Dear mama, I see you.

2020 has been such a difficult year. Not only did the world come to an (almost) complete standstill, work life, home life, and school life all converged into one sphere of being. Parents (okay, mostly moms) suddenly had to not only parent, they had to teach too. All while working from home full time. In some cases (looking at you, America), moms doing their damndest to survive this pandemic with a shred of dignity, a glimmer of sanity and perhaps a sliver of mental health intact, were fired because, “I don’t want to hear your kids in the background.”

I see you, dear mama.

I see how you are on the last bit of your reserve.

I see how you fight and claw your way through the day, even if you won’t admit it.

I see how hard you work to keep the plates spinning.

It is ironic, isn’t it, that one of the big buzzwords of this year is “self-care.” I can say from experience that this phrase just feels a touch glib after all the stuff you have had to deal with this year. Between managing your own anxiety about the pandemic; and making difficult decisions such as “do I choose my child’s physical health over their emotional well-being?” when making the decision to keep them from, or send them to school, “self-care” simply doesn’t cut it. You need nurturing. Deep, restorative, no-holds-barred nurturing. Sadly, we are so busy caring for, and nurturing others, that you have forgotten what it feels like to be nurtured yourself (I know this because I had to ask my own therapist how to nurture myself just last week).

I see you, dear mama.

I see the lines on your face, and the bags under your eyes that are a testament to how deeply you care and worry for your little ones.

I see the grey hairs, and the and the clenched jaw as you work while you can, teach what you can and clean when you can.

I see you, dear mama.

I see you.

It is now October of 2020, a full 7 months after COVID-19 brought us all home for extended periods of time, with little in the way of respite from work, home, and school. We are tired – more tired than we usually are at this time of year. Bone tired. The frayed edges testify to this. The quick snaps, and lingering guilt, evidence of how heavily this year has weighed on not only our collective psyche, but our individual psyche as well. While we can bemoan the year that is (was) 2020, we have also been privy to the many small moments that we would have otherwise missed.

I see you, dear mama.

I see the light in your eyes as you discover something new about your little one that you never noticed before.

I see the love and passion for your family as you drive them forward, kicking and screaming at time, making sure that each piece of the puzzle keeps falling in place.

I see the love in your heart, as you patiently listen to (yet another) request for a snack, or a cuddle, or a game.

I see the leader inside you, the courageous, inspiring woman, insulating your family from the hardness of the world in its current state.

I see the soft place, the beating heart of your home.

Dear mama, I see YOU.