Day 99 in 2020 (isolation day 25)

Fetch on the farm. The parks are getting too crowded.

Day 94 in 2020 (isolation day 20)

Some days are easier than others. Yesterday our governor extended our school closure, originially intended to end this coming week, to include the remainder of the school year. This school year, then, is over. No more eighth grade public school for Calvin. No rising up ceremony, no final middle school band concert.

There are pros and cons to this for us. Being homeschooled, Calvin's public school afternoons were more like a social hour for him—they had everything to do with his personal and emotional growth and little to add to his intellectual education. With that interruption removed from our day we have all kinds of extra time to spend on learning or broader enrichment. That's fantastic! I've missed spending whole days devoted to our own brand of learning, or having fun. And he is still cultivating the many relationships he developed at school through texting and chat.

The cons, of course, are the oh-so-many losses, and it's whenever I'm reminded of those that I have a bad moment, or a bad day. I find that I cannot drive somewhere by myself, or with just the dog, that is, without erupting in tears eventually. Before Corona, or B.C., Calvin and I spent a lot of time in the car together traveling from one practice to another or back again, visiting, discussing the music on the radio, or school, or practices, or rehearsals. Car rides were a special time, a very important time for our relationship. Now when I'm driving alone and listening to the same music I am struck deeply by the grief at losing not just that time together, but the events that time was leading up to, the dance competitions, the choir concerts, the eighth grade band performance. And while the music plucks at my heart strings, all the emotions bring cascading tears. Those are some of my hardest times.

But there are so many wonderful times, too, in all this, and I am trying to focus on those. If I really think about it I no longer need those car rides for connection because we have so much more family time now. And all of Calvin's groups, from choir to dance to bassoon, have found ways to connect and help Calvin continue his growth and development from home. And no matter what, all kids his age are going through the same thing right now, so there's a level of togetherness coming from this that will exist for many years to come. 

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

Day 93 in 2020 (isolation day 19)

Jon's coworker has been locked out of the office for disruptive behavior.

Day 92 in 2020 (isolation day 18)

Calvin and I ran a couple of errands this afternoon. Not the kind of errands that take you inside, but dropping things off at people's houses (some books to borrow, milk bottles—hey! We started our milk delivery again, and it turns out...I've missed it!), and while we were out we decided to get Gimli some exercise at a favorite hiking spot. Gimli is a high energy dog. He needs something more than the several-times-a-day-through-the-neighborhood walk. Before the sky fell down he was used to twice weekly nature hikes and at least twice weekly walks through town or new areas. And at the beginning of our current American Tragedy, I stuck to this schedule pretty well, but lately I've pulled into trail parking lots I was used to finding empty only to compete with umpteen other cars for a spot. The first time it happened we still went for our walk. That time the whole family was with me, and we spent most of our time dodging close encounters of the possibly virus kind. I felt like the proverbial cantankerous oldster only instead of "get off my lawn!" I was singing a chorus of "get out of my park" throughout the entire hike. 

Certainly it's wonderful that so many people are now able to take, and are interested in taking, advantage of our local nature spots. Certainly. Still, I can't help but feel that these spots weren't meant to handle quite so much foot traffic in any given day, and, certainly, they weren't created with the need to allow for appropriate social, or physical, pandemic distancing in mind. 

Today Calvin, Gimli, and I pulled into a supposedly less popular, less travelled, much smaller park only to find six other cars there. With mask recommendations from the CDC on the immediate horizon but no masks in the car, we decided to forgo the crowded hike and return home for some fetch in the backyard instead. The silver lining was finding our neighbors outside, or hanging out their windows, looking for some company. At a distance.

Day 90 in 2020 (day 14 of isolation)

That's two full weeks of isolation, though now I realize my math is off because it was actually two weeks as of Saturday. But who's counting?

Today begins our school district's scheduled spring break, which even for Calvin means a significantly lightened work load. We'll be spending the week practicing geography drawings, taking daily art classes live online, practicing dance to the videos sent by his teachers, and attending virtual choir. In all the extra free time there will be some reading, some getting outside with the dog, and some playing Animal Crossing. It's a week for being gentle with ourselves. 

Pictured here—sitting down to our live art class online only to be interrupted. Can't blame this on the pandemic, this is what homeschooling parents face on a regular basis.