SOL20 D17 Easing into our days

We saw a little sunshine in Ohio today, so the family headed down to the Loveland Dairy Whip, our beloved soft serve ice cream place. Their walk-up window and drive-thru are still open for now. After the mile or so walk (most of it downhill), Greg realized that he'd have to head back home and get the van. Thank God! I was already dreading the walk back up the hill. 

It felt good to be out. We saw quite a few neighbors on their way to an outing social isolation style - some headed to the park, some on a walk. We saw miniature daffodils that had sprung from a neighbor's side yard. It was assuring to see that nature is still doing its thing. We came home and played basketball and then Uno sitting on the front porch. 

We're easing into our days. The boys are rediscovering Legos. Emma is still working on her room re-do: tomorrow she paints! We tried an experiment that one of the teachers posted on FB. We unearthed a never-before-used art kit. We tried to watch a Mo Willems video, but the boys started wrestling half way through and I tossed them down to the basement.

Greg and I are trying to figure out how to balance our own "stuff" with parenting (and co-parenting). Our kids are big, but they still need us so much (like, so, so much). 

I am still scared, but am also leaning into being able to slow down. And I acknowledge what a privilege that is. We can both work from home. We are not food insecure. We can use technology to keep us connected (we had a great Zoom session with my in-laws). I hate that for so many families, they don't have the same opportunities. 

#SOL20 D16 Yay for resources!

This image sums up our day. Thank goodness for all the online resources that are available to us. Between https://jarrettlerner.com/ and his resources, the unearthed Legos that Greg has been sorting for the boys, and Emma having a purpose for making a proposal to redo her room, we had a pretty good day.

And this meme just felt so apropos. I notice more grays every day. I got a hair cut last week, and though she didn't mention my "sparkles", I know the time is coming when I will be tempted to color my hair. But, now now and I'm glad for it!

SOL20 D15

I can’t stop reading. The statistics, the news reports, the projections, the predictions. I can’t stop looking at the headlines and wondering when/if the virus will reach us. How will this look?

I’m trying not to think about all the movies I’ve seen that portray a life unlike anything we’ve ever known - the Birdboxes and the Quiet Places. My mom instinct has kicked in - I want to hoard, I want to bunker, I want to do everything I can to make sure my people are safe. But how to do that when I don’t even know what safe looks like. 

I imagine it has to do with protection - how do I protect myself from the spiral of bad news. How do I protect my family from what’s unknown. How do I protect teachers from being overloaded. How do we collectively protect each other? 

Because really that’s what at the heart of this. Protection, not just ourselves, but protecting life as we know it. Which means we’re going to have live a life as we don’t know it for a little bit. And that’s really hard for all of us.

We cancelled our spring break trip today. We were going to drive to Orlando, like we've done the past 7 years. The kids are furious. With me mostly. But I know I'm just the target of all the unknowns in their life. 

I tried to introduce a routine and the kids revolted. Emma rolled her eyes so hard I think I heard them crack. She thinks getting up by 9 am is ridiculous. Jacob did that thing where his eyes well up with tears, but instead of showing his emotion, he gets mad and acts like he's not. Justin cried.

Bedtime was slow tonight. I rubbed lots of backs. Said lots of prayers. Gave long hugs. 

What else can we do?

#SOL20 D14

Day 1 of social isolation:

Send help - the boys are ready to kill each other. We have one section of the basement ceiling down due to "I tripped and fell."

My husband and I are debating whether or not our planned road trip to Orlando should go on. Status: unknown.

Daughter and I had a great day -- we bought a swim suit (in case we DO go to FL) and she would only let me in the dressing room once she chose what she liked. I was shocked at her chest. She assured me it was the padding.

Nap status: good. I got one in today. That's my strategy for health. Napping regularly.

Games played: 1 game of Clue (Harry Potter).

Tears status: 3 outbreaks. One due to game play; one due to wrestling; one due to overtiredness.

So, overall, good day.

#SOL20 D13 Should I panic yet?

I'm in a state where schools are closed. And it is bananas.

Today I went to Kroger and saw a friend I haven't seen in ages. We hugged. Then she told me she works at a hospital and I wanted to jump in a shower.

This morning I met a colleague at Starbucks. As we sat there, someone four tables back coughed and we both looked at each other.

But here's the thing. I can't live in isolation. What will I do?

Tonight we met with a family we love so dearly for our pizza night. We decided that we would be each other's people (we read about this in the Atlantic). We played Uno and talked about life. It was cathartic.

So, hold each other tightly (figuratively). And communicate. Write a bunch. And take a deep, deep breath.

#SOL20 D10 Signs of spring

I see you, spring,
peeking around the corner,
seeing if we're ready for you yet.

You didn't go too far this year.
My mums still have green at the base,
and the grass never really died this year.

But as the garage door rolled up this morning,
and the pink of the sun-kissed sky spilled in,
I could hear you
in the songs of the birds coming back home.
I could smell you in the rain-soaked grass,
the earthiness floating.
I saw you in the worms that spilled from the grass,
in the buds peeking up through the old mulch,
the first daffodils blooming.

It seems you're back,
so I'm putting away winter:
the coats, the boots, the hoping for a snow-day
(seriously? not even one this year?!).
I'm stretching my arms wide,
ready for cookouts and evenings spent on the front porch,
for birds nests, and remembering what I planted last year.

#SOL20 D9 James Taylor

When I was 16, I got my first job at the public library in the AV Dept. My job as a library page involved re-shelving videos and CDs (and the very small selection of laser discs! Remember those?).

One of the perks was that I could check things out, and I discovered all kinds of music. I went through a phase where all I listened to was 70s folk music, especially Simon & Garfunkel and James Taylor.

My mom loved James Taylor too, so she was happy when I brought his Greatest Hits CD home. Those were songs she'd listened to as a teenager. I developed such a crush on James Taylor, his piercing eyes and dark hair made me swoon. I would stare at the pictures of him from the 70s and wish that there was even one boy at my high school who looked like that.

James Taylor's music became a soundtrack for my family. One Christmas my parents gave me the James Taylor boxed set and I wore that thing out. When they dropped me off to college, I put the CD on, then watched from the window as they pulled away.

My dad and I danced to "You've Got a Friend" at my wedding (and we played "How Sweet It Is" while we cut the cake). My sweet mother-in-law gave me his Christmas album one year and I loved it.

My mom, sisters, and aunts went to a James Taylor concert a few years ago, and it felt like a throw back to the 70s, including the young couple who leaned over and offered us a pass of their joint. We declined (though I'm not sure that would have been my mom's answer in the 70s).

James Taylor was recently on Seth Myers and I'm not sure how at 71 he manages to have the same charm and swag he did when he was 20, and still when he was 50. But, I can see how he made my mom swoon, and then me. Hearing his voice, I can close my eyes and feel 17 again.

I love how music can do that. How good music can thread itself throughout your life, showing up at intervals and helping to create a mood for so much. I love how I can hear a song and be transported back to a dorm room, a dance floor, a living room.