I sometimes catch myself feeling bad for my kids. They are in first grade and preschool and have missed out on many fun school experiences. Pippa also missed her birthday party, which was supposed to be in the second half of March. And now, it is almost certain that they are missing out on The Summer 2020 I so carefully planned back in January. (Camp! Trips! Raging Waters!)

When I start to feel bad for my kids, I remind myself of something I read when Pippa was a baby (book and author long since forgotten). To paraphrase, the writer said that as parents, we often think our job is to smooth the bumps and potholes that our children face; but in actuality, our job is to teach them how to navigate the ups and downs of life.

The Covid-19 pandemic has been an excellent opportunity to do just that.

Of course, that is easier said than done. I am on sensory overload from all the noise my kids make. Zoom is a shitty substitute for actually seeing my family and friends in person. And damn, it is tough to spend all day, every day, with my kids. I love them, but absence truly does make the heart grow fonder.

But current circumstances are out of my hands. If I dwell on just how surreal life in Pasadena has become, I make myself anxious and upset. (Yes, I am speaking from personal experience.) (Voluminous personal experience.) When I remember that the pandemic is God’s business, not mine, I relax and feel the tension whoosh out of my body.

Still, this sucks for my kids.

And so we loop back to why I remind myself, again and again, that this is my opportunity to teach my kids how to navigate the uncertainty of life. I am not perfect at handling all the Covid-19 bumps and potholes. Somedays, the bumps feel like mountains and the potholes feel like unexpected drops off a cliff. As often as my kid see me living with the pandemic in a way that approximates grace and good humor, they also see me feeling angry, sad, confused and frustrated.

I believe this is what they call being human.

Maybe my heart aches for my kids because I think that is the way I am supposed to feel. Maybe this crisis is a blessing in disguise. Why should their summer be programmed with camp and trips when we can take long walks and look for potato bugs? They are ages four and seven and they actually still enjoy my company. One day, they will be surly adolescents who roll their eyes and groan when I suggest family board game night, but right now, in this precious present moment, they are eager to do anything and everything with me.

I started this post with the idea that I need to let my kids experience the Covid-19 pandemic because it will help them develop grit and resilience, but as I write this, I feel a new idea emerging….

I need to let my kids experience the bumps and potholes of life, but maybe I am imagining the current bumps and potholes.

Maybe this is about my mindset.

If I think, This is a tragedy and abomination! How can my kids miss out on camp! They are being cheated out of childhood! then Summer 2020 feels ruined before it can even begin.

But if I think, This is a golden opportunity for us to have lazy mornings and days and days without agendas or appointments, to step away from the usual summer busyness, then we can savor the summer ahead.

This is not the Summer 2020 that I planned, but if I let my imagination run wild, it might be better than anything I would have planned in My Former Life.