe if he still napped? Maybe if I weren’t running my own business? Maybe if I were a different person...

There are distractions from the demands of childrearing, housekeeping, and work; we are isolated because there is a pandemic, after all. Deaths, shortages, an economy teetering on the edge create fear. As mothers, we try and push our fears and worries until kids are tucked in and we have time to think and breathe...and cry and fume. Once Rufus is safe in bed, I find my mind wondering how we will continue to lead our lives in isolation for the foreseeable future. I find myself feeling angry that our kids are missing out on normalcy. I miss my family, so far away in Texas. I had to stop fertility treatments because they were deemed non-essential. My child was supposed to start counseling and was unable to. I try to keep my wandering thoughts in their allotted time slot, but find it nearly impossible not to let them creep into my time with my son. Distractions, whether worry or work, make time with Rufus harder. I know this, but the mind-numbing reality of playing “puppy” once again is like a gateway that allows my mind to forfeit mindfulness and being present.

Mothering isn’t straight forward. There is so much guilt and so much time spent comparing or avoiding comparison. We are juggling our jobs, our responsibilities, our self care. There are days when I am simply exhausted from the endless decision making and prioritizing. Days where I don’t want to hear another sound or clean another dish. Days where wondering what will become of my child, our world as we know it makes my limbs so heavy I struggle to make it out of bed.  My friend Adrienne summed it up perfectly saying “I’m so bored but also so fucking busy.” Truer words have never been spoken. 

But then there is the silver lining. My husband isn’t traveling for the first time in years and eats family dinner with us nightly. My child is so content having his papa home. It is incredible seeing their bond strengthen. I have been challenged to get creative with my photography and that push has taken me somewhere as an artist that I am happy to be. I have finally prioritized projects for my business and finished them. There are literal rainbows and flowers that we have time to notice. Rufus and I have spread a blanket in the backyard to watch the bees and listen to the birds. We know all our neighbors flowers by heart. 

Slowing down and being present while carrying so much responsibility is incredibly challenging and tiring. I am by no means saying that I will not be shoving my child out the door when his school opens. I have considered getting a dog walker for him since that is an approved thing to do… for dogs, but whatever. But I also want to hold onto some of this. Celebrating little things, savoring a popsicle in the sun.  I think it would be incredible to bring some of this forced down time into our lives permanently. Today though, I am returning to our “sick” day. Today I am out of fuel. There is always tomorrow.