The other day, my daughter said something that startled me …

She had hit her knee on something (as toddlers do) and as we were getting changed, she looked down and saw it.

“Booboo!” she exclaimed.

“Oh, no,” I said. “Does it hurt? Do you need kisses?”

She looked down and frowned thoughtfully. “It’ll be okay. Just gotta wait.”

My daughter is a couple of months past her second birthday. She is a tiny sponge, soaking up everything. So it shouldn’t have surprised me that she came out with these sentences I have no recollection of teaching to her.

But it did.

I’ve been a little down late. Yes, more so than usual. I hear it’s a universal thing this month, as we approach our one-year pandemic-iversary. I feel I have been remarkably patient with this whole pandemic thing, content to sit inside, count my blessings, and wait. But this month I find myself far less patient than usual.

Perhaps it’s watching others get vaccinated, book trips, and spend (indoor!) time with their families, knowing as a young(ish(, healthy(ish), non-essential worker, I’ll be at the end of the line. Perhaps it’s the fact that I still have no house of my own, after searching for over a year. Perhaps it’s seeing other babies being born, along with the nagging sense of my age, telling me if I want another child I need to act soon (but I need to wait for the vaccine. Or do I? No one knows.) Perhaps it’s my career being largely on hold this year as we chose not to send our daughter back to daycare until things improve.

Everything is in limbo and nothing is settled which leaves me feeling unsettled.

But my daughter’s words are a good reminder.

It’ll be okay.

Just gotta wait.

Photo of my daughter taken by me, on a recent sunny day