A manic depressive Mother of 7 with ADD, OCD, and WTF. Also, I write stuff.
When I was a little girl I never had any dreams involving kids or of being a mother. As a matter of fact, I never even considered it. While the other girls were busy playing house or with their dolls, I was figuring out how to fit an old-school typewriter into the piece of carry-on luggage I'd be taking for my upcoming Amtrack adventure with my Abuelita.
Cheska, grab a pen, I'm gonna need you to transcribe a little memo in the hope that . In triplicate... 2020 was catastrophically boring, oxymoron or not, and I fear if we don't have some sort of plan in place, if we don't remember who we were before the COVID show, we may never find our way back! I’ve always been my own worst everything.
My Dearest 2020, I must admit, when the idea of counting my blessings during your reign was first brought to my attention, the gratitude list that resulted was a rather small one. Okay, truth be told, it was non-existent. In my defense you must realize that up to this point, I had already spent countless hours creating lists. Numerous lists of my own all about you, your impact, and your faults. All of which were born from resentment, fed by tunnel-vision, and nurtured with current affairs via podcasts, news, and public opinion.
On the First Day of Christmas, My True Love Gave To Me- Unbridled Po-ver-ty... I don’t know about anyone else, but the one thing that I didn’t need after the year we've just been through is Christmas. What is normally one of my favorite times of the year, has now become just one more thing that I loathe. One more expense that I cannot cover. One more thing that I must figure out exactly how I'm going to pull off. One more bill with exactly zero dollars designated for it.
2020 has been rough. Pushing the pause button on our entire lives could never be an easy feat but adding in the familial prison that became our reality was nothing short of cruel. And whether we embraced the reprieve from our normal day-to-day or used the time to do nothing but “finish Netflix”, it seems we all have one commonality: We have packed on a few unwanted pounds, routines, and self-esteem issues.