I kept telling people that life was starting to feel like the opening chapters of a sci-fi novel. Schools closed, businesses closed, and “social distancing” becoming the new catch phrase. Shortages of toilet paper and hand sanitizer due to hoarding and panic.
This isn’t fiction. It’s reality. This was our local supermarket on March 15.
The days have gone by faster than I expected, and time has gotten away from me before I could properly blog/journal everything that’s going on. Luckily, i’ve been micro-journaling in the Exist app every night before bed, so I have a sort of timeline of the major takeaways of each day.
When the governor announced that all schools in Ohio would be having an extended three-week Spring Break, I was scrambling. The culture at my work doesn’t jive with people working from home, although my boss is more accepting of it than many others are. My tentative plan was to work from home in the mornings and come into the office for the afternoons.
On Friday the 13th, when my son’s karate school came through with a proposal for two week-long camps, I was literally the first to sign up — or one of the first, anyway, since all 20 spots were available when I signed Connor up.
Shortly after I hit Submit on the camp forms, my work modified their policy to allow those with childcare conflicts (and some others) to work remotely as necessary. Even so, I wasn’t upset to have signed Connor up for the all-day camp weeks — he’s a very social kid, and I knew he’d prefer to be with his karate friends than stay at home.
I still sent Connor to the Parents’ Night Out Nerf War at the karate school on Friday night, knowing full well that 1.) it probably wasn’t the best idea for avoiding contagion, but also that 2.) he wasn’t going to get much fun time with his friends in the coming weeks.
That weekend was when the gravity of the situation really started to hit. Aaron came back from the grocery store on Sunday afternoon with the news that the governor was ordering all bars and restaurants closed at 9pm, except for carry-out orders. That really took me aback, even more so than the school closure (because, really, kids are germ magnets even in the best of times).
That night, as Aaron was tucking me into bed, we made the hard decision to cancel our vacation. I had been resisting, since we weren’t in a high-risk category, since Mexico didn’t have any more reported cases than the U.S., even to the point of upgrading to more comfortable coach seats on both the flight out and the flight back. Once we decided to cancel, though, I felt a lot more at ease. I had known that cancelling was the right choice, but the traveller in me didn’t want to admit it.
On Monday morning, I dropped Connor off to his day camp, then drove in to work. Connor’s orthodontist called me that morning to cancel his scheduled evaluation that afternoon. When I went to get Connor from karate after work, the owner told me that the karate school would be closing once the evening’s classes were done. (Instead of getting a refund for the day camp, I now have enough credit on my account to cover belt testing fees for both Connor and myself for the next year or so.)
I worked from home on Tuesday morning; once Aaron was up and around, I stopped in to work to get my notebook (without which I would be lost) and a few other things I’d need for working from home for the foreseeable future.
Last week, Connor had a packet of worksheets to do, plus some online learning sites for math and reading. This week is technically Spring Break, so I’m letting him have some free time without enforcing academics. Next week, we’re back to a schedule of alternating free time and school time. I highly suspect that we’ll essentially be “homeschooling” for the rest of the school year, especially considering that the district just sent out a survey about WiFi and computer access at home.
I’m still trying to gauge how worried I should be for the health and safety of my family, especially considering that my husband’s job is considered “essential” and he can’t exactly work from home.
That’s where we stand. Working from home, schooling from home, eating at home, and trying to get some activity and sunshine once a day. Sewing fabric N-95 mask covers in my spare time, so I can feel like I’m helping.
I’m trying to be as Zen about this as I can. Flexible. Accepting. Calm. Strong.
So far, so good.