Daily Pics from the WangenSchool: 4.18, 4.19, 4.20, 4.21.20

The other day I had a moment of panic.

Not because of the of the pandemic or the isolation, or even the stress of all this...

I had a moment of panic feeling like it might be almost over.

I know.

In my defense, I've always been a bit agoraphobic. I love the idea of traveling, but two days into the trip I'm longing for home. I love going places, but I relish winter when it's so cold that we are stuck inside together without pressures to go out and do all the things.

There's something about being forced to stay home with people you love that is imprinting quite a memory page on my lifebook.

When we were younger, my sister and I would play "poor" and take a backpack and our Cabbage Patch children and move onto the front porch. (How blessed we were at the time that our reality was not everything we owned in a tiny bag. .. but we were suckers for dramatic backstories to guide our shenanigans.)

I used to love huddling together on the porch. With everything we needed in our little faded Jansport backpack, (you know, just the essentials; hair combs, Lipton cup-a-soup packets and Bubbletape....), we weathered the storm in the scary wilds of suburban Eagan.

I think I loved this game so much because everything felt safe and contained in my little world. The anxious controller in me relished the stress-free zone that fit into a 3 x 10 space on the front of my parents' house.

So I admit, there's part of me that is not looking forward to when the flood gates open. When we start running to all the activities and we're lucky if our family eats together on a given night.

I'm hoping I can take a page of this time and carry it through.

The safety part.

The people-we-love-time-together part.

And if not, sorry Mom, I'm moving onto the porch.