North Greenville MOPS

05/24/2020

Very appropriate given the quarantine we’ve all been in the last few months. What do you do to take breaks?

When a mom says she needs a break what she's really saying is she needs time to set down the mental load of motherhood and reset herself.

05/15/2020

“It may not always be pretty, but you’re doing it.”

“We’re freaking rockstars...every single one of us.”

Mamas you’re doing a great job even if every moment doesn’t seem that way. Keep it up!!

“‘Sorry, I’m just tapped out.’

I said this to one of my kids’ teachers this morning as she requested a private zoom with my child and me.

At the same time as this, I had two other kids hopping on their google meets, I had to pull my oldest from her work to hold the baby, the kids’ Dad had a call just starting, and as I struggled with my laptop to even find which Godforsaken link I needed to even click, I was ready to crumble.

The laptop wouldn’t connect to the internet. The baby was fussing. My oldest was frustrated I had to pull her from what she was in the middle of. I had noise coming from each room with all the kids trying to, you know, ‘school,’ and it took every fiber of my being not to throw the laptop off the table.

I’m one person trying to juggle the schedule for 5 kids and every day I fluctuate between moments of having it together and seriously, well… losing it.

This isn’t normal.

Any of it.

Trying to function in the ‘unfunctionable.’

That’s the best way to explain all of this: trying to function in the unfunctionable.

As the teacher immediately noticed my temperament and disposition, she was kind and started by sympathizing with all I’m attempting to run here. When she asked about a couple of lower scores on my daughter’s reading comprehension quizzes, who by the way throughout the score year has had all high marks, I immediately let go.

‘This is not an environment conducive for learning. It’s just not. My children have a loving and safe home, but no, it’s not a school. To be honest, most days it’s a sh*t show. There isn’t much peace and quiet throughout the day, and when one is trying to focus on some level of the house or in a certain room, you can hear another Zoom call or a herd of cattle coming through in another. So no, she’s not getting to concentrate nor having things able to completely sink in.’

And you know what? It felt so good to say that.

I wanted to scream it.

I wanted to cry while sharing that.

I wanted to pound my fists on the table after I got it all out.

But I found some last ounce of strength to hold some amount of composure conveying my exhausting frustration.

This all will be over soon. Right?

Or at least I keep telling myself.

This just isn’t normal.

Any of it.

We’re not supposed to be able to turn to our manuals of ‘living through a global pandemic and total, utter chaos’ and just snap our fingers and handle this all with grace.

It’s impossible.

So, for those who are looking for their white flags to raise and shake ferociously high in the air, you’re not alone.

It’s okay to not love this time and feel okay or good about it every hour of every day.

I can’t think about tomorrow or the next day or how I’m going to get through next week. I’m literally taking it one day at a time and focusing on surviving the next hour.

That’s IT.

This is no longer survival of the fittest.

It’s survival of those willing to adapt to the most abnormal time of our lives.

If you’re reading this and asking yourself how you can do it, well…the good news is, you already are.

It may not always be pretty, but you’re doing it.

It’s sufficient to say that my little breakdown to one of my kids’ teachers this morning was so well received and so appreciated on her end.

Here’s to getting one more hour in the books, my Friends.

There are crumbs on my counter.

The dishes need to be done.

The laundry needs to be switched.

The dog needs to go out.

The baby needs to be fed.

A kid needs help on their work.

There are massive bags under my eyes as I haven’t slept in 12 years.

I wore this outfit yesterday and to bed and today which is now tomorrow.

Here we go.

We’re freaking rockstars…every single one of us.”

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Credit: Regan Long of Real Deal Of Parenting

04/09/2020

All this!

Here’s the straight-up truth about how I’m doing right now:

I woke up in the middle of the night last night and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I went and sat on my front porch alone in the quiet of the pitch black, and then a car passed and I realized what a weird thing that was to do, so I went back inside and just laid in bed and begged God to be with me.

I’ve let my kids skip days of homeschooling, and I haven’t felt even the slightest bit guilty.

I’ve cried. So much. I’m actually crying right now, and I couldn’t tell you why.

I’ve also laughed so much, so that’s nice too.

I’ve convinced myself that I’m alone, I have no friends, and something must be wrong with me because it seems like everyone else is doing Zoom girls nights and meeting in empty parking lots to talk from their cars.

I am very aware of my anxiety and I’m monitoring it regularly. I’ve had to get help for it before, and you’d better believe I’m not ashamed to get help for it in a heartbeat if it comes to that.

I’ve been unbelievably grateful.

I have soaked in all of the togetherness with my family. I honestly don’t think my family life has ever been sweeter.

I have locked myself in the closet multiple times to get away. One time, I went so far as to hide in the couch cushions so I wouldn’t have to answer anymore questions. I love those people, but they never stop talking.

I have more white hair than I thought I did, and my natural hair color is darker than I thought it was. I only have enough energy to shave one leg at a time, and my sweatpants are my best friends. I don’t know if I can ever go back to jeans.

I’m worried about my parents’ health.

I’m worried about my friends’ small businesses.

I’ve forced my kids to play outside more than ever before. I maintain that it’s good for them because Vitamin D and creativity and nature and stuff.

I also took the time limit off of their screen time.

I’ve told them that they’d better not get hurt, because there’s no way I’m going to the ER under these circumstances.

I have put myself on a diet and stuck to it for a whopping four hours.

I’ve been happy that some things may never go back to normal.

I’ve grieved that other things may never go back to normal.

I have connected with every person I possibly could. I’ve made videos and left messages and made ten thousand phone calls.

I’ve also been so stressed in moments that I’ve had a hard time responding.

I’ve felt extremely alone. Have I mentioned that already?

I’ve felt like the world’s greatest mom.

I’ve felt like the meanest mom in the entire universe, including any life that may or may not exist on Mars.

I’ve felt like my career is done and maybe I should give up. Maybe nobody likes me anymore, or maybe it's just not happening. I don't know, but I've felt like this was the end of the road for my dreams.

I’ve vowed to pursue everything with more passion than I ever have before, and been optimistic that everything that's mine will come to be.

I’ve stress-shopped. I’ve stress-scrolled. And Heaven knows, I’ve stress-eaten. (I have not, however, stress-cleaned. It’s going to take a lot to get me there.)

I’ve been up, and down, and backwards, and upside-down. I’ve been afraid. I’ve been aloof, but then again, I’ve been plain joyful too.

I’ve been extroverted. I’ve been introverted. I’ve been confused.

I’ve had faith. I’ve lost faith. And then I’ve forced myself to find it all over again.

I don’t really have a point, I just want you to know that you’re not alone in whatever you’re feeling. For the first time in a long time, we’re fighting the same enemy, not in the same ways, and not in the same scope, but there is some sort of strange comfort in knowing we stand together in this thing, isn’t there?

As long as you have me and as long as I have you, and as long as we keep sharing our stories and our struggles and our strengths in support, we are going to be okay.

We have each other after all. We have love, and that’s all we’ve ever needed.

Hold onto hope, my friends.

*Follow Amy Weatherly for more.

03/20/2020

A little humor for all us new homeschoolers😂

03/19/2020

03/19/2020

I have one friend who’s stressed and keeps forgetting to call me back. I have another friend who is going stir crazy and just wants out.

I have another friend who is enjoying peaceful nature walks and days at home with her kids.

I have another friend who’s feeling guilty for not preparing better. I have another friend who’s worried about her dad, who is considered high-risk.

I have one friend who is acting like a sponge—soaking up every droplet of information she can possibly find and spending hours in research, and another who won’t even mention the word “virus.”

I have another friend who is coping with sending funny memes. Another who can’t stop working out. And another who wants to stay in her kitchen and bake.

I have one friend who is running her house on a tight schedule like a teaching boss, and another friend who emailed the school and said “yeah we’re not doing any of that right now.”

As for me, I’ve cried a few times. I’ve lashed out at my husband. I’ve made my kids do most of their work, but I have hated every second, so we’ll see. I’m only now starting to think about changing out of my pajamas pants.

But I’ve also let my kids give me tattoos with Crayola markers, and made sugar cookies. I’ve chased them around the house, and we’ve watched old movies together. I took them outside and we watched ants as I Googled facts and recited them aloud.

We’ve read as a family. We’ve laughed as a family. We’ve prayed as a family, and had some somewhat serious discussions as to what this all means.

We’ve had family slumber parties in the living room, and last night my 6-year-old asked me to hold his hand all through the night. I don’t know why, but I’m fairly certain I will cherish that sweet moment until the day I die.

I’m pretty all over the place to be honest, and I sway back and forth between pieces of peace and hours of hysteria, like a strange version of “Bohemian Rhapsody” that can’t seem to make up its mind on which category to belong. Pop? Rock? Opera? Does it really even matter?

I’ve laughed harder these past few days than I have in a while, and for that I’m grateful, but at one point, I had to take a bath so hot I could’ve made spaghetti in it (except we’re out of pasta and the grocery stores are empty right now) in complete darkness just to catch my breath.

I think the point is that we’re all feeling a wild influx of emotions right now, and all those feelings bounce around like bunny rabbits from one spot to the next. We’re all trying to put on a brave face and sing a happy song, but I think we’re all a little heavy, and we’re all a little out of whack, and we’re all processing the best we can.

There’s no book to tell you how to deal with a pandemic. There’s no instruction manual on maneuvering in the midst of madness.

So give each other a lot of grace. Just heap it on your friends’ heads by the bucket-full day after day. Pour it on your spouse, and your kids, and your kids’ teachers, and the retail workers. Pour it on the people in charge making tough calls, and the people making those posts you absolutely can’t stand.

While you’re at it, pour some on yourself, because this is all new for you too.

You ever been through a pandemic before? No? Me either. So I tell You what: I wont judge you if you don’t judge me, and we can all be a little bit kinder.

Take your baths, cook your meals, create your things, read your books, love your people, make lots of phone calls, schedule everything, schedule nothing, run through the sprinklers, feel all the feelings, do whatever makes you feel normal.

And then breathe and thank God He’s still in control, and that He gave us each other.

So much love to you & your people,
Amy