The day started with money unexpectedly being drafted from the Bee Hive account. Legitimate, but, an unplanned for expense. Money that was to cover a check written for another bill payment that would go through at any moment.

The good news continued to trickle in from there. Results of the financial challenges of this moment in time, culminating in an email saying that my PPP loan application was declined because it was never signed. (And yet, the DocuSign email saying my contract was complete sits in my inbox.) Money that I was planning on helping with those financial challenges of this moment.

As the unfortunate discoveries stacked up, I felt increasingly more debilitated as the day went on. By the time we sat down to play a game of Clue before Cash and Olive went to bed – it was all I could do to sit up. Between turns, I sprawled on my back on the floor. Not a great strategy for solving who did it, with what weapon, in which room. And, certainly not something I think I have ever done before – just check out to the point of a sprawl. (“Mommy is acting weird”) And, yet – these are not “ordinary” times. And – I felt utterly defeated. And, sort of – out of my body, with the lack of control over it all. Not that you really ever have control. But this is a, when will it end – will it ever end – will I ever feel comfortable with how things are, ever again – type of swirl of sensations. To the extreme where, all I could do was sprawl.

As we were getting ready to read (The really wonderful Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli) – Cash held out his hand to me and said, “Mommy. You are amazing. Say it, Mommy – I am amazing.” I looked at him. All of the guru-like wisdom wrapped up in his ten-year-old body combined with abundant sweetness, and I said, “Cash. YOU are amazing.” And he burst into tears. I was so surprised. “What? What is it sweetie?” I asked. He said, “No one has said that to me in a long time.”

And, that was it.

I snapped out of it.

I wrapped Cash in a huge hug and said it over and over – You are amazing. And, then I grabbed Olive and told her the same thing (although she already knows how amazing she is). And, right there I vowed to never let anything…Bounced checks. Disappointing news. World pandemics. Ever get in the way of my kids knowing how beautiful and amazing they are.

It has been a long ride now of stress and anxiety and uncertainty and fear for everyone on the planet.  A constant intake of sometimes-suffocating poisonous fumes.

And yet.

We are all still amazing.

Our kids are still amazing.

And. It feels really good to hear it. And say it.

And it may just be all we need – to snap the hell out of it. That toxic fog.

The realization that – more then ever – we need to see each other. Hold one another up. And love each other.

And now. I tell Cash and Olive each several times a day – no matter what kind of day it is – You are amazing.

And, we all say to ourselves – I am amazing.

And, not to say that it will never happen again, but…

For the moment, anyway, my sprawling has been contained.