Tales from Staying at Home Part 5

School canceled through May 1 last week. Well, canceled isn’t exactly right, they “closed campus with distance learning” is more accurate. And we just got a call that school is now closed for the remainder of the school year. And what’s so surreal is that it still manages to surprise us. Like these changes still manage to surprise us with, “Wow, I’m shook.” I mean, we would have been shook to go back. But it’s still weird to grapple with these adjustments.

Today the heater went on automatically at 6:30 and my emotions snuck up on me because it felt like that little gesture belonged to a very different world. A world where we woke up for school. A world with routine. With social plans. With freedom.

Sigh I mean, everything is relative and I feel so appreciative of all the small things that we have these days.

My recent reflection was that we have two threads in my mind. One is getting used to this new normal. We don’t wake up and adjust to the idea of staying home. We don’t wonder about whether a movie will release. We lean into new routines. We don’t expect to sleep well (still).

And, at the same time, other things are more intense. I still feel like I need to take every possible precaution. This means that even the “essential” activities, like going to a grocery store, are not attainable for me. I stockpiled really well for three weeks, but as we approach that three-week mark, I tumble into pockets of anxiety about trying to sort out plans for the coming weeks. We have friends bringing perishables by the house. But that’s supplemental- milk and eggs- and not a shopping cart worth of food. So what happens when the freezer empties? I’ve investigated delivery options. Some items are sold out or back-ordered. I have three dishwasher pods left (I know, we’re massively lucky to have a dishwasher so even that anxiety feels somewhat self-absorbed, but it’s an example). I cannot simply order them because some retailers have it massively more expensive. And my way of making ends meet is to choose sale items or wait for it to go on sale (start looking in the weeks before I actually need it). Being unable to do that process is disorienting, and it seems to only feel more intense as time goes on.

I research options for other delivery options, which all let me learn about the services, only to say it’s sold out once check out begins (after the first frustrating research, I test it before trying to learn more). So they act like there’s an option for having food delivered until you actually try to order it for delivery. And we don’t eat out so it’s not even restaurant delivery. Sigh I am so grateful for the friends bringing us supplies. I’m trying not to feel guilty. It’s just hard to try and think ahead.

I was okay with the photography sessions going on hold and that’s another way that the intensity starts to feel more overwhelming. Because I came to terms with a few weeks or a month. But as things get worse, and timelimes extend into May and June, I wonder how long I can keep everything on “pause.”

So while some things are becoming more routine and less novelty, other things are becoming more anxious and intense. The sense of routine can easily tip into anxiety super-quickly. Like the daily expectation of being home is routine and fine until we talk about how prom is canceled or another strange awareness moment arrives. It’s all disorientating and surreal.

While all the small adjustments are also extra-small when we hear about the much bigger stress and grief for families directly affected by the virus. All the anxiety quickly feels small when I hear about the much bigger scary moments that are possible. It’s all so much.

I’m not sleeping well. We have our touch-stone routines like neighborhood walks/scooter rides and workout club. We set up the kitchen table for distance learning every day. At first, my middle schooler and I were so overwhelmed by schoolwork, but we’re finding ways to organize.

It’s simply constant. Constant planning. Constant wondering. Constant questions- like is this cough (which is super-normal once allergy season starts), is this cough allergies or could I have somehow weirdly gotten it from touching the mail too soon? Could I have been exposed while using a bag and leaving the mail in the garage for days but what if that wasn’t enough days? It. is. exhausting.

The cough is allergies. But what if allergies weaken my immune system and make me more susceptible? Is that even possible? Should I look that up?

Phew, the rabbit holes are many and deep and wildly sneaky.

The coffee table is a tableau to our current life. The speakers and cables are from nightly Work Out Club. The hydroflasks covered with stickers. The D&D Starter Kit that we started a game. And a Justin boardgames from one of the first days at home. And laptop charging for school.

Mostly, we’re fine. We are extremely fortunate because we have a backyard. And friends that can bring perishables. And we don’t have a job that puts us in direct contact with the public. We are deeply grateful. It’s just tricky. It’s tough.

We’re allowed to say that it’s a challenge. We’re allowed to feel overwhelmed and weary. We’re allowed to be shocked. We’re allowed to wonder how long we can manage this new life.

Then we take a breath. And we continue forward. And we support one another. We find glimmers of joy amidst the anxiety.

Ian cracked an egg with two yolks (one was already in the bowl). Chewie naps on my lap in the morning. Our dog enjoys lazy mornings.

Anika found old Lego sets in the garage and set to making them. She dedicated an entire day to assemble Bag End.

I put up icicle lights in the front window to share extra sparkle with the neighborhood.

From left- Hera, Artemis, Aphrodite (and Cupid), Ares, Demeter, Dionysus, Apollo, Athena, Hermes, Hades, Zues, and Poseidon

Ian and I created the Greek Gods and Goddesses with Playmobils for a distance learning project, which inspired the sharing of fun memories as we scoured the box for accessories.

We dance in the kitchen, bake brownies, and wear pajamas all day. We watch Lord of the Rings in the evening, binge Lucifer and American Horror Story (not Ian). Days are filled with ordinary moments, punctuated with extraordinary emotions. We are grateful for all that we have. And we wish you an abundance of good health.

Sad statistic: cases pass 100,000 and now over 200,000 in the United States