One of my goals this past year was to have more fun.

I am pragmatic to a fault, so I confess, I had to put “fun” on my to-do list. As I write, I can see the notecard taped above my desk with my goals—fun written near the top in pink permanent marker.

Maybe you can guess how well that goal is going. I think I can safely assume 2020 went nothing like anyone planned and 2021 hasn’t been much easier. Maybe fun has been hard to come by. Even if this season has brought sweet moments at home or unexpected gifts, maybe you’re still feeling pressed down by a thousand tiny weights. Or maybe it’s one big boulder you’re carrying. Whatever the case, whether you’re anxious about this fall’s school situation, grieving injustice, fearful about the future, discouraged, or just plain tired, I want to remind us of something.

You are still allowed to have fun.

I have never felt so horrible as a parent.

We finished lunch, and I put a movie on my for twins in the basement while I gave my two-year-old a bath. He seemed to wear summer all over his body. As I wiped off the jelly, dirt, and sweat from my little boy, I heard a knock at the door. I thought it was Amazon or maybe a door-to-door salesperson, so I didn’t answer.

Another knock.

I stood up from kneeling in front of the bathtub and glanced out the window. A woman was heading back to her car, and then I quickly realized she was just going to grab something and come back. I checked on my son in the tub, then ran downstairs to open the door.

“Hello?” I called after her. “Can I help you?”

“I’m just going to grab my ID.”

Huh? I scrolled through my memories, trying to place this woman. Did I know her? Was I supposed to know what she was there for? Did I have an appointment I forgot about?

I stood at the door, confused. She walked right into my house, as if she had a right to be there.

“DCFS,” she said. I don’t even remember what she said next. Everything in my mind got fuzzy, and all I could think to say was, “Umm, I’ve got a kid in the tub. Can you give me a minute?”