Corona Diaries Week 2

Oh vey.

This last week felt  a little endless. It felt like quarantine might go on for a lot longer than is mentally available for me to think about. Which, I mean….I can’t let myself go there. We get through today. We go to bed. Maybe we sleep, maybe we don’t. We wake up. And through the day we go. Rinse. Lather. Repeat. 

The fatigue has set in on my eyes. As grateful as I am to our little front yard, I kind of don’t want to look at it anymore. As nice as it is to take long walks with the (world’s happiest) dog, I’m really sick of the same routes. As cozy as it is to sleep past 6 am each day, I would love to get back to my gym after dropping MY KIDS OFF AT SCHOOL. I’m sorry I ever yelled at you, Children, to put your damn shoes on because at least that meant we got to leave the house. 

God, I miss yelling at my kids to put their shoes on.

I know these sacrifices are small in the greater picture of this pandemic. I know how fortunate we are to access our school digitally, prepare meals each day and stay healthy in our little 1500 square foot bubble. The fact that the front lines of this crisis seem far away and can just be switched off with a click of my remote does not elude me. We all need to do our part; we all have sacrifices big and small that we must make so others can simply survive. So our first responders can stay healthy and keep aiding those in need. When faced with the dire reality of life and death, watching Daughter do her self taught gymnastics routine 567 times each day suddenly seems pretty fucking amazing. 

But I think it’s important to be gentle with ourselves; to remember that we can be grateful and yet still cry under shaded eyes while walking the (world’s happiest) dog. That our hearts can be full with love for so much time spent with our children while also wishing they would please just go back to school and sports and friends. That one day we might crumble beneath a mountain of fear and anxiety and the next we are helping another climb gently down from that same mountain. That virtual happy hours are fun but what we wouldn’t give to wrap our arms around our loved ones and over pay for cocktails simply for the atmosphere. 

Daughter had a birthday this past week. She turned 11. Of course her birthday plans were cancelled and she was super disappointed, but she handles things so well. Said no one ever. We had a lot of talks, mostly me talking to a slammed door in my face, about how it’s okay to be disappointed, upset, sad, frustrated but we can still have a special day. She wasn’t having it. I let her cry into her pillow because I understand the therapeutic value of crying into a pillow. And even though her dramatic antics were wearing me down, I really did feel so badly for her. And that pillow.  

The big day came and there were balloons and hot chocolate and pizza and presents and one spectacular meltdown over a non-existent phone she felt she felt entitled to receive. And just when all felt lost, there was a parade.  Friends and family who decorated their cars and made signs and threw candy and beaded necklaces out their windows and honked their horns and toasted our girl from six feet away while blasting birthday songs from their vehicles. There was a small, appropriately spaced gathering of old friends and new who went out of their way to make the day of a very special 11 year old. Then came endless smiles and waves from Daughter who only hours before had self quarantined during quarantine. What could more appropriately symbolize the ups and downs of this new normal than being deep in the trenches of adolescent pain one moment then wrapped in a warm cocoon of kind gestures and simple love the next? I know that one day, dear Daughter, you will look back on this birthday and realize just how lucky you were to see what a treasure it was to receive the best gift that humans have to offer: love. And Reeses Peanut Butter Cups.

Onward we march into week three. We get through today. We sleep. We get through tomorrow. Rinse. Lather. Repeat.

See you on the flip side. 

Corona Diaries

Well, here we are. 

As I type this, it’s a quiet Friday morning, day five of homeschooling, day seven of being home. The Children are blessedly still asleep and school will start eventually as there is no way in hell that I will wake them up. That’s the thing about having your own school; you can do what you want. 

I am of course having ups and downs. Yesterday I was walking my dog and out of nowhere, tears just dripped down my face. I’m a crier, (I mean, I still cry every time Goose dies. Why does he have to die every time?), so this isn’t too alarming, but this sudden flourish jolted my emotions. Emotions that seemed too large to encapsulate so my body had to release somehow. It sort of set the tone for my day and to no surprise, it ended up being a hard day. It felt weighted. It felt endless. I gave everyone a pass, including myself, and as a result, Daughter spent most of her day doing her best to become one with her iPad. She was feeling all the feels yesterday, too. When not physically melting into technology, she worked on perfecting her door slam, which was already amongst the highest rank in the land, but practice does make perfect. 

I will say that I’ve never been in more constant contact with friends and family. I guess there’s a thing called Zoom and it’s sole function is to have virtual happy hour with friends. I mean, I assume that’s why it was invented. Also, I’m learning that I actually know less about technology than originally thought. Thank god I have a 13 year old who thinks I’m dumb and helps me. 

As my phone dings all day with messages, bringing little bursts of much needed laughter, it’s a reminder of this messy but beautifully ragged silver lining. We really are all in this together. So often during troubling times, we feel so alone and isolated. And now it’s in our isolation that we remember we’re all together. I’m right here with you, neighbor. Friend. Parent. Sister. Brother. Kids. I’m right here. And so are you. 

I want today to be a better day. The sun is shining and the sky is blue and it’s very confusing for it to be such a beautiful day when life right now is a great big unknown. I like to think that perhaps the sky is just trying to cheer us up. Remind us that each day will come to an end and then begin again and all we need to do is look up to know that we will stand the test of time. 

In an effort to make today a better day, some things about the corona that aren’t so bad:

If my dog could talk, she would tell you she is living her best.life.ever.

My kids sleep in every day. Son specifically is really making me proud with his efforts.

I get a good laugh thinking about all the people who do weird shit to their face and now they can’t. 

When I’m out walking the happiest dog on the planet, I see families I didn’t even know existed in my neighborhood out together riding bikes. Where did you people come from? And why am I just now finding out about you? You should really come outside more often. 

It’s not what ARE we going to have for dinner…it’s what AREN’T we going to have for dinner! Dinner for days and days and days is just waiting patiently in my freezer. Maybe I should take this corona lesson with me and keep planning monthly dinner menus. Oh my god, somebody slap me. 

The other day, I posed a question online about where I could find tortillas. I came home from an errand to find a bag of tortillas outside my door that a friend in the neighborhood dropped off. (Hi, Zoe.) See? In it together for our love of tortillas and tacos.

No more FOMO! Because we all know exactly what everyone is doing and none of us are invited. 

Spending this much time with my kids makes me realize that I’ve always spent a lot of time with my kids. Obviously when the day comes that they get to go back to school, we will all be weak with joyous laughter, tears and relief…but I think I’ve been doing right by them all these years. My buddies forever. (Talk to me on Day 27.) (Or maybe 17.) (Actually, maybe just on Monday.)

We made it to our first Friday. And we’ll make it to the next. Be safe. Stay healthy. Wash your hands. Don’t harm your children. And by all means, let’s takedown Common Core. Together, we can do anything.