everything's not awesome

I've been spending a lot of time at home with my kids lately. Just me? Surprisingly enough, homeschooling my children in German and cancelling everything in my future outside of staying home was not in my dream plans for the next month.

Instead of my normal routine, we now spend our mornings doing math homework and listing to the Lego Movie 2 soundtrack--neither of which I really enjoy. The song 'Everything's Not Awesome' has really spoken to me lately, maybe because I've listened to it 657 times.

I really thought I would be good at this. I'm great in a crisis and I've always excelled under stress. I've kept great marks in my masters program while moving countries, having a fourth child and learning a new language. When the announcement that all Swiss schools were closing for three weeks, I went into a planning panic. Rocky took the older kids the next day to work on their soapbox car (before everything else was shut down) I spent several hours researching home school schedules, planning our routines and compiling job charts complete with life skills to be learned and options for child direct projects. I printed out a 'couch to 5k' plan and posted it in our kitchen. I bought a lego robot stocked up on small toys for the prize box and announced that all screen time would be in German or French. I was prepared to be good at this.

But I wasn't.

Within a week I felt like the song, "What's the point? There's no hope. Awesomeness was a pipe dream" but mostly I've just identified with Batman, "I just wanna eat carbs, pass the ice cream."

Sure--on paper I've performed well. But I've felt a bit broken.

Last week Rocky walked into the kitchen during our morning homeschool session and took some pictures to document this abnormal time. Later that week, I thought I would include one of the pictures in my weekly email to my mom. I opened up our shared google photos file and found multiple pictures of me grimacing and angry, most likely trying to discern which work sheet was the Verbenheft and which was the Verbarbeitsblatt. I wondered if this clenched teeth determination to excel would be how my children would remember this time--me barking orders and demanding they do extra math worksheets to compensate for following behind in their Deutsch because of their incompetent mother.

Today was the date school was originally supposed to go back. Instead we have one more week of homeschool before our two week spring break. Instead of a road trip around Ireland, we will be  doing much of what we have done the past three weeks--staying home. Maybe school will start again in May, maybe it won't. This is heavy to me. Being responsible for school, church, physical activities and everything else that is included in my mom job description is heavy. Sometimes I feel there could be 3 of me going full speed and I would never accomplish all that I feel needs to be done. But what is essential? What is important?

These are questions I've been searching. I am not sure what the answers are yet but I do know what they are not. It is not essential to be happy always. It is not important to finish all the worksheets and assignments perfectly. It is not essential that my house is clean, that we eat a perfect diet, have an ideal home church program or no screen time. Because "everything's not awesome, but that doesn't mean that it's hopeless or bleak". I know there can be good that comes from this and I hope to find it. Even if it's hard. Even if it requires me to carry heavy things--even if it asks me to set down things I don't need to carry.

dolomites

Last February we took our first family ski trip and I declared it my favorite family vacation we had ever taken. It wasn't the ready meals for breakfast and dinner, the indoor kiddy pool, the all day childcare or the goat mascot, though those things did help (except the goat). It was that we were all doing something outside together and we were all being challenged. It also helped that instead of being on childcare duty, I was actively participating. As we have been looking through our picture books from that week, Oskar is baffled at his disappearance. He looks at our family pictures on ski lifts or drinking hot chocolate and asks, "Where me?" I tell him the truth, at childcare with Pitzi the goat mascot. This yet to placate him. 

Since I knew being outside and being active helped us to enjoy our time together as a family better, I decided to plan a week long hiking trip to the Dolomites. The region between Italy and Austria had been on my list for a long time but it was just far away enough to not make a weekend trip. 

We booked an airbnb that was also an outbuilding of a castle and packed only hiking boots and hiking clothes. Everyday we set off for another hike. We kept them around 10k since Winston was hiking the whole time. Oskar maybe clocked 15 steps in five days. He is still using the ergo carrier I received as a baby gift when pregnant with Eliot. It's clearly ready to be retired but I think we can eek a bit more time out of it. 

 The views were diverse and spectacular. The neat thing about hiking is that it often turns into a one on one activity. We had some great conversations and talked a lot more than we would have in the car or walking around the city.

 That's not to say my kids are willing hikers. The first ten minutes of every hike there is a heavy amount mutiny happening but if we persists we all seemed to settle into a steady gait.

 We are also strong believers in bribery and would stop for a hot lunch most days at a mountain hut, which is something we haven't done in Switzerland were we always picnic or grill.

 The roads throughout the Dolomites are winding and narrow and we had several complaints of car sickness but only one vomit incident. It's possible we left the clothes out to dry during our hike and maybe threw the pants in the trash. 
Winston ended up doing the hike in a hodge-podge of extra clothes we had: Oskar's rain pants, Violet's extra shirt and my coat.

One day Eliot, Violet and Rocky did an airbnb experience and climbed this mountain using via ferrata routes. 

 Of course on our longest and hardest hike, all the mountain huts were closed for the season. We survived on some cured meat, protein bars and the promise of pizza.

 All the kids wanted a turn with the camera. Winston's not a bad photographer and Oskar is so clearly too big to be in the ergo carrier.

 This trip is my new favorite trip we have taken. It was so great to see my kids do something hard and enjoy it. It was also wonderful to have so many quiet, unplugged moments to casually chat. And the stunning, craggy peaks that were around every corner didn't hurt either. I hope we can make hiking trips a regular occurrence. And Oskar will appreciate that he is at least in some pictures.