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The author, Brooke Crump, is a working mom in Mt. Gilead.

Corona. A word we will never think of the same again. There’s been a time or two in the past where I’ve had some guilt when it came to a Corona, thanks to my Southern Baptist upbringing, but I dare say that no night of debauchery has ever had quite this great of an effect.

Allow me to share with you some of the ways COVID-19 has brought me all the #momguilt.

I’m typically the kind of person who listens up when a doctor tells me something. But I’m also the kind of person who has a really hard time being told what to do. I also often ignorantly and blatantly choose to ignore accurate predictions by scientists such as meteorologists. If every news station says it will snow, I ignore science and go with my gut – that’s a “hard no” in Mt. Gilead, where snowflakes go to die. Same with hurricanes and even this week’s wind tunnels over MG. Although reasonable persons were saying, “Hey, corona can kill you,” I chose to ignore it. But I felt guilty while doing so. I even flew to Vegas the first week in March. There were a few in the airport with masks. Oh, how this all escalated so very quickly.

And then something happened that stopped us all on a dime. Two individuals who are beloved by all in this county suffered from COVID-19, one being a fatality. So the guilt and the fear were taken to a whole new level. Had I risked my family’s health by not locking all of us inside? How could I have posted so many funny memes online about this tragic situation? There was a newly somber tone surrounding this pandemic in our county.

I am not going to sit here and tell you I have it all figured out. I can’t tell you how to live your life during this time and no two persons face this pandemic the same. Some are deemed essential and have to go to work while fearing for their family’s safety. Some desperately pray that they can work, but aren’t able, and meanwhile have lost all their income. But I won’t get into all of that because you can read articles about these issues written by the experts. The only thing I can offer you is my insight into the one thing I am an expert at when it comes to COVID-19: #momguilt.

“Working from home.” “Homeschooling.” “Stay at home mom.” There are so many descriptions we can give this activity, but I personally have all the #momguilt when it comes to being at home all day. I freaking love being at home. Maybe it’s because I have spent the majority of my life on the go, but I live for my downtime at the house. It’s what keeps me sane and my soul at peace. But there’ve been a few times in my life when I’ve had extended time periods in the home, thanks to studying for the bar and now corona, and #momguilt comes with the territory.

First of all, there’s the guilt of the hours turning into days and suddenly a week has gone by and I’ve lost accountability for my time. Things are much easier to put off for tomorrow when we don’t “have” to be anywhere the next day. Although the weight now off my shoulders is great, that is a dose of double-sided mom guilt because then I feel guilty for being thankful for corona. And God knows I’m not keeping track of my kid’s time. I don’t even want to think about the screentime my kid has logged in his “fort,” aka cardboard box, playing Mario Kart and watching Youtube.

When I start to think about it, I step away from my work or whatever piddling activity I’m engaged in at the time and holler at my 5-year-old to go play with something. I holler that he has more toys than one kid should ever have in a lifetime and he better go play with them or I’ll throw them away. So then we start this little cat and mouse game we like to play; I go grab a trash bag and pretend to start grabbing up toys, but we all know that I’m far too cheap to get rid of something.

So then my kid whines and reluctantly engages in actual play. Then, of course, he asks me to play with him. And I say I will as soon as I finish “sending this email.” And then this email turns into a phone call. And the phone call involves me getting out some files and while I’m doing that, I see the water bottles sitting out on the table that need to be thrown away. And when I go to the trash can, I realize it’s lunchtime. Y’all know the drill. When I’m working, I’m so busy with my hustle that the only lunch I sometimes have is a few gummy worms I find in my car. It’s not like I don’t have work to do. And it’s not like I haven’t told myself, “If I just had more time at home with my kid” we would “play more together” and I would rigorously teach him all the things. LOL.

And then there’s the cheating #momguilt. You know what I’m talking about. Now, I know that some of y’all are the real deal and have hunkered down for the long haul. You people who always do the right thing, you are who I aspire to be. But like I said before, I have a hard time following the rules, and I don’t think I’m alone in sneaking social time. I’m talking about us mamas who say, “Well, we’re just considering ourselves as the same household as my sister” or “I don’t think it will hurt if the kids hunt a few eggs with the neighbor as long as they stay six feet apart.” Why do we do that? Because socialization is a basic societal need. Two months without it could drive a person to drinking – and not the kind of glass of mommy juice that we’re already doing.

I will leave you with one positive note. #myredneckmarriage is thriving in #quarantine. It seems like the more walls are crumbling down around us, the better my marriage is. Maybe it’s just that whole “got nothing to lose” thing, but sink or swim baby, only the strong survive.