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Notes from Coronavirus lockdown

Here we are, eight months into the pandemic and Oregon is entering another lockdown. I’ve never been superstitious about Friday the 13th, but it strikes me that our schools originally shutdown on Friday March 13th and have not yet reopened. Then last week, on Friday November 13, Governor Brown announced another set of lockdowns for a “two week pause.” Seeing how the last Friday the 13th lockdown announcement turned out, I can only surmise that our two-week pause will turn into a two-month pause, easing up slowly as a vaccine begins to roll out for essential health care workers.

Either way, it doesn’t affect me much as I haven’t been participating in any of the activities that are now banned, such as eating at restaurants — or socializing with groups of more than 6 people. No, the only piece of lockdown that significantly affects me is the ongoing school closure. With COVID numbers rising exponentially, this is not likely to change anytime soon, obvi.

We are entering the worst phase of the pandemic, but I do feel like we’re seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m feeling optimistic that my children’s schools will reopen in a hybrid model this spring as vaccines become available. Perhaps by next fall, life will be more or less back to normal. Seeing this light at the end of the tunnel puts me in a much better psychological space than I was last spring.

The school closures have been the aspect of this pandemic that’s been most unbearable for me personally, but at this point we’re in a routine with online school and it’s going okay. Online school now provides us with a fair amount of structure, something we didn’t have from March 13 until school began in late September.

Something that’s been surprising for me is that I haven’t particularly struggled with feeling isolated during this pandemic. Probably because I have a very busy and chatty household! Emphasis on the chatty, my children literally will not stop talking. I also see my parents regularly as we swap Paul back-and-forth (which is a necessity for my survival). But I’m surprised at how connected I still feel to friends just through occasional texts, phone calls, zooms, and rare outdoor in-person visits.

Maybe another way to look at it is, I was already used to being isolated in my life as a mom. Now most people are experiencing some form of isolation, so I’m less alone now compared to everyone else. Either way though, quarantine doesn’t have to be a completely lonely time, and you can get a lot of connection with others just through a simple phone call.

Since my firstborn was a few months old, getting out of the house has been my number one survival strategy as a mom. I was constantly planning outings in an effort to avoid feeling depressed and isolated. Frankly, I was not cut out for being a stay-at-home mom. During the years I wasn’t working, I lamented my lack of career, and whenever I was working I lamented that my career-trajectory was not “successful” enough. Now I find my world has flipped, staying at home is now a survival strategy, and the chronic stress of trying to manage work and parenting during the pandemic has proved beyond my capacity to manage.

I look forward to the time when schools reopen and I can slowly piece my life back together. Hopefully many of us will have grown stronger and gotten to know ourselves better through this process. For one, I know that I need to be pursuing my own goals. Living my life in service to my family is pretty much a necessity for this season, but in the long term I need to balance this with my own life.

“The greatest burden a child must bear is the unlived life of its parents.” — Carl Jung

I have some big career decisions to think about, like whether or not to pursue a return to teaching. And if I don’t want to return to teaching, what are my long-term goals? And what are my goals with writing? Am I content with just writing this blog where I process my thoughts for a small audience of friends and family? Or do I actually want to pursue writing for a larger audience?

Meanwhile, we just need to survive this winter. I think one of our regular activities during semi-decent weather will be family soccer practice. We took the kids yesterday morning to practice soccer on a turf field near our house, and Paul invented the “owl swoop” wherein he runs and dribbles in a large arc before swooping into make a goal.

We also might buy a fire pit for some socially distant outdoor gatherings. And I’m reading Lord of the Rings aloud to Marie. What are your plans to get through this hardest of winters?

This has been a dark year, and with the switch to daylight savings time, we now find ourselves rapidly losing daylight. So our physical environment now matches the psychological and spiritual darkness we’ve been experiencing these many months. Now is the time to increase my Vitamin D intake, and find the happy light I purchased on Amazon last winter. The lack of light can have a big impact on mood, and this year it’s already hard enough to have a positive outlook.

I think it’s important to be able to name the things we’ve lost and grieve them. My children have lost 5 months of in-person school and counting. This includes my son’s last year with his preschool friends, and the beginning of kindergarten. We’ve lost birthday parties, playdates, sports, visits with relatives. My favorite special occasion restaurant in Eugene went out of business. I’ve had to take two months of leave from my job to help manage things at home.

But — I’m continuing to feel cautiously optimistic about the future. For all that’s been lost during this pandemic, it’s given me an opportunity to focus on the things I still have. Much has been lost, but perhaps some things have also been gained.

I’ve managed to fill almost an entire journal with gratitude lists since March, in an attempt to stay focused on the positive.

In July, my family and I took a weekend trip to Central Oregon to stay at a lakeside cabin. We’d been there a few years before, and had fun, but this time I was struck by just how beautiful the surroundings were. I hadn’t realized how beautiful it was the first time I’d visited — but after months of quarantine, it seemed spectacular.

As I write this, my daughter is doing online school at the kitchen table, and I’m thankful for how far we’ve come. My daughter and I both hated the online school experience in the spring — it was just a horrible experience for our family. Now I’m just filled with gratitude that it’s actually working for us on so many levels. I have the ability to be at home with her to help support and supervise. The district provided her with an iPad to do her work on so she has her own device. She’s actually learning and has in fact made fantastic progress in her reading since schools closed in March, and seems to be above grade level in math. Online school is even fulfilling some of her social needs, as they’re providing lots of quick opportunities for chatting.

I’m thankful for the opportunity I have right now to take leave from my job. I’d been trying to just keep going and try to make things work, and suddenly a few weeks ago I felt like I couldn’t do it anymore. I was getting chronic headaches, the kids were watching way too much TV, Paul has been sneaking sweets everytime I turn my back, and my house looked like a disaster zone. So I made a plan with my work to take November and December off (with partial pay). On my first official day off and I spent most of the day doing chores. I tackled the bathroom over the weekend, and am now working on a deep clean of the kids bedrooms (not a project for the faint of heart). I could devote the bulk of my time off to housework, but I’m hoping to be mindful of also taking time for myself for things I enjoy like exercise and writing.

As for my candy-sneaking son, he’s been spending a lot of time with Grandma, which is another thing I’m thankful for. I’m also thankful that he is enrolled in a low-tech, play-based kindergarten program. He only has three 15-minute Zoom meetings per week, compared to my 3rd grader, who spends about 5 hours per day completing schoolwork on her iPad. I think he’s a bit bored and understimulated, but I’m trying to make up for that in other ways. The kids are taking a PE class two afternoons a week this month, so hopefully that will be a positive experience for both of them. I’ve also discovered that Paul loves crafts! Part of his kindergarten curriculum involves a weekly sewing craft, and it is his favorite part of kindergarten. This month I also purchased a package of 16 craft projects for the month from our local children’s museum, and each of my kids will get to do eight of them. Paul and I had fun making a toy watch for daylight savings time and various other crafts over the past two weeks.

Yesterday was my birthday, and to kick off the day Spencer made me a special breakfast — cornmeal biscuits with shiitake mushroom gravy, topped with fried eggs. This was in remembrance of my favorite breakfast place in Portland, where we lived during our twenties. I had a sweet day with my family, and challenged myself to a long (for me) run of 3.5 miles. I also got some new books that I’m super excited to dig into. Caste, by Isabel Wilkerson, The Rosie Result by Graeme Simsion (the end of a hilarious trilogy), and The Once and Future Witches by Alix Harrow (loved her last book), and Freckled: A Memoir of Growing Up Wild in Hawaii by TW Neal. Dark and stormy days ahead means the perfect time for curling up with some good books.

Are you able to find gratitude in these dark times?

“People who have come to know the joy of God do not deny the darkness, but they choose not to live in it. They claim that the light that shines in the darkness can be trusted more than the darkness itself, and that a little bit of light can dispel a lot of darkness.” — Henri Nouwen

Bringing light to the darkness on a lantern walk this week. Lantern walks are part of the traditional celebration of the feast of St. Martin (Martinmas), and a precursor to modern-day jack-o-lanterns. We made lanterns in a Zoom meeting with my son’s kinder class. And — I learned that Martinmas happens on my birthday!

I’m still struggling to come to terms with the events of this year. Seven months into this pandemic and both of my kids being unable to attend school while I work from home, plus a major wildfire crisis in September which caused us to be literally stuck inside our home for 10 days — all of this has left me feeling completely wrung out and depleted emotionally, mentally, and physically. My recovery — and I suspect, our collective recovery — will be a long time coming.

I’ve been listening to Brené Brown’s podcast and she likens trying to rebuild our lives now a bit to trying to fix your house while the hurricane is still shattering the glass on your windowpanes. Meaning, of course, the storm has not passed. I’m mentally preparing to pretty much hunker down for the remainder of fall and winter, as Dr. Fauci has recommended.

Here are some things I’m hoping will help see me through this fall and winter.

  • Sweating. This I’ve found to be crucial in getting through the pandemic so far in terms of my emotion regulation. I prefer to get most of my exercise by running and hiking outside, which is more challenging in the rainy season. But thankfully it’s already part of my routine — I’ve been running fairly consistently year-round for the past two years. I have run in rain, I have run in snow, I have run in hail, I have run in fleece pants, I have run in shorts. You get the picture. When I can’t get outside, I like doing yoga along with YouTube videos.
  • Green juice (and other nutritious food). I’ve been making my own green juice in the mornings for the past week. I figured this should help my body detoxify from the effects of the long-term exposure to hazardous air we experienced in September. Moving forward, I’m assuming the better I nourish my body, the better I’ll feel both physically and mentally. I blend 1 banana, 1 rib of celery, 1 small apple, 1-2 leaves of kale, and a piece of ginger with water and ice cubes. Sometimes I add lemon juice also.
  • Lean in to support. I’m trying to start an online support group with some other parents that I know. Relationships are more important now than ever, even if health requirements might mean we can only see each other outdoors with masks, or online via video chat. I’m also trying to use this time to spend quality time with my family (haha — because we’re always together!) and I have some friends I regularly connect with. I am not afraid to be an initiator and a supporter when it comes to friendships — but I’m trying to be mindful right now of focusing on relationships that are reciprocal. I have very limited energy to invest and I need the people in my life to want to be there. I’ve loved meeting friends for walks these past few months and I hope that will continue (I’m ready with my rainproof hiking boots and jacket).
  • Find some good books to read. Actually, I haven’t even had the mental focus and ability to read lately — which is super unusual for me. Anyone have any fun book suggestions? I just finished reading The 10,000 Doors of January to Marie and I need to pick another fun read aloud book.
  • Have some screen-free fun. Ugh, I am so bad at fun even in the best of times! My Enneagram 3 overachiever mentality doesn’t leave a lot of room for fun (for myself — I’ve always tried to plan lots of fun activities for my kids to keep them entertained). What does fun even look like now that we’re so limited in seeing people or going places? I think crafting may start to become a thing for us (Marie is becoming quite the artist, see photo below). Here’s a few fun things I have planned for my family in the coming weeks: kids finishing up soccer season, secret Halloween surprises including a scavenger hunt around town, and visiting the pumpkin patch. In November we’ll find some safe ways to celebrate my birthday and Thanksgiving.
Marie’s artistic rendering of the VP debate last week. I was super impressed with both the art and the fact that she sat through the whole debate at age 8.
  • Practicing gratitude. I have filled up almost an entire journal with gratitude lists since March. It definitely improves my perspective to keep writing down things I’m thankful for. And I often write down funny things that Paul says.
  • Laughter. I really like to use humor as a coping strategy. Sometimes life is just so hard and weird that it’s funny. This SNL zoom skit gave me one of the best laughs I’ve had in the past 7 months.

What about you? What are you doing for fun these days? Have you had any good laughs, and do you have any good book recommendations?

With love,

Ursula

In spite of all the challenges of parenting during a pandemic while schools are closed, I was feeling hopeful about the future during my last post. However, the past week has been extraordinarily difficult. As wildfires rage throughout Oregon, including one only about 25 miles east of Eugene, my community has been experiencing some of the most dangerous air quality in the world. At the beginning of the pandemic, my 90-year-old grandmother, who has dementia and short-term memory loss, told me over Facetime that “the air outside is poisoned,” and now her words are accurate.

Where I live, in Eugene, our air quality has been literally off the charts at above a 300 rating for the past week. It has been unsafe to go outdoors since Labor Day. This situation was manageable for a few days. We did Cosmic Kids yoga. Spencer spent hours playing Monopoly with Marie. We watched some fun Disney movies, like The Sword in the Stone, and the live action versions of Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast.

But now, as the National Weather Service keeps prolonging our air quality emergency, it’s difficult to maintain a hopeful attitude. This morning, Paul started wheezing during a tantrum, and I worried that poor air quality inside our house might be impacting him.

In addition to the poisoned air we’re trying not to breathe, we’re all deeply saddened by the impact of the wildfires on those who have been evacuated or lost homes — which includes people all around the state. It seems as though everyone knows someone who had to evacuate their home, and my mom had conversations with multiple friends and relatives around the state who were under an evacuation preparation warning. The wildfire situation in our state is an unprecedented emergency, and coupled with the COVID pandemic it just feels like its too much to bear. The McKenzie Fire near Springfield isn’t expected to be contained until late October, so it’s possible that air quality may continue to be poor for some time.

Oh, and school was expected to start this week — ahem, “school,” because online school is not quite the same thing. But it’s been delayed another week. As I’ve been learning more about the expectations around online school, I’ve been feeling discouraged by the amount of things that families are required to keep track of. For example, Paul will have a 15-minute Zoom meeting with a small group three days a week. He will also have weekly home visits with a teacher. On another day, he will have a weekly phone check-in with his teacher. There are also two additional Zoom tutorials that parents are required to participate in. This is all in addition to any schoolwork that he is expected to do. And this is just for my kindergartener — last spring I spent hours with Marie every day trying to get her to complete assignments for her second grade class.

So, what can we do expect muddle through this mess, and try to hold our breath until this is over. Because in 2020, we all can’t breathe.

Fall has always been my favorite season, so I can’t help feeling a bit hopeful and optimistic at the moment. Sure, the pandemic is not going to be resolved soon, and both of my kids will be doing school entirely remotely for the time being. True, trick-or-treating won’t be happening this year. Yes, the Pac-12 canceled football (genuinely excited because it means I don’t have to watch football this year!).

These past 6 months have been really hard, and I know things will continue being hard for awhile. But I’m still looking forward to fall because:

  • My daughter will be starting consistent childcare. After a DIFFICULT spring at home (which led me to find a therapist), my daughter spent several weeks at daycamps this summer. Camp proved to be a lifesaver for our family — greatly improving my daughter’s attitude and my own. When I learned that our schools would be closed for fall, I decided that childcare for my daughter was a must. We are very fortunate to have the ability to pay for childcare, even if only for one of our children. I also feel fortunate to have found a childcare spot when there are not many options available in our community. Her childcare will include quiet time and support with online schoolwork, as well as enrichment activities including art and yoga. My heart goes out to all the other families who are struggling through this time, and I’m hoping and praying that they can find solutions that work for them.
  • My son will be starting kindergarten (remotely) at a Waldorf-inspired charter school. I’m super excited about this because they recognize that it is not developmentally appropriate for kindergarteners to learn online. (This should be obvious to anyone who has spent time around 5 and 6-year-olds, but apparently it is not). They are required to offer daily Zoom sessions, but we can opt out of those if he’s not interested, and most of their other work will be offline. Again, we’re very fortunate to have gotten picked out of the lottery for a spot at this school, and fortunate that I applied for this school last winter before we really knew what was coming down the pike. I’m also very fortunate that my mom is willing and able to support him with his remote learning so that I can continue working part-time.
  • We have a new puppy! Yes, and his name is Albus Dumbledore. In my mind, it feels like it was a spontaneous decision, but in reality, we’ve been talking about getting a dog for a few years. I was trying to work through my pros and cons list (cons: fleas, poop/pee clean up, cost, etc), and didn’t feel quite convinced, but Marie and Spencer were really advocating for a dog — so I figured we might as well go for it. He is a 10-week-old charcoal lab. He seems to be helping us all feel more positive in general, so I think it was a good decision. Therapy pup!
  • Fall colors and weather. I love fall when it is still sunny but not as hot as summer. And the colorful falling leaves are great. A good season for hiking.
  • Halloween. My kids get super excited about Halloween, and there are lots of activities that go along with it. Although I’m sure we won’t be trick-or-treating, we can still get costumes, carve pumpkins, put up decorations, and maybe have a little Halloween party with my parents.
  • A simpler schedule than my normal fall. One of the positives of this pandemic for me has been cutting back on some activities. It’s actually nice to have eliminated extracurriculars for the season. In pre-pandemic life, Marie played sports several times a week, and participated in Girl Scouts, and we also went to church weekly (and sometimes had extra church activities). This fall, our only planned extracurricular is a weekly soccer practice for each child.
Our new charcoal lab puppy, Albus Dumbledore the Second.

I’m working on trying to let go of those things I can’t control (most things), and just focus on what I can control (taking deep breaths). I also want to focus on having a more positive outlook. I will choose to be positive and focus on love and joy in this difficult season. But I will also continue to wear a mask and practice social distancing because I want to keep my family and my community safe.

P.S. What do you miss most about your life before the pandemic? Is there anything you thought you would miss and are surprised to find that you don’t?

This summer, the constant background noise of my mind has been the semi-panicked thought loop of, “The schools have to reopen this fall. I cannot have a repeat of the spring.”

Unfortunately for me, this past week our school district made the announcement that fall will be entirely online. I am in a sad/mad/fearful/confused state about this decision. I am angry at the challenges this poses to my family as well as the wide-reaching inequities this exposes — families that can pay for childcare or private tutors will do so. Other families will be left scrambling and be forced to leave kids mostly unsupervised. In many cases, moms will be the ones figuring out how to juggle childcare and homeschooling responsibilities with work, while dads are able to continue working mostly undisturbed.

Children will fall behind academically, but even more seriously, they will be at higher risk for abuse and neglect as support for families reaches an all-time low. Additionally, many kids rely on eating free breakfast and lunch at school 5 days a week. Even when schools continue to provide free meals, families may lack the transportation to come pick up food.

I do take the risks of COVID very seriously, and realize that there is no perfect solution. We can’t avoid risk entirely but we need to minimize it. I adopted mask-wearing in March and wish that everyone would have done so. As one article I recently read stated, “this isn’t rocket science.” We know what we need to do.

I wish so much that I could change the past, that I could wave a wand and our nation could have developed a better response to COVID that would now allow local schools to safely reopen. I wish so much that I could change other people’s choices in the present, that everyone would comply perfectly with mask-wearing and social-distancing so that this nightmare could be over. I cannot change either of those things. I can only control my own response (and sometimes even that seems difficult).

So how will my family get through this next season of remote learning? I’m not sure. Like, really unsure, and because of this, I’ve been praying for help. It’s one of the most basic prayers, “God if you’re listening, please help.” Save our ship.

Since I’ve been praying directly for help more, a few things have arisen. I put my daughter on the list for a fall childcare option that sounds functional, and made plans for my mom to babysit/homeschool my 5-year-old son. I have had a couple of outdoor meet-ups with friends, and just seeing friends in real life made me feel better. A retired K-3 teacher offered to help me with tutoring. My supervisor at work told me they’re looking into ways to support staff with children under age 10.

There aren’t many bright sides to this pandemic, but one idea that’s been resonating with me lately is the Celtic idea of “thin places” — places where the veil between the spiritual and physical world is thin. These are places where we may feel the presence of the divine, or perhaps experience the miraculous.

I’ve been in thin places a few times, or perhaps I should clarify, places that were thin to me. In the trailer where I taught fourth grade at a tiny mission school in northeast Portland, praying with my students daily about their little and big concerns. On a study abroad trip to West Africa, the Holy Spirit seemed almost as present as the smell of diesel fuel permeating the air. Hiking through Mt. Pisgah Arboretum with my family.

Could the idea of thin places also apply to times in our lives, and could this season become one of them for me? Could it for you? I believe that sometimes, when we come to the end of our rope, when our resources are tapped out and we can’t go any farther on our own strength — those are the times when God is able to work most powerfully in our lives.

I certainly feel thinned out, with so much of my sense of control and normalcy missing. What remains when we lose our illusions of control?

Small moments. Great blue herons fishing in the river. Hummingbirds in my backyard. My son giggling. Reading to my daughter before bed. Knowing that I still enjoy spending time with my husband after 16 years together.

Faith, hope, and love.

heron

A magical moment watching a great blue heron fish at Alton Baker Park this spring.

 

I guess what I can say about this awful time is this: It is a remarkable opportunity for spiritual growth. We would be wise to receive it as such. I have a mental picture of humanity entering into a chrysalis and eventually emerging transformed into something better and more beautiful. The transformation process itself is painful, but there can be something beautiful waiting for us on the other side if we allow change to take hold.

I know that we are all antsy for things to reopen. We’d like to move on from this and go back to the way things were before. Unfortunately there is no going back at this point. Reopening is not a magic wand that will make this all go away. If not done wisely and with an abundance of precaution, reopening will simply lead to a lot of unnecessary suffering and death.

I have compassion for the desire to reopen because I am feeling that as well. Even though I do not agree with the decision for faith communities to reopen, I understand the desire to do so.

And yet. While my faith is essential, attending a large church gathering is not. I like going to church and it has been an important part of my life for more than 20 years. I especially like dropping my kids off in childcare so that I can breathe for an hour without being pestered. But it is not necessary for me to attend church in order to connect with God, or even to connect with other people in my church. Since our lockdown began in March, I have stayed connected to my faith community through zoom chats, phone calls, texts, and YouTube livestreams. I have dropped off groceries for homeless youth at our church building (while wearing a mask) and chatted with several other women from church who were also masked. The church can continue and even flourish without a large public worship gathering. God will not be stopped by our sheltering in place. God is not confined to a church building. God is with us wherever we go.

When considering whether or not to attend a church gathering, I would urge you not to look at it through the lens of your constitutional right to gather in worship. Rather, look through the lens of how Christ’s teachings can inform your decision.

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” — John 15:12-13

How does this verse speak to you in light of the question of whether or not to attend or reopen your church?

Different interpretations are possible, but in the current context it speaks to me of laying down our rights to gather in order to protect the lives of the vulnerable in our community. I would also point out that choosing to reopen church doors may not be the best way to share Christ’s love with your community. Many people have been choosing to shelter in place not out of concern for their own health, but as an act of kindness to slow the spread of COVID and save the lives of the vulnerable in their community. Reopening churches = more community spread = putting vulnerable people at greater risk even if they are not choosing to attend gatherings. Alternatively, why not consider gathering with a handful of church friends to watch a livestream of your service or study scripture together?

My family and I will continue sheltering at home for now even though this is making me lose my freaking mind. I will use this opportunity to become more grounded in my faith and emerge on the other side of this stronger and more resilient. At least, that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

Hope to see you on the other side, butterflies.

 

 

 

IMG_8312

P.S. Not sure why exactly, but this post makes me think of the song Let Go by Frou Frou from the Garden State soundtrack. “It’s alright, cuz there’s beauty in the breakdown.” What song would you choose for this chapter in the soundtrack of your life?

I feel like a marathon runner hitting the wall when it comes to being quarantined at home with two kids, trying to work and homeschool. It’s a completely overwhelming situation. So many emotional ups and downs. It’s literally impossible to feel competent at anything right now, when being required to do so many things at once.

I guess other people are also hitting the wall, which is why my county is entering Stage 1 of reopening today.

To be clear, Stage 1 of reopening will probably not affect my life much. I will continue working from home, playgrounds will remain closed, churches will not be meeting, and of course, schools are still closed through the end of June. But it may mean that we’ll have friends over to visit in our backyard, or meet up for a walk. Even that would be nice.

Being quarantined doesn’t give me much to write about. The same thoughts and feelings have been circulating through my head since this began in March. Mostly I cycle between anger and grief that this is happening and then over to gratitude. I’m thankful that my family is currently healthy and in a financially stable situation. I’m thankful that Oregon has done an excellent job of slowing the spread of this virus. I’m angry and grieving this worldwide pandemic and economic crisis, and for me specifically — being stuck at home with my kids. It’s unsustainable…and no one really knows how long this will last. It’s just so taxing on everyone’s mental health. In further grim news, my workplace is anticipating a 17% budget cut. So I have that looming over my head as well.

So anyway…here are some fun things we’ve been doing!

  • Family Movie Nights: We used to have a lot of arguments about choosing movies. My daughter came up with the idea that we do a rotating system where everyone gets their own night to choose. So far this has been working well. Tonight is Paul’s turn…so we’ll see what his 5-year-old mind comes up with!
  • Baking. A very popular activity in our house. We even challenged ourselves with a lemon meringue pie a few weeks ago.
  • Listening to podcasts. I mentioned in a recent post that I’ve been enjoying Brené Brown’s new podcast, Unlocking Us. I also recently discovered some podcasts for kids! My kids have been enjoying NPR’s Wow in the World. I also found some others I want to try, including Radiolab for Kids.
  • Making Oobleck. Just corn starch and water. Marie gave me a good lecture on non-Newtonian fluids. The kids had a blast playing with Oobleck, although it did devolve into an Oobleck fight (which led to a double bath as well as me wiping down my whole kitchen).
  • Finishing Harry Potter. We finally finished Harry Potter 7! I am sad because we had so much fun reading the Harry Potter books over the last year. But, Paul didn’t listen to much, so maybe I can read them to Paul in a few years. We’ve started on The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and both kids seem engaged with that story.
  • Walking and more walking. Walks in our neighborhood, walks in the forest, walks through the filbert orchard, walks in the oak savannah.

Have you been finding some ways to have fun and take care of yourself through this?

 

 

 

 

Hello world, are you still out there?

I’ve spent most of the last 6 weeks trying to stay positive. I’ve stopped obsessively reading the news. I’ve been gratitude journaling, and going for long walks. Upping my weekly run mileage. Practicing yoga and silent meditation. Discovering a new favorite Netflix drama.

I’ve been checking items off my to-do list. Celebrated the kids’ birthdays and Easter. Filed our taxes. Stained the garden boxes. Deep cleaned bedrooms.

And yet. It’s hard to keep it up. It’s exhausting.

My children are not with the program of staying positive or helping accomplish to-do list items. They seem unwilling to listen unless I yell at them, which goes against all of my positive parenting training. I have been teaching positive parenting classes for awhile now, and at this point one would hope I could successfully implement it in my own life. Not only that, I don’t like yelling at my kids because it makes me feel bad and it’s exhausting. It also goes against my personality — I don’t like yelling. I don’t want to yell at anyone. If I’m upset with you, I’d much rather write you a strong worded email. Better yet, I’ll just remove you from my Christmas card list and be done with it. Passive-aggressive works much better for me than straight out aggressive.

I suppose there’s not much to do except soldier onward, and maybe just pay the kids a little less attention. Perhaps redoubling my attempts at praising desired behavior and ignoring annoying behavior could be useful. Who knows?

What I’m into lately:

Books: Finishing reading Harry Potter 7 to Marie. Also, I discovered checking out audiobooks from the library on my smartphone. I’ve been listening to The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek, a novel about a blue-skinned packhorse librarian in Applachian Kentucky during the 1930s (Yes – apparently the blue-skinned people of Kentucky were real). Also reading Untamed by Glennon Doyle and The Esther Anointing by Michele Mclain-Walters.

Podcasts: Unlocking Us with Brene Brown. NPR’s Up First.

Movies: Lately we’ve been watching the Disney+ streaming channel and enjoying the many offerings of Disney and Pixar films. Most recently we watched Monster’s Inc.

TV: Outlander. A tale of a 1940s English trauma nurse who falls through time into 18th Century Scotland (and into the arms of a handsome young warrior).

Exercise: Hiking, running, yoga. We’ve been discovering some new walks around town. Yesterday went for a long walk in the woods and Paul ran and ran.

New found appreciation: For phone calls. Texts and emails had replaced most of my phone calls, but now I’m enjoying hearing voices. Plus it can really be a more efficient way of conveying information.

Nonprofit: FOOD for Lane County. There are lots of great nonprofits out there, but if you’re looking for an organization to donate to, please consider your local food bank. Hunger will continue to be an increasing problem during this pandemic, and food is the most basic of needs.

Gratitudes: I’m thankful to have less rushing in my days, particularly in the mornings. I’m thankful for good Internet access, and the ability to do my job remotely. Thankful that my husband has been enjoying cooking for the family, and that we are all healthy.

Wishing you well,

Ursula

P.S. What are you doing to stay positive through all this?

Greetings from Coronavirus Lockdown Day 29.

Today I was briefly thinking that I’d be doing better if I were quarantined alone, than if I were quarantined while responsible for managing the wellbeing, behavior, and education of my two young children.

If I were alone, I could detail clean my entire house. I could exercise whenever I wanted. I could read all day. I could write prolifically. And also telecommute for my job.

Then, realistically, I realized that by day 29 of my quarantine, I would likely not have a positive outlook regardless of being alone or with my family. 29 days is a long time, and all signs point to this being only the beginning.

Can you tell that I’ve gotten a bit discouraged this week? Hello reader, I’ve gotten a bit discouraged this week. On Wednesday I got an email from my daughter’s school district that really made it sound like school was unlikely to start again this school year. I’d already assumed that, but still, receiving that communication from the district was a bit of a blow. Then, I went to register my daughter for Girl Scout camp for July, and the website said they are holding off on registration until they find out if it’s safe to hold camp this year.

I hope you’re empathetic enough not to just write this off as the whining of a middle class white woman. I mean, in normal circumstances, yes, I am a whiny middle class white woman. But this is not normal circumstances. This is not just an inconvenience. I’m not complaining because the grocery store is out of organic fucking carrots.

This, my friends, is grief.

This is all of my lifelines severed at once. My children’s schools – gone. My workplace – gone. My church – gone. Playdates, visits with friends. All gone. I can’t even take my children to the park anymore.

Yes, true these things still exist, in a muted, virtual format. But it’s certainly not the same for any of us. Emails, texts, phone calls and even video chats are a poor substitute for in-person interactions. The Disney + streaming channel is a poor substitute for a life lived beyond the confines of our house and yard.

Yesterday, my daughter crashed on her bicycle. As I walked her back to the house, bright red blood gushed from her mouth staining her lavender fleece pullover. My husband got home shortly after, and I drove her to Urgent Care on the advice of our nurse practitioner friend. Two stitches in the upper lip. She was brave. The clinic was almost empty, and all the staff wore masks.

Afterwards, I had to fill a prescription for antibiotics. The pharmacy called to tell me that they were out of that antibiotic, and none of their pharmacies within 60 miles had it. I was able to get it filled at Fred Meyer. My husband has been doing all of our grocery shopping, so going into Fred Meyer was a bit of a shock. I wore a mask, as did a handful of others. The pharmacist spoke to me from behind a clear shower curtain. I saw two customers dressed in cheerful, clownish dinosaur suits, like they were about to provide entertainment at a child’s birthday party.

They weren’t going to a birthday party. Straight from our collective worst apocalyptic nightmare, they were using clownish dinosaur suits as personal protective equipment to prevent viral contamination.

Sure, it’s temporary, and someday this nightmare will all be over, but no one knows when.

Still, I have a glimmer of hope. We can dream of a time when this is over. We can dream of hugging our friends and family and neighbors again. We can dream of going to the park, or a concert, or dropping our kids off at school in the morning. We can dream that  maybe, just maybe, we can harness this pain into transformation.

At the window, she considers that
She is not who she was,
and she is not who she will be.
She is transforming.
She will be strong and resilient.
She will be honest with herself and those she loves.
She will have stories to tell And when she does
They will no longer shake her voice.

From here, she will see the anxiety, the worry,
paint over its bold permanence, like oil and acrylic on canvas.
From here, She HOPES, offering it to neighbors from a safe distance.
From here, she SINGS, transcending the dark somber strain
From here, She BELIEVES, we will get through this
From here, today will be good, and tomorrow will be better.
– excerpted from Social Distance, by Kwame Alexander, with contributions from NPR Morning Edition listeners.

We will be strong and resilient. We will get through this. Tomorrow will be better.

With Love,

Ursula

P.S.  “And who knows? Maybe you were called to the kingdom for such a time as this.” Esther 4:14.

P.P.S.  Frodo: I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had ever happened.
Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.

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