Last week was really terrible. My response to almost every situation was tears. I was miserable. One day, I went for a walk alone to the library and passed a house that had been decorated for Mardi Gras. Mardi Gras! The green, yellow, and purple decorations were festive and beautiful. Seeing it made me happy.

Over the weekend, things got better gradually. On Sunday night, I went out and bought supplies for Carnival masks. I thought to myself, that was it. I’m over (or through?) the pandemic wall. I’ve done enough grieving about not traveling this year. There’s no school this week. Things are going to be great. I’ll make a short to-do list and be kind to myself about it. I’ll be less stressed because I won’t be doing school with the kids in addition to feeding, supervising, and managing my household. Maybe I’ll want to craft again!

Monday morning, we listened to soca music all morning. I cheerfully endured glitter, feathers, and sequins while helping the kids make carnival masks. Some kids chose to dress up in costume. We jumped up, chipped, and banged on pans. I rolled with the temper tantrums and several kids making second masks after we’d already cleaned up from the first round. I took pictures. I felt good.I knew after yesterday’s glitterfest that today would need to be a quiet day, and this morning, Fat Tuesday, I woke up feeling as dull and closed up as I had felt open the day before. I’m living in a body with an emotional regulation system that operates like one of those plants that only blooms at midnight once every ten years.Last year, we were at Carnival, loving the music, the warmth, the community. And this year, we are not.

Today, I sat quietly on the sofa and read a book called The Highly Sensitive Parent, by Elaine N. Aron, Ph.D. Aron has a lot of ideas for how to manage being an easily overstimulated parent. A surprising amount of the information can still work in pandemic conditions.In her book, she tells a story of when she was stuck home alone caring for her one and a half year old son. She was really struggling, and her husband suggested that she set toys up on the floor in their kitchen, and when the baby wasn’t looking, climb up on top of the fridge. The baby would play happily by himself for close to an hour, and she could read or journal from her perch. When her son started to fuss, she would climb back down to her duties. She played this wild card when she really needed to, and her son never noticed.

The mess on top of my fridge has bothered me for its entire existence. I  put my book down, got cleaning supplies out, and cleared it off.My youngest child is three and a half. If I climbed up on the fridge, it would take moments for someone to walk into the kitchen and asked me what I was doing there. Or, the pile of dishes in the sink would drive me crazy and I would have to climb down and wash them. Yet there was something comforting about knowing that the top of the fridge is a reasonable place to go when things get to be too much, and now my fridge is ready if I need it.

Early in the pandemic, there was a viral Twitter quip about how the pandemic had forced us to give up more than we ever dreamed of parting with for Lent. At the time it was a laugh-so-you-don’t-cry-truth.

We not only gave it all up, but we’ve had to continue to sacrifice: our sanity, our self care routines, nearly everything we looked forward to, our creative mojo, our time with friends and family. That’s just those of us who are privileged enough to not have had to give up our jobs or food security.

It is a challenge to be asked to give up yet another thing for a season that started last year and has gone from being 40 days long to an eternity.

Did you spend any time yesterday or today to celebrate the spirit of openness that accompanies the two days before the quiet reflection of Lent? Eating a special meal with your family? Having a dance party, or dressing up?Have you thought about what isn’t serving you, what you’ll set aside in this Lent within the greater societal Lent of the pandemic?

We had to give up a lot this year. And still, we may be holding onto something that isn’t serving our spiritual life. Do you have a willingness to figure out what that might be for you this season?