They say that love is an open door, but it’s not right now. Right now, love is a closed door. Right now, love means having to say you’re sorry, but you’ll have to cancel that birthday party, that game night, that concert. Fish fries, first communion, Easter, confirmation, prom, graduation. All the things that people so look forward to in the springtime—gone.

Right now, love is an open heart. An open mind. Right now, love means doing your best to stay healthy when so many others are ill. But right now, sometimes, health is hard to come by.

When I had Bubbles, I wanted nothing more than to be a stay-at-home mom. I quickly discovered, however, that I am not actually a very good stay-at-home mom. When I had Bubbles, I lived—somewhat isolated—in the country: we had one car, which my then-husband used for work, and no internet. He worked nights, so during the day, I had to keep the house and mind the baby without waking him up. And since our room was on the main floor of our house, that was something of a challenge.

Once again, I find myself living somewhat isolated in the country. Except that now, I have my own car and I have internet access. I could go places, get out, but it’s too risky. So even though my door is wide open, so to speak, that openness is only an illusion. It’s an illusion that I’m not coping with overly well at the moment.

I spent my morning trying to marshal the forces into tidying up the basement and the garage while I made phone calls and worked at a project online. I’ve spent more time trying to get Cricket and Thumper to just do their chores than I have actually getting my own things taken care of, and I can feel myself getting fed up. I don’t like being the angry mom. And I wanted to have a fun afternoon working on a writing and drawing activity with them, maybe watching some Star Trek, but as I’ve said before, I plan and God laughs. He must be having a pretty good chuckle at my expense today.

I try to keep things positive here, but right now I’m struggling to find the positive in all this. I could have it a lot worse. But that’s small comfort when you find yourself thrust into a role you never expected to have to fill quite so completely (read: teacher). I am not a good teacher, and I have the utmost respect for the people who have taught my children over the years and will continue to do so in the future. But right now, I’m struggling to fill that role. I know it’s impossible to be a perfect teacher, but I fear that I won’t even be an adequate one and that the only lesson they’ll learn is that Mom doesn’t handle frustration well, and that’s not the lesson I want to teach them.

Hmm.

That was a bit more open than I’d intended, but it feels kind of good to get it all off my chest. It’s funny—as an introvert, you’d think being stuck at home wouldn’t bother me. And I think if my kids were grown, or at least if my younger two were a little more grown, it probably wouldn’t. But having to play referee day in and day out has already begun to wear, and it seems there’s no end in sight since my kids will be out of school till at least the end of the month.

Love is an open door? What I wouldn’t give for an open door.

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