It’s okay to say it’s hard right now

Last week was a struggle.

Yes, Purim was fun. But having all of the kids home all day, without a routine and no idea when they’ll go back to school?

Not so fun.

I was not enjoying having my children around all day.

I missed my morning walk with my husband.

I missed my quiet time.

I missed being able to do errands without having to think about taking four children and worrying if wherever I needed to go had a bomb shelter nearby – so I stayed home.

I missed the ease of a normal bedtime with the kids in different bedrooms, rather than everyone sleeping in one room.

I missed sleeping through the night, in my own bed – rather than sleeping with the kids in the reinforced room all night, or sleeping part of the night in my room, then grabbing my blanket and pillow and dashing into their room at the sound of a siren. Every time we had a siren in the middle of the night, it took me three hours to get back to sleep, so I woke up out of sorts every morning.

It bothered me that I was bothered by all of this. After all, our situation is much better than most. We are so blessed. We have a safe room, my husband has employment that is unaffected by the war. We have a yard for the kids to play in. So how can I complain?

And on top of that, I’m the mother who homeschooled for 22 years, who loved having her kids around, who embraced the covid period as an opportunity for everyone being home and loved it…and now I’m feeling worn down because the four youngest kids with special needs are home all day and I don’t have my personal time?

Yes, that’s right. And it’s more than okay to not smile and feel fine with how everything is right now. We have to let ourselves feel the sadness or loss before we can move on to making things better.

I had to remind myself of that, and let myself be okay with not enjoying being home with everyone around the cloc,

Yesterday I spoke with two friends on the phone, one after another. When I asked, “How are you doing?” they both said, “Thank G-d”, with a kind of reluctance in their tone.

I laughed when the second friend said it, and told her, “We’re all saying that because no one wants to complain, but no one is saying things are good!”

It’s hard. It’s hard for everyone. Even if you’re in the best of situations, it’s a big change of routine for everyone and it’s hard.

It’s not just a change of routine, as if it was summer break.

There’s a war. And though we in Israel have been through this before, and expect ourselves to go on with life as normal, it’s not easy.

Before the war officially began, I woke up early that morning to the sound of the fighter jets above and even before I was awake expected something was happening with Iran, because the presence of these planes has always been associated with war. We continue to hear the planes throughout the day and night.

There are advance missile alerts that curdle your blood and instantly wake you from a deep sleep. *If you know how to shut these off, please tell me because I’ll willingly forgo advance warning rather than have my heart rate shoot up every time it goes off.*

There are the wailing sirens of immediate danger, with sixty seconds to get to a protected area.

There are regular sights and sounds of middair missile interceptions. Yesterday ds8 ran to me in alarm and asked why there were so many booms, and I showed him the sky, explaining the multiple mini clouds in the otherwise cloudless blue sky were signs of interceptions.

There are the booms of things landing far or close to your home. Some really close. I was on the phone with ds19 when I heard a local boom, and a moment later, ds exclaimed in alarm several times, “Oh my gosh!” After a minute, he told me there was a massive boom close to him, that reverberated through his body and left his ears ringing. He was the only one on the street, but people began running out to their porches to see what had happened.

The same evening, ds16 told me a chunk of metal from an interception landed right next to his friend at their yeshiva a few blocks away (thankfully it didn’t hit him). These are the every day things that we’re supposed to act as if they’re normal because, you know, we’re so lucky we’re okay.

For me, there’s the added unease hearing the parroting of slogans and guidelines that are eerily reminiscent of covid: “Adhere to the guidelines of Home Front Command. Regulations save lives.” Why are they saying the same exact script on every newscast, every time someone official opens his mouth, every email from the schools? It’s concerning.

Of course, all of this is happening at the busiest and most tension prone period of the Jewish year, the month between Purim and Pesach, when families are already dealing with more work and expenses than usual.

If you have children or animals, they’re also being affected by all of the tension and changes. Our kids are reacting to everything just like everyone else.

Our poor dog is so stressed by all of the planes, interceptions and wailing warning sirens. On July 4th in the US, dog owners share about how hard it is for their pets with all of the firecrackers, and now it’s like July 4th all day, every day. Nala’s on high alert, sitting upright and listening, listening, listening – and clearly stressed.

No matter how good your attitude is, or how good your living situation is, all of these external events affect your nervous system and cause you to feel dysregulated. The children and animals are also being dysregulated.

Yes, the calmer you keep yourself, the calmer the kids will be. And here in Israel we’re amazing at continuing to live our lives no matter what is going on around us. But we can’t expect to not feel anything is out of the norm.

A week after the war began, I woke up and it was the first morning that I felt positive upon awakening, instead of feeling heaviness for the day to come. I smiled at the kids and genuinely enjoyed being around them for the first time in a week.

I felt like myself again, a person who enjoys her family – and realized I slept through the night for the first time in a week.

It’s amazing what sleep will do for you!

As we’re all getting used to being home together in these circumstances, it’s getting easier for us all, and every day since then has been a good day. I feel like a loving mother again, rather than going through the motions of being nice.

I recognize that I need – need, not want – time to myself to recharge. I simply can’t be with everyone all the time without being drained.

I’ve implemented a daily rest hour, and that gives the kids downtime and gives me some time to myself.

I’ve created a schedule so that we have a predictable daily flow that gives everyone a sense of predictability. The biggest part of this is regular meal times, and planned meals.

We use the time when we have missile warnings and need to go into the reinforced room as an opportunity for connection, and make it fun and upbeat. My husband brings his guitar in and we all sing fun songs together; sometimes the kids dance. Last time when we got the notice that we could leave the room, one of the kids exclaimed in dismay, ‘Oh, no!’ He didn’t want to leave!

Yes, we as a country will weather this time as we have other hard times in the past.

But we’ll get through it so much better if we make space to feel our feelings, and then find a way to meet our needs. The way we meet those needs will be different than how we usually do it. But take some time and figure out how to give yourself what you need, in some way, and once you’ve filled yourself up a bit, you’ll see how much easier it is to be kind and loving to the people around you.

Avivah