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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.

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