I look at my children and I can’t help but wonder how these two years have impacted their lives. How has a world of constant sanitising, mask wearing and social distancing influenced who they are going to be and how they walk in this universe? Their worlds were made smaller by a virus that is said to have sent us to our rooms to think about our actions, made more open (perhaps) by a global racial awakening. How did we as parents move and act? what did they witness in the small spaces of our nuclear family, away from extended families and friends?. When play rooms, bedrooms and living rooms turned into class rooms? Were we patient with them? with each other and ourselves? What about kindness, did we show it and speak it? did we give vulnerability space while we preached resilience?

Its eighteen months into the pandemic and for some of us in Australia, it feels like the hook of a Brian Mcknight song. We are back at one wondering how this could be, and while we said we would ride the storm in our respectful vessels the first time, this time feels different. Our arms are tired of rowing, our eyes tired of staring into the distant looking for the silver lining, but more importantly, our souls are drained of all energy. The stay positive mantra is just not cutting it. Yet, as parents of young impressionable ones, carry on we must. For our children’s development is not wait out the pandemic. In one year alone, my 6 year old son went from a blissfully oblivious super hero loving child to a tiny human with well thought out questions. “what needs to happen for this pandemic to end mama?, who is the king in charge of making the virus go away?”. I have had to sit down and look him in the eye and answer these questions to the best of my ability. Calmly saying to him that this too shall pass…while secretly remembering that I said that to myself eighteen months ago.

Its during the times when I put my kids to sleep, when I tuck the toes under the rainbow blanket, that I repeat to myself that for their sake, I must get up and do it again tomorrow. Keep our routine; a walk in the morning, lots of engaging activities indoors and an unlimited supply of cuddles, because as much as I would like to crawl under my blankets and cry, childhood is not waiting. Tomorrow they will be a day older, and they will look up to me to guide them. So even though I am not sure where we are headed, we cannot stop; and on the days when I need a rest, I let them know that mama is worn out, physically, mentally, or emotionally. I let them know that when we get tired, we should all rest. Its only when we rest, that we can get the energy to face what’s ahead. One day at a time, we have to see the back of this eventually.