A Lament for 2020
Today, my husband and I were talking about Christmas. Specifically, Christmas 2020, and I came to the sudden realization that, for once, it didn’t seem as though we had “just put all the decorations away,” and yet were about to put them back up like it often does in our busy lives. In fact, I could barely remember Christmas 2019. It seemed like another life, or at least another century. Just one more casualty of 2020. I’ve been trying to get back into the swing of writing, having hardly written at all in the past year. And I’ve got ALL the excuses: 3 kids, the youngest of which turned one a couple of weeks ago and has just tentatively started sleeping through the night; my middle child just *finally* triumphed over potty training after a grueling six month battle; general exhaustion by the end of the evening once the kids are asleep. Definitely too tired to make my thoughts make sense in a meaningful way. Then I realized that my biggest hurdle isn’t truly any of these things. It i...