Quarantine: Mon. 3/16
It was a tough first day. The kids were fine (I'll get to them) but I'm struggling, just trying to process the relentless onslaught of new developments and recommendations along with a deepening fear of something terrible waiting just outside the door. In the air is palpable, visceral, existential dread. We have a curfew now. No big deal, except I suddenly have an intense desire to make a late-night Targe run. And--New York. A city that I still think of as mine. I can't shake the doomsday feeling that it'll never be the same, that it'll never recover, that even if (when?) the pandemic ends it'll be a shell of its former self. I also feel like open borders--the ability to travel anywhere in the world for the price of a plane ticket and a suitcase--will be a memory we talk about with the kids. And they won't believe it was ever something we did together. Paris? You could go there? What do you mean, we went to Japan?
I know this isn't a popular view. Or a realistic one (right?). And I wouldn't say it publicly except here, on my blog, with its very few (and hopefully very friendly) readers. Andrew thinks I'm crazy, but the closure of the entire world as we know it is hitting me very hard. I hope, as this quarantine goes on, it's easier to adjust to this new reality. Maybe today was just a day to Come To Grips.
It was also a day to homeschool! A perfect combination: emotional collapse and full-time, hands-on child rearing. My zeal for homeschooling lasted exactly one day. Don't get me wrong--I'm so happy the girls are home. I may not ever send them to school again (a decision for another time). But my head is just in splinters, and it was really hard to foster the positive, productive atmosphere I'm aiming for.
That said, we didn't do too badly. The girls started off with some typing practice--learning to touch-type is a Quarantine Goal--through the site Dance Mat Typing. Then Greta did some reading while Lucia worked on an assignment her teacher posted. Then both spent a very long time working on the stories they're writing--a project they began on their own a couple of days ago. Greta was at my desktop, Lucia was on my Chromebook, both of them in my office. Greta's writing a story about a magical lion and Lucia's story is about three girls who turn into mermaids.
I sent them outside to play for a little while, and then we had lunch. Our afternoon art project was making leprechaun traps. Full disclosure: this is probably my least favorite activity of the year. The focus on leprechaun pranks and leprechaun traps is something their (wonderful! beloved!) preschool did, and it stuck. So I got out some (hoarded) shoeboxes, glue guns, random Easter grass and sequins and paint, and they set about making elaborate traps. Then there was all the setup before bedtime, involving long paths to their bedrooms made from plastic gold coins. Least. Favorite. Holiday. Anyone who knows me knows I tend to go very big for holidays--always overboard on the gifts and traditions and celebrations and, yes, MATCHING FAMILY PJs--but I can't muster even one iota of extra enthusiasm for St. Patrick's Day. (Sorry, kids. I'll make it up to you on Easter.)
They spent the rest of the day playing outside and then playing with their Maileg mice in the basement. I made Tuscan Pasta in the Instapot for dinner. Andrew and I tried to panic shop for more groceries online but no one's delivering. I tried to read a book instead of constantly check headlines today, with minimal success.
I feel pummelled by the day, not because of the kids but because of normal life being yanked out from under our feet. I lost it a little tonight, when I was trying to read to the kids and Carmel Judy (the Cabbage Patch) was loudly offering plastic gold coins to Pot Belly (my 41-year-old teddy bear) and I just gave up. I may have delivered the very mature and helpful "I AM DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE," with is a tantrum I give at least once at the beginning of every summer, when new rhythms leave me unsteady and exhausted. I know we'll be fine. I'm lucky to have kids who love doing whatever I throw their way and who entertain themselves for however much time they have--trying to fill our days is not going to be a problem, and the happiness of all being home together is what will get us through this. And we are beyond fortunate that Andrew has a good job that will continue to pay him his regular salary, so we are not facing life-altering financial disaster. This is not nothing. We are lucky in so many ways and I fully acknowledge that. But. The news. It gets worse every single second. There's no time to process each new change before BAM something else happens, something else is taken away.
I know this isn't a popular view. Or a realistic one (right?). And I wouldn't say it publicly except here, on my blog, with its very few (and hopefully very friendly) readers. Andrew thinks I'm crazy, but the closure of the entire world as we know it is hitting me very hard. I hope, as this quarantine goes on, it's easier to adjust to this new reality. Maybe today was just a day to Come To Grips.
It was also a day to homeschool! A perfect combination: emotional collapse and full-time, hands-on child rearing. My zeal for homeschooling lasted exactly one day. Don't get me wrong--I'm so happy the girls are home. I may not ever send them to school again (a decision for another time). But my head is just in splinters, and it was really hard to foster the positive, productive atmosphere I'm aiming for.
That said, we didn't do too badly. The girls started off with some typing practice--learning to touch-type is a Quarantine Goal--through the site Dance Mat Typing. Then Greta did some reading while Lucia worked on an assignment her teacher posted. Then both spent a very long time working on the stories they're writing--a project they began on their own a couple of days ago. Greta was at my desktop, Lucia was on my Chromebook, both of them in my office. Greta's writing a story about a magical lion and Lucia's story is about three girls who turn into mermaids.
I sent them outside to play for a little while, and then we had lunch. Our afternoon art project was making leprechaun traps. Full disclosure: this is probably my least favorite activity of the year. The focus on leprechaun pranks and leprechaun traps is something their (wonderful! beloved!) preschool did, and it stuck. So I got out some (hoarded) shoeboxes, glue guns, random Easter grass and sequins and paint, and they set about making elaborate traps. Then there was all the setup before bedtime, involving long paths to their bedrooms made from plastic gold coins. Least. Favorite. Holiday. Anyone who knows me knows I tend to go very big for holidays--always overboard on the gifts and traditions and celebrations and, yes, MATCHING FAMILY PJs--but I can't muster even one iota of extra enthusiasm for St. Patrick's Day. (Sorry, kids. I'll make it up to you on Easter.)
They spent the rest of the day playing outside and then playing with their Maileg mice in the basement. I made Tuscan Pasta in the Instapot for dinner. Andrew and I tried to panic shop for more groceries online but no one's delivering. I tried to read a book instead of constantly check headlines today, with minimal success.
I feel pummelled by the day, not because of the kids but because of normal life being yanked out from under our feet. I lost it a little tonight, when I was trying to read to the kids and Carmel Judy (the Cabbage Patch) was loudly offering plastic gold coins to Pot Belly (my 41-year-old teddy bear) and I just gave up. I may have delivered the very mature and helpful "I AM DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE DONE," with is a tantrum I give at least once at the beginning of every summer, when new rhythms leave me unsteady and exhausted. I know we'll be fine. I'm lucky to have kids who love doing whatever I throw their way and who entertain themselves for however much time they have--trying to fill our days is not going to be a problem, and the happiness of all being home together is what will get us through this. And we are beyond fortunate that Andrew has a good job that will continue to pay him his regular salary, so we are not facing life-altering financial disaster. This is not nothing. We are lucky in so many ways and I fully acknowledge that. But. The news. It gets worse every single second. There's no time to process each new change before BAM something else happens, something else is taken away.
Comments