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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 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?

 

 

 

 

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.

Screen Shot 2020-04-03 at 6.31.19 PM

 

 

 

 

 

 

Coronavirus Lockdown, Day 16:

During this past week, our family has stayed connected with friends and family members via technology. We’ve FaceTimed, Skyped, and Zoomed to keep our social lives going. On Thursday, Paul had a Zoom chat with his preschool class. It was pure chaos, and not much was understood, but Paul had a great time seeing friends’ faces and blowing kisses. This morning Marie has a FaceTime chat scheduled with a friend, and Spencer and I are planning a FaceTime cocktail hour with two of our friends tonight after the kids go to bed.

What’s been lost so far in this crisis — our normal routines, jobs and economic stability for many. School. In-person social connections.

I don’t want to make light of a situation that is so painful and challenging for many people. Not only are we faced with a public health crisis, we’re also now having an economic crisis, and coupled with the social isolation, we could also be facing a mental health crisis for many.

It’s been painful for me to lose my routines and the lifeline of childcare that comes through school. At the same time, I feel that I have the opportunity to learn and grow through these challenges.

What’s been gained — more time with my immediate family. No more daily battles over getting out the door in the morning and arriving at school by 7:54 am in order to avoid being marked tardy. No more time spent chauffering the kids back and forth between school and extracurriculars. A pause to rest from the frenzied busyness of modern life.

Although it’s psychologically painful, this pause to rest from my normal routine is not necessarily a bad thing for me. I still have a lot of work to do between general parenting, homeschooling, part-time telecommuting, and housekeeping. But with cutting out the commutes and extracurrics, there are more opportunities to be quiet and pause, something that is lacking in my regular life.

I’m also finding that, in spite of social distancing, I have more time for social connections. I’m connecting more with my immediate family, chatting with neighbors from across the street, and checking in with friends more than I normally do. I often have to schedule get-togethers with friends 3-4 weeks ahead of time, but now, everyone is available to chat.

It makes me think about what I’d like to change when this is all over, whenever that may come. What could I cut out from my normal life to make more time for rest and relationships?

Less work is not a realistic option for me. I already only work part-time, and that’s with 2 months off per year during school breaks. Parenting and housework also need to continue.

Reducing the amount of time I spend checking personal email and news on my devices would be a good place to start. Additionally, making some changes to my work might be warranted — not sure at the moment what that would look like.

I also want to be mindful about not overscheduling the kids with extracurrics. I typically like keeping them busy, as it keeps them away from screens, and also helps reduce the number of sibling fights. But having to get them anywhere at a specific time always creates a lot of conflict. And, I’m also finding that they like just hanging out at home. Paul seems completely happy through this whole thing, and Marie has even told me that she likes homeschooling because it means she gets to spend more time with me and she doesn’t have recess drama.

Another thing, I’d like to be intentional about is setting aside time each weekend that is deliberately unscheduled. Maybe even just half a day — deliberately not scheduling anything on Saturday morning or afternoon. And I’d like to not have Marie in sports each season. If soccer’s a must, then fine, but we won’t play basketball during winter. (Hopefully someone will hold me accountable to this!).

P.S. How has this crisis made you re-evaluate things in your life? Are there any hidden blessings for you in the slower pace right now?

Greetings from Coronavirus Lockdown, Day 12:

Oregon officially started its “Stay Home, Stay Safe,” mandate yesterday, March 23. As far as I can tell, this is a shelter-in-place mandate with an less-scary title. Our family has already been self-quarantining since schools closed, to err on the side of caution. We’re all under 40 and in good health, so I’m not concerned about our health — but I would hate for any of us to be carrying the virus and pass it on to someone else.

In order to maintain sanity, I’ve been trying to maintain a fairly consistent routine with my two kids, ages 7 and 4 (with birthdays comings soon!). Here’s what we’ve been up to:

Daily Schedule for Kids

  • Morning yoga via YouTube (Cosmic Kids for the littles, and if I get up earlier I will do other yoga videos).
  • Breakfast
  • Schoolwork
    • Language Arts & math for my 2nd grader. My preschooler works on activity books which include coloring, connect-the-dots or letter and number identification. He can also have free play time during this time if he chooses.
  • Outside Play Time. Thankfully, we have a backyard swing set and slide. Sometimes the kids ride their bikes.
  • Lunch
  • Free play quiet time (no screens).
  • Science or piano or art
  • Chores
  • Screen time (We try to do educational activities and then give them some free screen time).
  • Dinner
  • Outside, weather permitting
  • Baths & get ready for bed
  • Stories (We are reading Charlie & the Chocolate Factory with P, and Harry Potter 6 with M).
  • Goodnight! zzzz (Maintaining the same bedtime we had before).

The weather was nice over the weekend, so we went hiking one day and for a family bike ride the next. We rode along the W. Eugene wetlands and saw lots of ducks and geese, two red-winged blackbirds, a hummingbird, sandpiper cranes, and a great blue heron. There weren’t too many people around, so it was easy to maintain a 6 foot distance.

Another thing I’m trying to do is maintain some sort of housekeeping schedule. Sure, it’d be great to get a bunch of deep cleaning done. And maybe we will. But as I adjust to this situation, I’m just trying to maintain a basic level of cleanliness:

Housekeeping Schedule

  • Make beds (daily)
  • Dishes (daily)
  • Laundry & put away (daily)
  • Sanitize kitchen sink (daily-ish)
  • Sweep kitchen floor (daily)
  • Wipe down kitchen counters (daily)
  • Clean bathroom (weekly)
  • Vacuum (weekly)
  • Clean up toys in living room (daily)
  • Investigate bad smells (as needed – ha!)
  • Clean mirrors (weekly. My kids enjoy doing this. I use a non-toxic vinegar and water mix).

There are many other potential housekeeping projects we could work on. Too numerous and overwhelming to list. However, my strategy for tackling those kinds of overwhelming decluttering projects is to just pick a spot to work on for 20 minutes. But for now, I’m giving myself a pass on that.

Self-Care

How to make time for self-care while on lockdown with kids? This is a tricky one, but as this season pushes most of us to the edge (or beyond) of our ability to cope, self-care is essential. I’ve been trying to do my own yoga videos and go for runs a couple of times a week while my hubby watches the kids. I’m also enforcing a consistent bedtime for the kids, so that I have a little bit of free time before I go to bed. Usually I just use that time to write in my journal. I need to get some new books to read.

And, squeezing in time to write these blog posts is an important form of self-care for me. Writing helps me to process my feelings, and it also leaves us with a record of an unprecedented experience.

Lastly, spending time in prayer is helping me. Rather than just continuing to talk to my husband about this crisis, and speculate as to how much worse things will get, I’m trying to focus on praying through my concerns. Praying is better than worrying and complaining.

During our bike ride on Sunday, I noticed a piece of graffiti on the railroad bridge. It was just one word, “Relentless.” That word could speak a lot of things to different people, but what immediately sprang to my mind was, “Be relentless in the pursuit of hope.”

In a time that feels hopeless, be relentless in the pursuit of hope.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11

We have a future beyond this pandemic. These times may feel threatening, but we will make it through to the other side.

With Love,

Ursula

P.S. If you’re also on lockdown, what are you doing to stay busy? How are you practicing self-care right now?

 

 

 

Greetings from Coronavirus lockdown, Day 7.

I have a vision in my mind of my house as an ark, carrying my family and I along through these uncertain times. In the Bible story, the rains continued for 40 days and nights, but after that it was still 150 days before they found dry land.

We don’t know how long we’ll be in the midst of this crisis, or when it’s subsided, how long the recovery will take. As scary and disorienting as this is, all we can do is focus on the present rather than letting our anxious minds spiral into worst-case scenarios.

I did a quick run to the Albertson’s pharmacy to pick up some medication that my insurance wouldn’t pay for until today. The lady in line in front of me wore a face mask and gloves. There was a sign up that said “This store is out of toilet paper, hand sanitizer, rubbing alcohol, and thermometers.”

I’m wavering between anxiety for the future, acceptance of what is, and grief of what’s being lost. I’m currently grieving the loss of all of my routines and social structure. But even more, I’m grieving for my kids, who (I hate to admit this) will likely be out of school until September. This was my son’s last year at his beloved preschool, and all of his little buddies will be going to different schools last year.

And my daughter, a chatty extrovert, is used to being highly scheduled with school, sports, ballet, Girl Scouts, and church. For now, all of that is gone. I am so thankful that her ballet class is continuing to meet via Zoom. I almost cried yesterday when we downloaded Zoom and were able to log into ballet class. Marie was so excited to see her teacher’s face.

These are the things I’m grieving now, before the full force of the health crisis has hit our community. Our community will have plenty more to grieve as hospitals reach capacity and fatalities rise in the coming weeks.

Still, in the midst of this storm, I am finding pockets of joy. Carving out time to write is a joy. Finding that my friends and family are still readily available by phone, email and FaceTime is a joy. I’m deeply thankful that we are going through this in a time when we can stay well connected via technology. I’m hoping to schedule some phone calls or playdates via FaceTime or Caribu for my kids.

I’m thankful to have time now to focus on exercise. Sunny weather has made it easy to get outside for walks and runs lately. I’ve also been doing yoga along with YouTube in the mornings.

I’m thankful that I have a background as an elementary school teacher, so homeschooling is not entirely outside my wheelhouse. I’ve been able to stick to a schedule and keep us pretty busy at home with reading, math, art, piano and outside play time.

I’m thankful for the gift of perspective, knowing that someday this will pass, and we’ll move into the joys and challenges of a new season.

I’m thankful for sleep. I have been through other challenging seasons of life, and at times, good sleep was not readily available to me for months/years (any other moms out there?).

Thankful that we’re all in this together.

With love,

Ursula

 

P.S. Just curious, what will you do if you run out of toilet paper? What did people used to do before toilet paper was invented? Hmmm.

 

 

Dear everyone,

On February 28, I read about the first COVID-19 case in Oregon. The next morning, on a shopping trip with my kids to Fred Meyer for a birthday gift, I threw in a few random items: extra boxes of oatmeal, Clorox wipes, children’s ibuprofen, and homeopathic flu medicine.

On Sunday, March 1, I sent my husband out to the store in the early morning to stock up on groceries and find hand sanitizer. Hand sanitizer was not to be found. That day we also had tickets to see the Lady Ducks basketball team play their final home game. Go Sabrina! They were scheduled to play University of Washington. We opted to stay home thinking it best not to mix with a large crowd that would include folks from Seattle and Portland.

That week, I gave my colleague a ride home after we taught our parenting class. We’d taken care to sanitize the tables, and chatted casually about the coronavirus. “I don’t think it’s going to be as bad as they say,” she said optimistically as I pulled up to the curb in front of her house. I had a sinking feeling, but I didn’t want to worry her. “I really hope you’re right,” was all I said.

Fast forward two weeks of obsessive hand washing. I can count everyone whose hand I’ve shaken during that time. One old man at church. Two parents at a birthday party. One co-worker. One at a business meeting. I knew it was a bad idea — but somehow I felt the risk of being impolite was greater than the risk of illness.

We’re taking a break from seeing my parents to avoid the risk of getting them infected. The NCAA tournaments have been canceled, the NBA has suspended its season, and schools throughout the state of Oregon are temporarily closed until April 28 (at least). I’d been reading enough news to know that school closures were an inevitability. Last Thursday, when I picked my 4-year-old up from preschool, I realized I’d left his lunchbox in the classroom. I considered taking him back in to get it. But it hadn’t exactly been a cooperative school pick-up experience (not that it ever is). The possibility of school closures loomed in my mind, but I assumed I could still pick up his lunchbox the next day.

Thursday evening, we received notification that Paul’s preschool would be closing until after spring break. Still, I figured they’d let me come by and pick up the lunchbox. No — they didn’t want anyone back in the building. The preschool director sweetly picked it up for me and dropped it off at my parents house.

I wonder about all the other personal items left behind at preschool. Do parents need the coats and water bottles? Will they be able to pick them up after April 28? In June? July?

I like to over prepare for things. I typically spend months planning for summer break, scheduling camps, swim lessons, and other activities. But I’m certainly not prepared for this. At least we got the lunchbox back. At least for now, we have food in the fridge, and money in the bank. For now, my aging laptop supports WordPress so I can write to you.

I’m trying not to worry to much about the “how longs” and the “what ifs” but of course I am. Not much to do except focus on the things I can be grateful for.

Today I’m thankful for

  • A sunny day
  • The ability to FaceTime with my parents
  • A St. Patrick’s Day visit from leprechauns last night! They left green footprints in our kitchen and bathroom, baked “gold” (cornbread) muffins, and even green pee in our toilet! Those silly little leprechauns.

Be well!

With love,
Ursula