Last night it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I didn't expect it. Not really at all.

The kids and I had, for the most part, a very good day.

Some misbehavior, but there's never not.

Some lack of focus, but that's par for the course these days.

But, other than that, we were all pretty happy, getting along decently well, and there was lots of laughing.

Until about 9 pm when I parked my tired butt on the couch, overindulged in some sweets, and started to cry.

Why was I crying?

I wish I could tell you.

It didn't last long, thank God, but the tears still dropped.

Because all of a sudden, I got this wave of a notion in my head that I'm not doing enough for my children as it relates to keeping up with their education.

That we're heading towards week four of 'crisis schooling' and that the kids and I both are hitting a wall, one each of us perhaps wants to bang our head into with the hope it might wake us from this nightmare.

And that's not saying that I feel like the kids are a nightmare or that they feel that way about me (because I sure hope not), but that they very much miss a structured learning environment, their school campus, their teachers and their friends.

And, for them, I miss it all too.

You see, I don't hold a candle to their teachers. I'm nearly as intelligent, organized, or patient.

I'm nothing like their friends. I'm not who they want to gab to, joke with, or tell their secrets to.

Our home is not full of pictures, posters, books, and activities intended to spark their curiosity.

I make a crappy PE teacher, I can't sing or draw worth a lick (though that doesn't stop me from trying), and I don't know a dang thing about playing the violin.

To be honest, I can barely wife and mom well 'cause I hate doing dishes, I suck at cooking and can't for the life of me keep our house clean or keep up with the laundry.

So, last night, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

ALL OF THIS.

All of this PLUS the fact that for over a month now,

I haven't been out of my dang home to do anything other than go for a walk or aimlessly drive around.

And not to mention, I haven't hugged my mom!

Man, that's the worst of all of it, right?

But then I start to think that if the worst for me is that

I'm a bit bored and stir-crazy,

itching to go to a coffee shop or restaurant,

dying for some affection from my one and only birther whom I still get to talk to every single day,

and not "killin' it" when it comes to homeschooling my kids,

then maybe I don't have it so rough,

shouldn’t be feeling all “woe is me,”

don’t need to be crying,

and perhaps how I'm handling who I've got and what I've got going on is so 'enough' right now, it's actually borderline impressive.

Cue more crying for feeling guilty for crying.

Oye vey.

The world is a mess right now, people are looking and feeling messy, and we're all experiencing a cluster fudge of emotions.

Exhibit A = me last night.

But there are no tears this morning. Nope.

This morning I thank God for a husband who came out of his office around 9:30 pm last night -- where he was still working his tail off when I went bed around 11 -- to encourage me to

remove any pressure off me and the kids,

allow for mistakes, missteps, and mishaps,

and to never forget that if all I accomplish in a single a day is loving and laughing,

I've done my job and done it well.

And that nudge, well, it hit me like a ton of bricks, too.