Spring Break

So, it's Friday again.

I started this blog post on 9 pm on Monday night when we in Ohio officially began being sheltered in place. Not that it was much of a change from whatever it was we were doing last week, but it helped to have an official order to explain to the kids that we aren't being paranoid or cruel by turning their spring break into brotherly bonding time on steroids. "Because I said so" has turned into "because the governor said so."

The kids, for their part, are taking this news in stride. I  keep waiting for the other shoe to drop but so far they have really demonstrated that the phrase "kids are resilient" is more than just something you say when your baby accidentally rolls off of the couch or when you forget to pick your toddler up at preschool. 

As for me, well, it's clear from my various text groups and daily trips down the rabbit hole of social media that all adults handle trauma differently.

Some people look to religion for solace in times of stress. Most churches and synagogues are broadcasting their services via webcam so you can worship from your couch and not have to deal with the yenta sitting next to you whispering in your ear about so-and-so's botched Botox.

This seems like it could be helpful, unless you are the CEO of Hobby Lobby and use "hearing the voice of God" as an excuse to keep your stores open and your employees underpaid, giving me yet another reason not to buy my doomsday crafts there. The phrase doomsday crafts in this case would refer to the art projects that one does at home during a pandemic, not the actual Hobby Lobby craft kits that say stuff like "Jesus lives here" which to me seem incredibly ominous but that could just be because the idea of another dude who needs a haircut residing in my home terrifies me.

Some people indulge their inner OCD and spend their days wiping down every surface they come in contact with with rubbing alcohol and tears and sing the entire first act of Hamilton every time they wash their hands. Excuse me while I go buy stock in aquaphor. 

Then there are the less constructive approaches. Some people rely on conspiracy theories, and I've heard some wild ones about COVID-19. There are the usual suspects coming from the Q-Anon gang starring celebrity pedophiles and the Clintons, which seems so basic at this point. But then there are some new ones that really depend on humanity hitting rock bottom for people to actually get on board with - like, that Disney created Coronavirus to boost Disney Plus sales or that cocaine will cure the disease. Yeah, that's just what we need, a bunch of coked up four year olds singing "Let it Go" on Tik Tok.  

Before I was ordered to stay home I had all kinds of ideas about how I would fill my time if I ever found myself with nowhere to go and a dwindling amount of freelance work to complete.

I'll read books!  The classics and the chick lit!  I'll teach myself calligraphy! I'll finally watch all those tv shows that people with no kids love to binge on the weekends while I'm at an elementary school gym watching back to back basketball games from noon until 9 pm. 

So far I've made it through two weeks of social distancing and none of the above has happened.  I'm too anxious about world affairs to read, too busy worried about my first grader backsliding on the progress he's made with his handwriting to concentrate on my own, and at the end of the day when I try to find something to watch on TV I'm too paralyzed by all of the options to make a decision and spend 30 minutes scrolling through menus and usually end up watching Friends reruns on TNT.

I thought that having a mandatory pause in everyday programming would leave me relaxed and give me room to breathe, but instead I feel like I never really sit down.

 Here are some of things that have been taking up my time:

1. Cooking and cleaning. 

How is it that the kitchen can be completely clean - counters wiped down, cabinets closed, sink empty of dishes, and fifteen minutes of hiding in the bathroom later it looks like someone cooked, served, and enjoyed a five course meal there? Cupboards left open, empty snack wrappers on the kitchen table, and every damn cup we own half-filled with water just hanging out on the counter like "oh heyyy girl, just try to contain me."

And yet, while you might be thinking "hey at least they can fend for themselves," as soon as THAT mess is taken care of and as soon as I sit down again, someone says "I'm hungry!" And because I feel guilty answering with "if you can reach it you can have it," and also because I know that that attitude is how we went through 9 boxes of girl scout cookies in three days, I find myself cooking yet another meal. My six year old had three lunches yesterday.  I don't know if he's eating his feelings or just bored, but he's on track to gain fifty pounds during this epidemic.

2. Having online FOMO (fear of missing out).

Has anyone else noticed how many experiences are happening online these days?  Everything from yoga to cooking classes to Bingo.  Not to mention all the live concerts performed by everyone from The Indigo Girls to Andrew Lloyd Weber. There's all night dance parties with Michelle Obama, tours of The Louvre and virtual advocacy lectures. Gone is the excuse of "I can't be two places in once."  Now it's more of a bandwidth issue. How many tabs can my browser have open before I start mixing up the chocolate chip banana bread recipe with the glitter slime demonstration.  What if I'm caught singing Closer to Fine when I'm supposed to be jamming to DJ Nice? Will the kids still get into college if they didn't log on in time to see the baby Hippo exhibit at the Cincinnati Zoo?

Now instead of feeling inadequate because I don't have my kids enrolled in ten after school enrichment programs, I feel inadequate because I can't figure out how to log in to ABC Mouse and instead let them surf You Tube all afternoon. I can set the phone on my alarm for that live concert straight from John Legend's living room, but chances are when the time comes I will be cleaning up MY living room and won't even hear my phone.

3. Cleaning out my closet. 

There's nothing like being stuck in your house for days on end to make you want to get rid of 75% of what you own. When it feels like the walls are closing in on you, less is definitely more. Also, even though most of the economy has come to a screeching halt, my online clothing subscriptions have not. They have, however, stopped sending me sundresses and cute shoes for "date night." Now that date night is a walk around the neighborhood without the kids and the neighbors have already seen me in pajama pants and a knit cap getting the mail, cute little booties are pointless. How quickly they changed their tune and started pushing "athleisure" and "work from home" collections, which basically means sweatpants.

So many sweatpants.

You can call them track pants or leggings or lounge pants but the message is the same: no one on that Zoom call is gonna see what's going on below the waist so you might as well be wearing something that is comfortable and good at hiding all that stress eating you've been doing. And although I probably don't actually need more clothes, I'm not about to deprive myself of the endorphin rush I get when I see the UPS truck stop outside my house. It's one of few remaining pleasures - right up there with Trevor Noah's Daily Show podcast and showering alone. But if I'm going to be adding more bulk to my closet, I need to rid it of some of the stuff I haven't worn since my pre-pandemic days that I will likely never wear again, either because the trend has exhausted itself (cold shoulder tops I'm looking at you) or because I never wore them in the first place.

Nothing like a deadly virus to make you realize that you don't need three knit ponchos. 

4. Fighting with people online. 

Apparently I've hit the "anger" portion of the 12 steps. Three weeks ago, when people said stupid shit on social media I was pretty good at not responding. I say "pretty good" because I'm only human, and those who know me know that I lack a filter most of the time. But over the years I've learned how to exercise some restraint and for the most part I'm able to identify who is capable of listening when my opinion is different from theirs (basically nobody) versus who will just respond with a string of expletives (pretty much everybody).

And the reasonable part of me knows that restraint is the way to go. I've never met anyone who's said "you know, I thought one thing, and then your comment on facebook changed my mind."  I have, however, felt like I was preaching to my own little choir and/or screaming into an empty void.

But I've seen and heard more racism in the past two weeks than you can get at a Trump rally.  I've heard people blame the media for stirring up hysteria and I've been sent forwards criticizing Obama's handling of the Swine Flu.  The worst was the facebook post that showed a video of a wet market in Wuhan province with the hashtag fuckchina.

WTF.

Listen, I know that the virus originated in China. I actually explained to my nine year old the other day when he asked where the Coronavirus came from that it came from sick animals that were probably eaten in China.  His response was not to hate Chinese people. He didn't ask if we were going to build another wall. You know what he said? He said "I think I'll become a vegetarian." This was kind of hilarious to me because this is the kid who considers "veggie cream cheese" as a legit way to get his recommended daily allowance of vegetables. He followed it up with "And then, when my nieces and nephews ask me why I'm a vegetarian, I will tell them it's because of the time that spring break was ruined by Coronavirus." When I asked him why he will be explaining this to his brothers' kids and not his own he didn't miss a beat before responding "I'm not having kids. They're annoying." 

I wonder if in 20 years we will see a population drop because of all of the kids who were stuck home with their siblings for weeks on end in 2020.

Anyway, where February 2020 me would have ignored the ignorance online, March 2020 me is stuck at home with nothing to do but clean out my closet and kick myself for forgetting to tune in to see Dave Matthews Band perform live and I'm pissed about it. And so I've regressed into the person who tells people they are being ridiculous, racist and really stupid online. I may have called someone Trash, which also shows that I've been spending too much times watching Tik Tok with my 11 year old.

Sometimes my arguments are rational, sometimes they are emotional, and most of the time they are born out of a desire to feel like I have some control over the situation, which clearly I do not.  And yet, there's something cathartic about an online rant, is there not?  Especially when I know that I probably won't come face to face with any of the people I'm arguing with for at least six more weeks unless you count our family Zoom Passover Seder. 

Luckily, spring break is almost over and next week it's back to homeschooling three kids while trying to maintain what's left of my sanity.  See you next Friday!