Day 83 in 2020 (isolation blog)

The order to just plain stay home has finally been issued by our governor. Though I expected it last night, it didn't come until early today. The duration, for now, is three weeks, which is a week past when kids in our district were supposed to return to school, but I've been saying for a while now that I didn't expect them to reopen the schools again this school year. The rules seem to be changing daily, we're just trying to keep up.

Today's bright spots were a supportive, loving email from Calvin's band teacher, a message from his bassoon teacher with a creative work-around for getting reeds and music from him, and an hour-long online choir rehearsal, which Calvin tuned into from our bedroom while Jon taught an online piano lesson downstairs. I am deeply touched by the extensive effort by so many educators to connect with and help the kids usually under their care or tutelage.

Gimli likes to nap on our bed in the late afternoons, so choir rehearsal may have had an extra.

Day 82 in 2020 (isolation blog)

This weekend was to be busy. Very, very busy. Jon was to be out of town at an important annual conference, Calvin was to participate in his first ever dance competition and Dexter's annual all-band concert. For me it was to be a study in time and stress management, pulled by the needs of a young dog and a performing child, and the parent volunteer requirements of the two performance organizations of the weekend. I had mostly worked out the schedule, I had planned out the meals and the drop offs and the pick ups and even left time for laundry.

This weekend was still a study in time and stress management, but in a very different way. Setting up home work stations, organizing the pantry and freezer goods for optimization of use, and scheduling the numerous online lessons and gatherings to avoid overlapping. It's almost funny how quickly we went from an empty calendar to a very complicated one. Before isolation we had carefully scheduled Jon's lessons to overlap all of Calvin's lessons and other activities in order to maximize our time at home together. Great planning during normal times, but in isolation times, in a standard size suburban home, it doesn't work well to overlap a piano lesson and a bassoon lesson, or a piano lesson and a choir practice. 

We're getting it worked out, though, and after some calendar shifting and some reorganizing of space in our home, we are ready to ride this out sheltering in place. 

Day 81 in 2020, isolation blog day 6

I know some people are on a different day of isolation. With a distinct and rather serious lack of leadership on the federal level, and local government taking up the slack, we're all in different places, either because recommendations were different, or because we were all allowed to decide more clearly for ourselves. Several weeks ago I made what I called at the time a panic shopping trip, stocking up on shelf stables and some cleaning supplies. It took a week or two for that to seem even sane, then it went from barely sane almost straight to incredibly insightful. I've never been so sorry, yet so thankful.

When did our isolation start? Did it start when we bid our family goodbye for the last time two weeks ago? When schools closed on Thursday, or after our gathering with friends that night? When Jon officially started working from home on Monday? How about after our supposed very last trip to the grocery stores on Friday? Or was it this morning after the next very last trip to the stores when we realized we still needed a prescription, salt for the softener, and dog food. WHO FORGOT THE DOG FOOD??? (Actually, I ordered it over a week ago and promptly forgot to be concerned, but they ran out and canceled the order without warning me. Good thing I checked today, because we got the very last bag of his food on the local shelves this morning). How does one meaure isolation? 

So I'll probably stop counting days of isolation. It is, after all, a state of mind, and for as long as I have these two people I enjoy (and the dog, DON'T FORGET THE DOG or his lunch!!!), and the ability to connect virtually, how could one really call this isolation? Today, after our last trip (the last trip!) into the peril of public, and after setting up Jon's new home office and our new basement pantry and carrying in 300 pounds of salt, all four of us (DOG, TOO) went for a long hike in the chilly sunshine. We saw a lot of other family walking, all of us carefully pressing to opposite sides of the path to create social distance (except the DOGS, they met in the middle for sure), and we laughed, and griped about the misbehaving dog (DOG). Then we came home, got cozy, built a Tinker Crate printing press, and watched an Agatha Christie show while making dinner together. 

I hate this time. I love this time. I hate it. I love it.

Day 80 in 2020, isolation blog day 5

It is a new world when one doesn't feel safe going to the grocery store. That was our adventure for the day today. Do you know how hard it is to social distance in a grocery store?

But Calvin socially distanced by attending a book club, an art class, and a choir practice all from the safety of his own home. Chat apps for the win! I actually had to schedule the day, he had so many activities to attend. In some way it feels like our new normal is becoming...well...normal?

Day 79 in 2020: isolation blog day 4

Some days are good, some days are bad. Today was bad. 

Nearly two weeks ago we had a birthday party for my mom and we said goodbye with no extra umph. Last week we were concerned, but still hanging out with friends marking the closure of the schools (while the kids celebrated). A few days ago even we were helping out at the farm and making plans for our weekly beer date coming up on Friday (tomorrow). All of these events were unique, but the same in one way: they were all, unbeknownst to us, the last of their kind for at least a long while. We have not seen my parents, our friends, or my brother since those moments, no matter what plans we thought we were making at the time.

As a mother I have often lamented the sneaky finality special moments. When was the last time Calvin blew me a kiss when getting out of the car at any one of his solo activities? I can't remember. The act was so constant for what seemed like so many years I took it for granted, and it's disappearance went strangely unnoted in the moment until, one day, I realized he wasn't doing it anymore, and then I missed it horribly. If I had known the last time was to be the last time, I would have marked it somehow, savored it, committed it to memory.

This is an overly macabre reaction. With adherence to social distancing or isolating recommendations the effect we can have on the terror that is gripping our country right now can be managed, and with that luck in hand and "an abundance of caution", we will have lots more together moments in our future. But hopes (no, expectations!) for the future did not make me feel better today when I was feeling isolated and bored, plus I'd spent too much time reading the news, and the news was going in the wrong direction. 

It's only been four days, but the situation's far-reaching reality is finally hitting home. Will we be okay? Yes! Resounding yes. In fact, in the last few days we, the collective we, have adapted wonderfully. Online bassoon and piano lessons, and even Calvin's choir and book groups are going to start meeting online tomorrow. We take daily art lessons online, and we've moved our weekly wine tasting and beer dates to online chats. Then Tonight my neighborhood mom group texted to set up a "mom's night in", and it was exactly what I needed. I needed to hear that we weren't alone, but all experiencing the same things. 

My son doesn't blow me kisses anymore when I drop him off somewhere, some day he'll stop calling his affectionate goodnights, too, and right now we can't sit around a table with our extended family or friends, but these connections will replaced with something else as circumstances change, because we will find a way.