We've been waiting forever, and now it feels like it is happening too fast.

There are so many things I should be doing right now: my paid work, my volunteer work, housekeeping, my hobbies.

And yet, I'm frozen. My brain is stuck in a loop, and I am feeling so many emotions that I do not know how to express, so I'm turning to my blog as I so often do to try and figure out how to move on from the current moment.

The president of Mexico announced that schools will open on June 7. The last day of school for elementary school is July 7, so that gives the children a month of in-person school this year.

In the past almost fifteen months, my dear children have attended two different virtual schools, had one home schooling experience, and have lived in three countries. It has been hard on them and on our family.

Really hard.

I feel so stupid for saying it has been hard. Like I'm weaker than I should be.

Despite the multitude of ways this year and a quarter could have been worse, it still has been really hard.

It hit one of my children extremely hard. It has affected all three of them to different degrees.

I feel like a completely different person.

That's an exaggeration.

I feel like a changed person.

Aspects of my personality that before were overpowered or stifled have now been able to emerge. Parts of my personality that once flourished now lay dormant, and I wonder if they will ever recover.

I feel nervous about being in groups. I feel awkward speaking. I wish I could type to people, so I could read and read again my words before sharing them. Before meeting people, I worry about what I will say and do that will be stupid or rude or inappropriate, and then after being with people, I worry about what I did do or say that was stupid or rude or inappropriate.

I have no gauge as to whether I actually was stupid or rude or inappropriate. None of the people here know what I used to be like, so anything I do can't be compared to how I used to be. Now I imagine "Oh Mimi, yeah she's just like that. Be patient with her." Instead of "She must not have meant that; that isn't like her." Who knows what is or isn't like me??

Maybe I'm great in-person still. Maybe I always say the right things and make everyone feel comfortable around me. Maybe I still know how to converse in a group and lead people.

But I doubt it.

I'd like to believe it.

But my memory of how events unfold won't allow me.

Remember this post? That post from March 2020 when I had barely a clue of what covid would mean for me personally and for the world?

I still miss "silly me."

And now I'm just sitting here typing and crying.

My kids will go back to school. It will be hybrid. And it will only be for two weeks, because I had actually given up hope on in-person school happening this school year. (Surely, I thought, surely we wouldn't return with so little time left.) So I signed my kids up for summer camps with their cousins back in the States, and we were going to zoom from Michigan for the last two and a half weeks of school. Excellent plan. Why not be with grandparents if it is virtual school?

Until suddenly it is half not.

My kids will attend school two days one week and three days the other week. For two weeks.

And I'm crying. Why am I crying? Where's the excitement for the school we have so longed for?

I'm sure I'll find that excitement soon.

Right now I'm just scared? Stressed? Overwhelmed?

Maybe I'm finally processing emotions I've been repressing since this began?

I fought so hard for our routine. I battled for a schedule that worked. I attacked and defended and compromised to figure out how to get my unmotivated children to actually do their assignments and pretend to pay attention to some of their zooms. I retreated to process how to handle the emotions my children were feeling and throwing at me or hiding from me. I gained ground as I managed to get smiles and completed assignments from them.

And now. Now it is time for a new routine. A new schedule. For packing lunches and going to bed earlier and waking up earlier and not hearing everything their teacher is telling them. For extricating myself partially from their learning experience. For not being with them almost 24/7. Some days maybe they will all have the same hybrid schedule and be at school at the same time. Then I'll be home. And Jeff will be at work. And I'll be home. That's what I've been wanting, right? Some solitude? Some time to myself that isn't between 9:30pm and midnight?

Why does it sound so lonely?

Why can't I stop crying?

Okay. About twenty minutes has passed. I'm not crying anymore. I think I just need to give myself a little time to separate and figure out how to shut the door on this period of time. There have been some really wonderful moments and some really dark ones, and they both deserve their weight.

On Sunday, we will be able to attend church in person for the first time in the same amount of time, almost fifteen months.

We've been waiting forever, and now it feels like it is happening too fast.

Here are some photo memories of the last six months.