Day 49- April 30, 2020

Day 49- April 30, 2020

Today we learned about manatees.  The second graders are going to be creating slideshows next week, so this week, they are learning about preliminary research, finding books on a variety of animal topics (ocean and land animals, respectively), and searching these animals on Encyclopedia Britannica.  E. has been listing creatures she likes, but when it came to ocean animals, she got a little stuck, so she searched unusual ocean creatures.  Behold, the manatee.

For a little perspective, my sister Nicole is obsessed with manatees.  And by that I mean, literally, obsessed.  One Christmas, I "adopted" a manatee named Elsie for her, and she received a note of appreciation from Elsie, as well as a stuffed manatee that, to the best of my knowledge, still resides in her bedroom (she's 38).  Since discovering these giant sea cows exist, she made it her life's mission to go to Florida to swim with them.  A few years ago, she made it a reality, and since, has gone down a few times to revisit these majestic creatures.

I was lucky enough (sort of) to embark on one of those journeys with her.  The girls were four and five, and over February break, our parents took turns watching them while Jeff and I drove to Florida to spend a few days in Crystal River, FL.  The culmination of the trip was a 5 am shuttle to a river, where, clad in wet suits that didn't quite fit right, we jumped into freezing (in my opinion) water, and hovered with the manatees.  The smooth grey blobs ebbed and flowed with the water, and with our masks and snorkels, we bobbed along with them.  At one point, a couple of them began rising to the surface when I was above them.  Panicked, because of how many times the guide had said "do NOT touch the manatees", I froze.  Here are animals that weigh many times what I do, and I had fleeting thoughts of them rolling over me, pushing me under water where I wouldn't be able to get out.  Instead, they gently rose until I was out of the water, at which point, I rolled off of the top one, and back into the water.  My sister was in a giggle fit next to me, and I tried to smile through the mask, but was thwarted by the black plastic pipe sticking out of my mouth. 

When I told E. about our swimming with the manatees, her eyes went huge, and she offered "You can DO that?!"  I told her, yes, when she is a lot older.  In the mean time, she should continue with her research.

We had multiple Zoom meetings as well, with E.'s class (she happily showed them the greenhouse with all our plants), with her Girl Scout Troop (again showing off the greenhouse- there was a theme...) and finally with her soccer team.  Alas, because of the weather (cold, rainy, and very very windy), soccer practice was reduced to a trivia contest, tactical analysis of a goal that the trainer showed on the screen, and general catching up with friends.

The online meetings and calls are beginning to weigh on me.  Actually, the general screen time is.  I'm just not good at staring at a computer each day, and neither are my kids.  One of the hardest things is that even when the girls have worksheets I can print out for them, they still need to be on the Chrome Book to get the information to fill in said sheets.  And it's a Catch 22, because the reality is, the materials needed (books, encyclopedias) are simply only available in eBook form since libraries and schools are closed.  I'm grateful that at least the math assignments for my younger daughter can be done in the workbook she brought home.

Every now and then, there's also a project that strays away from the norm, and today that was recreating your bedroom on paper/in a diorama.  We had just cleared out a cardboard box of fruit cups, so we actually had the materials needed (this has been an issue, as one day, they needed toilet paper cardboard rolls, and it was the day after the recycling went out- oops).  E. and I measured out a piece of paper that she could insert into the box, and she drew a mostly-to-scale model of her room, complete with her bed, the American Girl Doll bed she got as a hand-me-down from a cousin, many of her stuffed animals, and her rug.  She loved making it, and I can't help but think perhaps she'll end up in real estate like her dad, helping people to buy and sell houses, and decorating the insides as a stager.  A parent can dream.

Day 48- April 29, 2020

Day 48- April 29, 2020

R. needed to create a roller coaster for her classwork today.  Nope, not kidding.  I love the idea- but she basically decided to "create" one using blankets and coats and other such items, and strew them around the living room.


I happened to be texting with a soccer mom friend of mine, trying to walk her through registering her daughter for "try outs" so that we had the correct numbers for next year.  I should mention currently, there is no try out scheduled- it was supposed to be April 25th, conflict with about half the team's First Communions, and clearly, didn't happen.  This is more so that the club knows how many people to expect, so that they can procure coaches and trainers, and then (sometime when the bans lift), we will hold tryouts to determine which team the girls should be on for the (hopefully happening) fall season.

As we finished signing her daughter up online, I asked how she was dealing, as she has her daughter (same age as E.) but then also has two very young sons.  She said she's given up on cleaning the house, because there is no point. I'm reminded of a meme about shoveling snow when the blizzard is still happening, and text her a photo of the current state of my living room (which involves the couch covered in a mix of purple and pink blankets, a mermaid tail sticking out from over the foosball table, and a precariously placed neon pink and yellow connect four set).

Her response: "believe it or not, that pic made my day.  I don't feel so alone lol"

Ratatouille

That's pretty much all of us these days.  I have a friend whose mother was staying in the apartment above hers (which she also owns and normally would rent out on Air B 'n B) when the shelter in place started, and decided to stay.  Basically, she has herself, her mom, her partner, her dog and her toddler all in the same space- and she's still losing her mind, because nothing is ever done.  She's working full time, has to take the dog on walks, has a live in person there to help (plus a spouse) and still feels like she's floundering.  It seems like no one is immune to the feelings of overwhelmed that seem to keep bubbling to the surface.

It's not easy.  I'm trying to take it one day at a time, to notice the bright spots and embrace them.  The governor is opening state parks and golf courses starting this weekend (why golf courses, I have no idea- that makes little sense to me, but the parks are a great start). Taking it day by day is working to a degree. Face chatting with a friend, I started singing "Always look on the bright side of life" from Monty Python.  We may have completely dissolved into a giggle fit- I think we're a little loopy at this point.  The whole world is a little loopy at this point.

Comfort food (food is becoming a BIG part of every day) was the name of the game for dinner, and I

Finished pizza

created an old fashioned ratatouille, sautéing onions, garlic and olive oil, then adding in cubed eggplant and zucchini.  As those softened, I diced up tomatoes, and topped everything off with spinach and a healthy dose of oregano.  Feeling like this would be a lot better on pizza than just on pasta, I quickly found a recipe, and after letting the dough rise for an hour, I commenced to flipping and spreading it out into a sturdy base on a preheated, oiled cast-iron pan.

There's a satisfaction that comes from making something from start to finish, and I've always felt that way about cooking.  Perhaps that's why I am doing so much of it in quarantine- to be able to know that I can do something to completion, when there is so much up in the air right now.

Day 47- April 28, 2020

Day 47- April 28, 2020

My back hurts.  It's from leaning over a computer for way too many hours in the morning doing work.  Normally, I'm in the library, gliding between the shelves returning books, pulling things for displays, working at the computer but doing so from a standing position behind my desk.

Now, I'm on the couch, and I'm feeling it, even with doing yoga on an almost daily basis. It's been a lot of screen time for everyone, and all I wanted to do was get outside today.  We made good on that, taking a walk on opposite sides of the street with my mother-in-law and aunt-in-law (all of us clad in our masks).  It was the first nice day in what feels like forever- here's to hoping warm weather is here to stay.

We wanted to spend some quality time "together", but the girls started whining about how much they just wanted to hug their aunt and grammy, and the tears began almost immediately.  It's so difficult, because on the one hand, we want to see our families.  But every time we do, it seems to make it a little harder, because of how not normal these interactions are.  It reminds me of when I had E., and every time R. came to the hospital to see us, she would burst into tears because she couldn't climb onto me to snuggle (after a c-section, having a squirming one and a half year old on your abdomen is not a good idea).  After two visits, we decided it would be better for Jeff to go home to see her, and me to just wait until I got home, because it seemed too traumatizing.  So after a couple of loops around Grammy's condo complex, we decided it would be better for me to take the kids home.

They were pretty good on the drive back, and then R. realized she needed to complete some schoolwork she hadn't finished earlier  (something about getting distracted by her Calvin and Hobbes book).   She scurried inside, and brought out her Chromebook, settling in on the swingset to do her research.  E. was excited to show me Mr. Groundhog (an apt name) her new "pet" who she has found in the far back of the yard, where he was trying to figure out how to get out of the fence.  She dragged me by the hand, excitedly pointing and tiptoeing as we got closer, so as not to frighten him.  He scratched at the chainlink, scurrying this way and that, and eventually figured out that his hole went underneath the shed, and out the other side, but not before we snapped a few photos of him.  E. then heard her friend calling her name from a house away, and practically flew across the yard as I yelled "Be careful to look both ways at the driveways!"  She headed down to the creek to talk to her friend L., and I could see them from my vantage point by the groundhog hole.  They stood about 25 feet away from each other, E. balancing on a fallen tree, and L. climbing one across from her. I shook my head- they are definitely going to be good friends.

I sauntered back to my book, and had just finished the chapter about the 1939 World Series when I spotted a cardinal fly across the lawn.  I put down the book, checked my phone, and it opened to Instagram, where Emily from The Indigo Girls was doing some sort of #showushowyourpractise (sic) challenge.  Just hearing her strumming her guitar reminded me of a few things.  First, how much I always wanted to learn to play guitar.  I tried in college, briefly, and even learned to play the chords to "Wonderful Tonight" at one point, but then got distracted by other things, and never continued.  Perhaps that would be a worthwhile challenge to take up.

The second was how much I enjoy listening to the Indigo Girls.  It always puts me in a place of sparkling creativity, where I want to write or sing or paint.  So I decided to "just be", tapped into the resource that is the internet, and started to play Mystery.  As the first strums of the guitar began, I listened to the breeze in the trees, noting the birds that flitted from bough to bough, and closed my eyes to better feel the sun's waning rays against my skin.  I sang along to the familiar lyrics, belting out the chorus "I could go crazy on a night like tonight/Summer's beginning to give up her fight/And every thought's a possibility."  My neighbors may think I'm nuts, but since we're all stuck in this together, I think we're all a little mad.  The song transports me back so quickly- it's remarkable how a lyric or a melody can do that.  It's warm and heavy at the same time, like the summer nights from so many years ago when everything was possible.  I continued on to listen to "Tangled Up In Blue" and headed inside to make dinner while the strains of Bob Dylan's classic (as sung by Amy and Emily) melded with my own voice.

I dance around the kitchen, singing and sautéing asparagus while the music played and the Cuisinart turned chickpeas, garlic, lemon juice and olive oil into hummus.  I made chicken for the first time in ages, since it's something we could get from Abma's Farm (a local place that delivers delicious produce, and treats their animals humanely- something I look for since I'm a vegetarian, but my kids still eat chicken).  When we get to dinner, this conversation happens:

Jeff: Where did you get the chicken?
Me: Abma's.  Popum got a delivery.
R. (horrified): But... but... Abma's kills their animals?  They have a farm!  (composes herself). Do they die of natural causes?
Jeff: If you consider not having a head anymore a natural cause, then yes.

This is how you end up with vegetarian children.

Day 46- April 27, 2020

Day 46- April 27, 2020

I have no idea what I did all day.  I mean, I know I did stuff.  I fed the kids, and set them up to do their school work.  I checked the unemployment website at 8AM, per their online instructions yesterday, only to find that my husband's time had moved to 2-3PM (great).  We received a package from home depot of thinset, so I can begin tiling the back porch (though I was a little unnerved at the packaging, which was damaged and said "Fragile: Liquid," but the contents were fine so it's all good).

There was work done for school, seeking out a free online version of To Kill A Mockingbird for a colleague and working on a website.  I interviewed for a coaching position in town, to be a JV soccer coach for a season that may not happen.  That was a wonderful distraction from the day, as I got to talk about the sport I love with a coach who clearly loves it too, and just thinking about warm, fall days stepping onto the pitch to kick the ball around put me in a good mood.

And then- then we logged on to try to handle unemployment.  This was key, because each week, you get one hour to put in the claim information so that the government can help by giving you part of the money you would normally be working if there wasn't a global pandemic going on.  I'm a smart woman.  I graduated college with high honors, got a Master's Degree, and hold a 4.0 average for a second Master's that is mostly finished.  I've run a company and taught in elite high schools.  And yet, I felt about equivalent to a hamster trying to figure out Einstein's theory of relativity.

We logged on at 2PM on the dot, expecting to be able to put in something related to the wages my husband normally earned, something akin to "enter your 1099 statement from last year" or "upload a copy of same".  But instead, it asked a few questions, which we answered, and then we received the following message:

Your claim is not payable at this time.

If you have a pending appointment or if you have appealed a disqualification and are awaiting a determination, you have been given pended credit for week-ending 04/04/2020. If a determination or an appeal decision is in your favor and no other disqualification(s) exist, you will be paid for the week claimed.

If you do not know why your claim is not payable, please call your nearest Reemployment Call Center. 

Then, we got an email that also stated "your claim is not payable at this time."  That's all well and good- he's an independent contractor, and so we expected a denial, but is that a denial?

We couldn't find the next step- everywhere we looked (emails from his realty firm, websites, news articles) all say "once you get that denial, you can apply for Pandemic Unemployment Assistance as an independent contractor"- but NO ONE SAYS HOW TO DO THAT.  All the instructions seem to involve entering that in the SAME unemployment portal.

But when we tried to do that, it tells me that "the application can't be processed because you may already have an existing claim."  Okay- so how do we get the right info put in?  Oh, call this number- the number that we are only supposed to call between 2-3 PM today (Monday) this week. But the number tells you there is higher than usual call volume, and to call on the next business day (but - again- this is supposed to be the HOUR this week when I CAN SPEAK TO SOMEONE?!  WTF?!). 

Okay, so maybe we can amend the claim.  Let me make sure that at least the direct deposit info is correct.  Only now, the message is "our records indicate that you do not have an active claim in our system"- and (yes really) to call a claims agent at the numbers that- again- tells you there is higher than usual call volume, and to call on the next business day.  That scene in Fallen Down where Michael Douglas goes off about the breakfast that just stopped being served?  I feel his pain.

I'm in an endless loop of unemployment hell.  And we're lucky, because at least my paycheck covers our food bill.  It's not covering the mortgage, which is now in forbearance (so apparently in two months, I'll somehow have that money that the pandemic is causing my husband to not earn right now- magically, the unemployment portal will start paying by then.  And unicorns and trolls will dance together in the middle of my street under a rainbow flowing with glitter and gold while the "Can't Stop The Feeling" plays).

It's been a long day.  It's been a long 46 days and counting.

Day 45- April 26, 2020

Day 45- April 26, 2020

Last night at bedtime, I introduced R. to Wagner's Ring of the Nibelung, courtesy of a boxed set of 1939 books from the Metropolitan Opera.  They were my father's before, and the covers area bit tattered as a result of over 70 years of use. When I was a little girl, he used to read them as bedtime stories, and we would watch the PBS televised version of the opera, with its belting sopranos, roaring dragon, and Valkyres.  I was enthralled.

Family love of opera dates back to my grandfather, who, according to legend, used to lie on the oak floors in the giant parlor room in their victorian house, a speaker by each ear, and blast The Ring to the point where the plaster walls shook.  The family has long been aficionados, my aunt and uncle traveling the country and world to watch the opera performed in France, Germany, and of course, at The Met in New York City.  My grandfather wasn't in love with Jean Harlow or Marilyn Monroe- he was infatuated with Kirsten Flagstad.  Above the baby grand piano at my mother's house is a pencil sketch a family friend of my grandparents created of Wagner.

This morning, R. came downstairs holding The Rhinegold, the first of the four operas in the Ring, and one I'd read the first scene from last night.  She said "I finished the first book!  Is there a video version?"

Of course, we scoured the internet.  The version I wanted her to see was from 2012, a tremendous feat of mechanics, lighting, and sound that I had been lucky enough to enjoy in person.  My husband's uncle Jimmy had been gifted two tickets by a friend of his, and he took me as my first real day out after E. was born.  I remember sitting in the audience, thrilled by the spectacle.  Alas, that version required a subscription to The Met (something I wasn't going to pay for right now, since we're still trying to get the unemployment benefits sorted), so instead, we started to explore Youtube, and finally settled on a version that seemed to hold her interest.  Considering the entire opera (all four parts) can run roughly half a day, the fact that she sat through a solid hour was encouraging, though at one point, she did turn to me and ask, "Why do they have to sing everything?!  The story would go a lot faster without the songs."  Maybe she's not quire ready for the next eleven hours of Wagner.  I'll stick to the books for the time being.

The girls spent a lot of time today playing foosball and videochatting with friends.  I'm starting to wonder if they are spending too much time doing this.  I love that they are staying connecting, but I never used to let them have screen time beyond television (and that wasn't exorbitant) and now, they are on their chromebooks all the time for schoolwork, and on the phone/chromebook to talk to people a lot.  I don't know that I would mind as much if they were just talking, but there are games and animation and loud noises, and that doesn't strike me as being the best for them, when they are already overstimulated from the schoolwork on screens.

I was going stir crazy, so I spent much of the day cooking.  There was bubbling tomato sauce on the stove, homemade bread in the breadmaker (despite setting the cord on fire, it seems to still be working fine), and I made pizza dough from scratch so that I could make my own pizza.  Sometimes, that's the comfort food that is necessary.

Jeff had to go out to get paint, but ended up stopping off at the grocery store instead because the hardware store was closing.  It was wonderful to have fresh strawberries and raspberries for the kids, but we had a bit of a fight over the actual going out portion.  We differ in our opinions about the safety of it, and while he's taking every precaution, it makes me extremely anxious.  I'd rather order everything in and wipe it down with Lysol or submerge it in water, and he feels that if we are taking precautions like masks and washing clothes when we get home, it's okay.  I think I may just be on edge because the entire world is on edge at this point.  And I'm grateful that whatever disagreements we may have (and really, this is one of the first ones in 45 days of quarantine, so I take that as a positive), I've got him here with me.  There's no one else in the world I'd rather be stuck with.

Day 44- April 25, 2020

Day 44- April 25, 2020

We met L., E's penpal today. It was a gorgeous sunny day, and warmer than is has been in a week, so much of it was spent outside. Both girls were painting (a leftover from an art assignment we didn't quite get to earlier), and trying to get the watercolors to work without dripping, when we heard peals of laughter from beyond our driveway.  I looked over the hedge, and saw our neighbors outside with the kids, so I asked Ella if she wanted to meet her penpal "in person".  She was very excited, and so we walked down the hill that separates our homes, and down to the overflow creek (which is currently dry but forms a perfect 20 foot social barrier).

She called out the little girls' name, and she and her dad and little brother A. came over to say hello.  The girls immediately started talking while her dad and I introduced ourselves, and her mom came out of the house to join us.  Ella told me later that she loved their accents (they are Australian) and the girls bonded over their mutual love of American Girl Dolls (we have two that are hand-me-downs from a former student of mine).  It was fantastic to have a real, in person conversation, and watching the little girl who seems as extraverted and energetic as my daughter made me sure they will be fast friends.  We were having a wonderful talk about the merits of American Girl Dolls when R. called down from our house, mildly hysterical.  It seems she didn't realize where we were, and couldn't find me.  I calmed her down as best I could (she's been overreacting sometimes, likely because of the isolation and change to her routines), and we were able to keep chatting for a bit before realizing we should probably head home for some lunch, and to create our "teacher appreciation" signs.

Next week is Teacher Appreciation Week, and never has that been more true than right now.  One hope I have is that this pandemic leads people to realize just how valuable teachers are, and why it is so important to have good ones.  Several times during my academic career, I've gone through contract negotiations, and been somewhat appalled at the scathing comments about teachers that have come from different communities.  I've seen people champion teachers as well, but the detractors always somehow seem louder.  Now, as parents are forced to teach their own children, and teachers are stepping up in innumerable ways to guide and lead, I see people speaking with greater regularity about how essential we are.
The girls wrote notes on the driveway to their teachers for a Teacher Appreciation video their school is putting together, largely because we didn't have the supplies to make normal signs (I don't have poster board just sitting around the house).  Their words were kind and to the point, and I'm hoping it helps their teachers to know just how much we truly value their contributions to the girls' lives.

As the day wore on, we came inside, had some dinner, and cleaned off a foosball table we got from a friend of ours.  The girls were very excited to play, spinning the little plastic men in their blue and red uniforms, and cheering as their shots headed towards the goals.  We played a few rounds with them before allowing them to take on each other.

Jeff played "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" on the piano, as the girls  girls are involved in a rousing game of foosball in the living room.  When I was little, I used to sing that song at the top of my lungs, sure that someone would hear me and I would the next little girl on the television. My older cousins encouraged my theatrics during group family vacations, and to this day tease me about my love of this song.  But it had a strong message and I loved watching Judy Garland sing it in The Wizard of Oz- she kind of looked like me, with brown hair in pigtails, and I could picture this magical wonderland where everything was bright colors and beauty.

Now, listening to the melody, I hum along and can't help but think of the other side of this pandemic- I'm hopeful for a bright, colorful world just over the rainbow.  Sure, we have to ride out this cyclone to get there, but our own backyards can provide comfort in the mean time, and we can have our adventures soon enough.

Day 43- April 24, 2020

Day 43- April 24, 2020

This morning, I woke up to a Whole Foods delivery on the front porch.

I had been scrolling through my cart yesterday, selecting a few vegetarian options for my husband, because we are running low on things we typically eat for protein, like tofu and fake turkey slices.  I've done this several times recently, possibly more than I should, but always got the same message when I went to my cart- no delivery times available.  But this time was different- it said there was delivery available tomorrow between 7-9AM, and with trembling fingers, I took it.

Another "Mom" picture- from vacation
when E. was writing on the porch

So when I woke this morning to a Ring alert on my phone that there was motion on the front porch, I knew what it had to be- our food had arrived! I pulled everything into the house, and set to work with Lysol wipes, cleaning everything and then setting it neatly into the refrigerator and freezer.

The day was relatively lazy, as it was still pretty cold out and none of us wanted to spend time outside.  Instead, I updated my "day 6 of being a mom" post for Facebook (one of those challenges that you only take when you're stuck in a quarantine).  I went through a lot of photos from vacations and sports and they made me happy, thinking about all that we have to look forward to when the lockdown ends.  I have always loved pictures, because you usually take them when you are happy, of things you want to remember.  Vacations, special occasions, get togethers with friends.  Photos transport me through space and time to moments that make me happy, and right now, I need that.

One of the photos from my
"10 Days of Being a Mom" posts- 1st day of soccer

The girls and I also spent a lot of time conversing with friends via phone and videochat after the school day ended.  Commiserating with friends is bitter sweet.  On the plus side, there's almost a normalcy to it, talking about our children, jobs, and what we are doing in our daily lives. On the negative, and I've seen several articles about this, there's a disconnect, and it can make people more depressed and anxious to see people on a screen instead of in person.  I'm going to stick with doing it, though, because for me, it makes me feel better.  

When I was younger, I loved talking on the phone- the tan one in my room, with the wire that connected it to the wall.  There were hours spent chatting with my friends from school, catching up on who liked who, what our homework was, and when we could next hang out.  It was a fine day when I got my own phone line (even if I had to share it with my sister), so that we didn't have to vie with our parents.  It was right in time for me to hit high school, and I can still remember the summer I started dating my now-husband, we would talk until the early hours of the morning.  There was a train that ran through our town- a freight train, so it wasn't frequent- but it would go by sometime around midnight, and I'd hear it down the hill from my house, and a minute later, hear it through the phone as it passed by near where my boyfriend lived.  He jokes that one of the reasons he fell in love with me was because we could talk for hours like no time had passed.

Now, the phone is a bit of a lifeline.  It's a little different- I can walk around my house with it now, untethered by that curly cord, and there's the video option.  Today, I had several "virtual" talks with friends.   Instead of laughing about boys (though our husbands did come up), we spent time going over unemployment and stimulus checks, and making sure we were getting food delivery.  We expressed our fears about when schools reopen (to send or not to send our children?), the unknown involving our jobs for the new school year, and how we are keeping our kids busy.  One of my friends is potty training her daughter, who is refusing to use her potty for pooping, and we dissolved into giggle fits about the insubordination of this little three-year-old who is adamant that she will only poop in a diaper.

I also got to see a friend- briefly- in person (from many feet away, through the front door of my house).  She has a son who is four, and I found two Lightning McQueen sleeping bags when I was cleaning out the guest room closet, so I offered them to her last week.  She then texted a few days later to say her mom had accidentally signed up for a recurring egg delivery service, and would we like a few dozen?  I added a bottle of unopened red wine and a White Claw that were left over from a holiday party (neither my husband nor I drink) to the bag o'supplies, and we made the exchange on the front porch- me leaving the sleeping bags and alcohol, and watching from the window, waving, while she replaced them with the eggs.  It was a fine trade, both of us sure we got the better deal, and
it was good to see her, if only for a minute or two, "in person".

In the evening, R. planted garbanzo beans with Daddy while Ella worked on her writing (she's composing books about animals at this point).  At the end of the night, after the kids were in bed, Jeff gathered me into a big hug (we do this a lot- it's extremely calming), and of course, our kids have radar and ran into the room, saying "I need to be in this moment!"  It's something they do pretty much every time they see Jeff and I hug, and have been doing since they were little.  It's a warm, family moment, and reminds me every time about what is most important in the world.

Day 42- April 23, 2020

Day 42- April 23, 2020


Don't Panic.  Sorry, that was the first thing I thought of when I saw "42"- which, consequently, is the answer to life, the universe, and everything.  Unfortunately, it isn't the answer to the pandemic, or quarantine, or any of the multitude of questions I have swirling in my head.  Though towels have definitely helped a bit.

Today was okay, then it wasn't, then it was back to the routine.  It's amazing how that happens- even during times of great tragedy.  We can get wrapped up in that which is normal and second nature to us, and go about our business almost in a fog of familiarity until something jars us back with this is not normal.  

We all did some schoolwork this morning.  I continue to seek out resources for my school, and today I also began working on updating my library website, to add in some of these new options for my teachers to use on an exclusive "teacher" page.

The girls went back and forth with working, and that's okay.  E. had a meeting with her class via Google Hangouts, and she was excited to see her friends and her teacher.  She was happy to share a soccer drill she created this week (we held up a computer with her doing the drill on it to the camera, so her classmates could watch.  Very innovative, if I do say so myself).

When the hangout was over, she wanted to finish her "habitat" drawing that she began on Earth Day yesterday.  We're pretty behind with math and reading and... well, everything, since with the last few days being emotionally rough, we didn't push them to finish, and instead let them play.  She took a math assessment, and while she literally knew everything (her answers on her scrap paper were all correct), she somehow managed to click some of the wrong multiple choice buttons on the computer, so her score was an 87.  When we went over it together, she pointed out the correct answers on her scrap paper, and kept saying "I don't understand- I had the right answer!"  I emailed her teacher and explained, and the teacher said not to worry, the program is difficult to use, and math assessments would normally be handled by writing the answers down.  E. was relieved (and even more so when the teacher said her score, even with the errors, would be great at an 87, but how far she has come in math this year in general is more impressive).  I'm pretty proud of my little girl- one for speaking up that she knows the material, but also for how she's gone from a kid getting pulled out for extra math help to someone who is understanding the majority of the material and excelling.

Back when she was in kindergarten, I remember the specialist telling me that her assessment in math was the oddest she'd ever seen.  She was scoring in the 80-90th percentile for some things, like comprehension, but simple things like understanding "fewer" or "sum", she was getting in the 20% range.  I mentioned at the time that I thought it could be that E. didn't understand the wording- the vocabulary- but she knew how to do math when it was in equation form.  The teacher said that was a lightbulb moment, and sure enough, once E. understood the vocabulary of math, her scores started to increase until she was on level and even beyond in some areas.

The end of the day involved R. and I taking part in a "Family Chopped Challenge" my friend Erin shared with us.  She invited a few of her friends to create a dinner dish based around a "secret" ingredient, which she revealed at 6 PM.  At 6:45, we would reconvene, and share photos of our dishes, and how they tasted, if we would make them again, etc.  It was fun to see more people on our screen, and interact with them, however briefly.  Erin's kids held up the secret ingredient, saying "PASTA!" while the rest of us moms nodded, affirming that we did indeed have pasta options in our homes.  We then signed off, and got to work.  R.'s idea was to make a pasta salad- she went through what veggies we had, and determined that chopped carrots, olives, and sundried tomatoes, plus Italian dressing.  She filled a pot of water and placed it on the stove, and I explained how she could carefully turn on the burner.  We then searched the internet for a quick bread recipe to try to make with it, and combined the flour, water, salt, and yeast into our breadmaker, and set it to mix.  I then started on chopping the brussell sprouts while R. collected the veggies to go in with the pasta.

We had one minor snafu, when I turned around and realized that the burner R. had put the water on was next to the breadmaker- and that the breadmaker cord was on fire.  Fortunately, it had just lit, and I was able to snuff it out before it was damaged in a major way (it didn't eat through the plastic all the way, and seems to be working, so hopefully we're okay on that one).  It did, however, make the room smell a bit, so we made the rest of the food with the fan on, and the windows and doors open.

The time went quickly, with me peeling the carrots, then handing them to R. to slice (again, carefully) with my mandolin.  I opened the can of olives, she found the sundried tomatoes, and I drained the pasta.  She then dumped the veggies in and mixed the lot with the dressing while I sautéed the brussell sprouts with garlic and olive oil until they were crisp.

When we reconvened, everyone was quite proud of their dishes, and Riley gleefully displayed ours, then began eating it while the rest of the "contestants" shared their results.  By the time Jeff and E. joined us for sitting down to dinner, R. was on her second helping.  Spending some one on one time with my oldest is important, and I was happy I had the time with her (especially since her dad spent the time doing a drum lesson with E., giving her Daddy-Daughter time).  Cooking is something I did a lot with my mom, and I need to do more of it with my kids.

The middle of the day was when the jarring hit.  I was finishing up researching a website when I realized that my friend's funeral was happening virtually thanks to the funeral home and church's technological prowess. They had set up a television screen next to the casket at the funeral home, and the funeral home had a camera trained on it, so you could see both on the computer screen.  There was a female clergyperson (pastor?) offering memories of my friend, and saying the "Our Father." I stood in my kitchen, barefoot and thinking how odd it was to see all this on screen, to hear the person offering words of hope from in front of an empty church, standing behind a pulpit.  And then I saw, reflected on the monitor broadcasting the pastor, my friend's husband, and her daughter, shadowy shapes but clear enough to make out.  Her daughter leaned over and half climbed into her dad's lap, her little arms wrapped around his neck.  The pain they were both in was palpable, and I did my best to control my crying, so that my own kids didn't hear it from the other rooms (I didn't want to put them through watching this).  When the pastor sang an Irish blessing song at the end of the service, I had to muffle myself with tissues.

"It's not fair" is something I've heard a lot in the last few weeks.  Things are canceled, people are missing out on graduations, weddings, giant moments in their lives that aren't what they dreamed.  But this, this is unfair.  A little girl and her brother who have to grow up without their mom.  A husband who will forever miss the bright light that was his wife.  I lost my dad when I was 19, and it still hurts.  It was too soon, and the things he missed out on pain me every day-losing a parent is something you never get over.  I hope my there is something beyond this world, something wonderful that she is now a part of.  And I'm grateful for all the days that I have with my family, that we have together.  Finding the joy in each of them is the best tribute I can give to the people who we have lost.

Day 41- April 22, 2020

Day 41- April 22, 2020


The girls got to see their grandparents today.  After breaking the news to them (as gently as we could,  through our own tears) that their friends I and J had lost their mom to cancer, the girls needed a pick me up.  Enter Grammy, Aunt M., Nana and Popum.  They all had things they needed to drop off or pick up (we've had M.'s DoSiDos and Tagalongs since the Girl Scout Cookie sale ended the week before self-isolation).

Nana and Popum got here first, dropping off donuts from a store in Montclair that is doing curbside pick up.  Their dog Abby whined from the window, wiggling her hind quarters around like a fish and trying to figure out a way to escape the car.

The "Hug Stick"

R. made a "hug stick" out of a long tree branch and some chalk (the chalk was for decorating- whoever holds the stick gets covered in purple and pink chalk, a gentle reminder to wash their hands).  The idea is that the stick keeps you at a safe distance, but each person holding the end of it is kind of giving the other a virtual hug.

This was a day where I just didn't want to do anything.  The weight of what our friends were going through with losing their mother/wife was too much, and that anxiety I've kept at bay for a long time is really bubbling.  You can only cry so much, and it's exhausting.  The kids weren't focused on school (who can blame them) and it's cold out, so most of the day was spent indoors, just trying to get through by playing with the dollhouse, some Legos, and cleaning (apparently, I clean when I'm anxious- my house should sparkle by the end of this pandemic).  I was supposed to have a group chat with my girlfriends at night, but two of them had to cancel, and dinner was running so late that the other one and I decided to reschedule for another day.  My "home" friends and I had a later meeting, but this time, only two of us were on it.  I was grateful for a familiar face, and we both commiserated about how difficult this time is on everyone.  We also agreed that what my friend's children and husband faced today puts the rest of this stuff in perspective- money is just money, a job can be replaced. The most important thing is being there for our children, and helping them to feel safe and secure.

Hoping everyone else is doing okay out there.

Day 40- April 21, 2020

Day 40- April 21, 2020

40 days and 40 nights.  It's been a long time, and getting longer.

Today, I was ready to write about the thunderstorm that took place this morning, when the house shuddered with every clap and the girls ran into the greenhouse off the sunroom so that they could look up and see the water pouring down the plastic roof.  They squealed as the water drip dropped in from one section (it's not a permanent structure), and they tiptoed around the puddle.

I was prepping to say how wonderful it was this afternoon, when we got the whole Brownie troop onto Zoom, and had a big meeting where the girls were able to write and draw about their experiences being home with their families.  Most importantly, they got to just talk to their friends, and see their faces.  They miss each other, and it's hard for a nine-year-old to grasp this stuff (even a super-smart one like my daughter.

It was also a day where I practiced facepainting on the girls, at their request.  They love a show called Miraculous Ladybug, where the main characters "transform" into superheroes based on their "miraculouses" (basically, a little tchotchke).  They wanted to be transformed by their miraculouses, so we pulled out the facepaint I had bought for R.'s birthday two years ago, and I went to work making them into BeanieBoo-inspired penguin and reindeer superheroes.

But it's also a day where I had to break the news to my daughters that our tenants (who live in the apartment above our garage) lost their dog Jiggy today.  The girls had been excited to move home when we did so last summer because we got to come home.  But the added bonus was Jiggy, a 14 years young Jack Russel Terrier who loved to play fetch with E. in the yard and run around with R.  We told them at dinner, and E's reindeer makeup ran a lot.   They lost their dogs two years ago, within three weeks of each other as both succumbed to old age, so they understand to a degree, but it doesn't make it easier.

And then after dinner came the big blow- a mom friend of mine from my daughters' old school succumbed to cancer the other night, and her husband posted the news on Facebook.  Her children were in R. and E's classes, and she was one of the first people I met when we had moved in with my mom almost three years ago.  We had her and her family over to swim, and frequently ran into them on the playground and at soccer practices, since E. and her son play for the same club.  Our daughters played on the same softball team, and I occasionally drove them to or from, depending on how she was feeling (they lived around the corner).

I knew she had been undergoing treatment for a long time, but you always hope for a miracle, and it is a legitimate tragedy that this beautiful soul had to leave her family way too soon.  She was a fighter to the end, and her kids were always her first priority.  As I read the note, I looked at Jeff, and squeaked out for him to take the girls into the other room, while I ran to the bathroom and bawled.  When I had calmed down sufficiently, I told him what had happened, and we mutually agreed to hold off on telling the kids until morning.  It's going to be hard, because I don't have any words for this kind of a tragedy.  I don't know how to make sense of it myself, and the thought of her husband and children having to deal with this new reality at any time, let alone in isolation, is gut wrenching.

When you hear truly awful news, it puts everything else in perspective. I've heard people complaining about losing jobs and money, missing hanging out and all the other things that normally are priorities in life, but let's face it.  At the end of the day, as long as we are alive and able to be with our loved ones, we will find a way through.  Losing someone shines a very bright light on how grateful I am for the "simple" things I have, my husband next to me, my kids sleeping in their rooms.  I will grieve as best I can in these weird times, attending a virtual service for this incredible woman. And that fight that she displayed- the staunch resilience and love- that will live in on her kids, her husband, and all those who knew her.  We're all better for having had her in our lives.

Day 39- April 20, 2020

Day 39- April 20, 2020

I spent this morning relearning how to use iMovie.  Last night, one of the teachers at my school had sent an email about Earth Day, something that, as a facility, we normally would celebrate with activities, curriculum geared around the environment, and wearing matching shirts we all ordered back in February.  But this year is, obviously, quite different. One of the other teachers responded, suggesting maybe I could put something together using photos of the faculty in their shirts, since I'm a "tech wiz."  Of course, I said yes, and we sent out a notice to email me a photo wearing the shirt.  I then spent the morning figuring out how to use backgrounds, music, transitions, and a running scroll across the bottom of the screen.  When it was complete, I had a video with quotes about the environment scrolling throughout, photos that transitioned nicely into each other, and a catching song (that didn't require royalties) rolling in the background.  I was quite pleased with myself.

Then, it was on to spending quality post-schoolwork time with the girls.  E. wanted to work on an assignment from her soccer coach, which was to create her own drill.  She wanted to include her favorite things: shooting and dribbling, so she came up the following: start off backwards running to a cone, then sprint forward to the ball.  Next, dribble through cones (using both feet), and take a shot.  Then, I passed in a second ball from the corner, and she one-timed a hard, drilled shot.  It took a few dry runs to get it right, but then she started to do it at speed.

What I was most proud of, though, was the E. wasn't as hard on herself as she has been, and instead, worked to improve her technique.  That said-  I felt badly, because at one point, R. tried to come out, and it was at a time when E. had just messed up a shot and knocked over a few cones, and she yelled at her sister to go inside.  R. just wanted to read and do her homework in the sunshine, but I explained that for the next 20 minutes or so, she had to just let her sister work through this, and then we could do something fun.  I suggested she hang out in the greenhouse or on the porch, that way, her sister wouldn't see her, but she would still be outside technically.

She nodded that she understood, but her eyes filled with tears, and she ran inside.  This is the part of shelter in place that is so hard- the kids start grating on each other's nerves, and there are few places for them to go.  When one wants attention (and gets it), the other one almost immediately needs attention too, and the initial seeker feels slighted.

R. got to have her own "Daddy and me" time too, so she couldn't get too upset with her sister.  She's learning to play the drums with him since she's so advanced with piano at this point.  This was her first time playing, and I'll give her credit- she's taking to it pretty well.

Once we had the solo time, I took the girls to the driveway, where they used their scooter and bike, respectively, to get some energy out.  They love being able to fly around the driveway, even though it's not terribly large.  E. and I were also looking for her new pen pal two doors down, but didn't see her outside to wave to.

And of course, after dinner, we had time to watch a family show on tv, so we chose Buddy Vs. Duff and while the girls actively root for Buddy (he's their favorite judge on Kids' Baking Championship), they had to admit that Buddy's cake-themed mini golf course was pretty impressive.  Though they still preferred Buddy's course-all nautical themed creations that actually looked like they were made out of fiberglass.

It was a relatively calm day, as blessedly are sometimes.  We just keep plodding along, and stay safe.

Day 38 - April 19, 2020

Mom and me circa 1980

Day 38 - April 19, 2020

I was challenged by a friend on Facebook to post 10 photos of what it means to be a mom, and it got me thinking about how, especially during this time, there is no job or title more important to me in the world than "Mom."

There are few things I've known in life with as much certainty as this fact: I always wanted to be a mother.I was one of those lucky kids with a mom who was a stay-at-home mommy.  She had worked up until getting pregnant, in jobs that ranged from a secretary to a pre-school teacher.  She traveled the world, following my dad to Tel Aviv for a year while he played professional basketball, embarked on cross country trips in beat up old cars with two dogs, and watched sunrises over the Grand Canyon.  But once she had me, she was a homemaker, and her children became her profession.

My mom spent many of my formative years reading with me, from The Snowy Day, The Poky Little Puppy, and countless other books that decorated my shelves (which also were frequented by dolls and stuffed animals).  She chose a pre-school literally a block from my house, so that she could walk my sister and my there every day (side note- my kids attended the same school).  There was always a homemade lunch for school, always a snack waiting when I got home.  She made dinner every night, and no matter how insane life was (or how late dad was working), she got us to sit down around the table together.

As I grew, she shuttled me from soccer games to basketball games, and even cheerleader tryouts (a low point in life, she consoled me when I didn't make the squad).  She helped me learn to apply makeup for sweet sixteens, and did my hair.  As I grew, I literally turned into her doppelganger (pictures of her in her late teens through early twenties could easily be me).  She held my hand through break ups, and was the first person I called when I got engaged.  When my dad died, she said it was my sister and me who gave her the will to keep going.  For us, it was her immeasurable strength in the face of the impossible that gave us the courage to continue.

Moving to California, I was sure to call her almost daily (a habit I continue to this day).  I flew back and surprised her for her 55th birthday, plotting with my sister and working on a scrapbook of her life to that point that contains more memories, laughs, and tears, than anything I have created before or since.

E. on her first Halloween

My stepdad gave me the option for my birthday one year to fly home for any week I chose.  I picked Mother's Day.  When I became pregnant with my first child, I videotaped her finding out (a long story, worthy of its own blog, culminating in "Holy sh*t" and excited squeals).  When my mom walked down the aisle for the second time, with my stepfather, I was happily, gleefully standing by the alter with my sister, husband, toddler, and one-month-old daughter.

Mom and I have always been close.  I wanted to emulate her in so many ways- marry my high school sweetheart, live abroad, travel across the country, learn a second language.  But most of all, I knew I wanted my own children.

I toted around baby dolls as a child (my Cabbage Patch doll Karen was my favorite, and mom made me a Halloween costume to look like her, complete with homemade blond yarn wig and stockings stuffed with white pillow fluff).  In high school, when we received the "flour baby" assignment in health class, I couldn't wait to get my hands on the doll, and rock it to sleep.

I read an  outstanding book called "Wonder Women: Sex, Power, and the Quest for Perfection".  It made me think a lot about motherhood, especially through the lens of a working woman, as it contained the line (and I'm paraphrasing) "women were told 'you can be anything', and what they heard was 'you HAVE to be EVERYTHING.'" Being a mom is tough business.

For a long time, I was an anomaly, in that I got to go out to work (as a teacher from 7:30 AM to noon), and then come home and be a stay-at-home mom, and work-from-home mom for the rest of the day.  This was unbelievably lucky, and lasted until my younger daughter was four and my older one was finishing kindergarten. I had the freedom to stay with my children, taking them on grand adventures to zoos, parks, and through the yard and house with our imaginations dictating what crazy adventure we are having.  I also got to be away from them just enough to miss them- and that they missed me.

R. when she loved wearing tutus

Then, for about two years, I worked two jobs, going from 7AM to 6 PM most days, struggling to make ends meet, and living back at my mom's house, where she took on so many of the roles she did when I was a kid, cooking snacks and greeting the girls after school.  Missing out on so much time with my daughters was one of the most difficult parts about that time.  Eventually, though, we got back on our feet, and I've spent the last year working at a job I love, where one of the biggest perks is I get out in time to pick up my daughters every single day. I get to see their faces brighten with recognition when they point me out to their teacher, and sprint over, their backpacks bouncing behind them.  They give me giant hugs, and then hold my hand, gleefully telling me about their days.

Now, with all of us in quarantine, the worst part is not seeing my mom and my mother-in-law in person, giving them hugs (and letting the girls hug them).  Fortunately, we talk daily, and video chat pretty much once a day.  The best part is that while my little ones are growing so fast, I get to spend these precious days and hours with them, working in the garden with them while they dig up worms, playing soccer in yard, and taking videos of their obstacle courses. When they get frustrated or upset about the situation we're in, I can comfort them with hugs, and say exactly what I know will brighten their moods.  I specifically made a dinner tonight with two of their favorite things (corn on the cob and stuffed mushrooms) because I knew it would get smiles.

And seeing them smile gets me through even the hardest of days.  As long as my girls are here with me, and my husband is making all of us laugh, we'll be okay.

Day 37- April 18, 2020

Day 37- April 18, 2020

The guest room pre-cleanup

Today was a cleaning day- sort of.  I say sort of because without hawk-like supervision, my daughters are not the best at putting things away.  The younger one inevitably begins to take the things that need to be put away, and instead develops an elaborate storyline for them, complete with placing them in new places (granted, more orderly places, but we now have a pet shop on her desk with all her Beanie Boos).  The older one finds a book that she's half finished with, flips it open, sprawls out, and an hour later, whines "I got dis-TRACT-ed!" when I find her oblivious to the pile of stuff she's snow-angeled into the space around her.

But I at least got the downstairs relatively clean.  Homework from the last week has been placed in or on the piano bench in the corner, area rug has been vacuumed, shelves are dusted, and the living room looks like a place I want to hang out again.  The girls eventually picked up the majority of the Legos, and I was able to vacuum the guest room and put it back together so I can clean out the closet and go through our linens tomorrow (I need to get rid of the excess so we can have space for what we actually need).

I'm glad I cleared stuff out, because one of our grocery delivery services, www.gratefulproducebox.com (who I ordered from YESTERDAY and said it would likely take up to 4 business days to arrive) showed up this morning.  I commenced with wiping down everything plastic with Lysol, submerging all fruits and veggies into water to decontaminate them, and organizing the produce into new containers.  It was mixing bowls for the pears and apples, a tray for some of the biggest mushrooms I've ever seen, and some glass Tupperware for the blueberries and blackberries.  I also started planning dinner in my head: sautéed asparagus, giant salad, leftover pizza for me, and Annie's Mac and Cheese for the kids.

One of my favorite parts of having fresh produce is that I've been buying a few things we don't normally have, like celery, since there are minimum amounts you have to spend, and there's only so much lettuce one can eat before it starts to go bad.  The celery makes me especially happy, because when I was younger, we would go to Martha's Vineyard and stay at my Aunt Dot's house, and the salads there were always a motley crew of lettuce, tomato, cucumber, carrots, and celery as the "different" ingredient.  It adds a crunchy texture and an earthy taste, and every time I have it, I flash back to those family meals on the splintering, weathered deck looking out over the bay.

The rest of the day was relatively lazy.  It was cold (again), and drizzly (also again), and we discovered Dessert Games with Duff on the Food Network Go app.  The girls may have watched more Sonny With a Chance (I think they only have an episode or two left of the series at this point), and my friend Heather came over to grab the birthday supplies for her son's birthday tomorrow.  He's turning 11, and I'm thrilled that the helium tank, balloons, and sign are being used again to make another kid happy during the lockdown.  It was also good to see one of my best friends in person (even if it was from about thirty feet apart) and talk about "normal" things like our children, and getting them to read more, and how to keep them occupied and happy.  We lost track of time until her husband texted me looking for her (she'd left the phone in the car) and questioning if I could ask her if he should start dinner.

It was good to see her.  I'm looking forward to days spent with her and her kids in one of our yards while we sit on the porch watching them.  It's the little things like that that I am missing right now.  Someday soon, this will all be a memory, and we'll go back to living like we used to.  But I do hope that the desire for closeness to the people who matter to us remains strong, and that we remember to appreciate each other a bit more.

Day 36- April 17, 2020

Day 36- April 17, 2020

I decided today that with all the online resources I'm sending my colleagues to get them through distance learning, there was another way I could help out- I could focus on something that every busy teacher tackling distance learning needs: a solid grocery delivery service.  So I spent the morning updating the Virtual Zen Den I created a few weeks ago with "alternative" supermarket options.

The first couple of weeks of shelter-in-place, my family was okay, using the food we had purchased before we went into isolation.  But then we started to run low on things like produce, juices, soy milk (things with short shelf lives).

 So I created accounts on PeaPod, Whole Foods and Instacart, placed my orders, and prepared for delivery.  But apparently, so did everyone else in my vicinity.

As a result, the Instacart delivery from Wegman's, as I wrote about here, was never delivered and canceled by Instacart after several messages about "delays".   Two days after that debacle, Whole Foods delivered an abbreviated order, complete with lemonade substituted for orange juice and missing several items.  Finally, PeaPod delivered- mostly.  We received our order on March 28, but there were two orange juices with expiration dates of February 18th, and about a third of the items we wanted were out of stock (ps- they discontinued their email customer service, when you fill out the form online, you get an email saying they don't have the staff to answer it, and when you call their customer service line, there's a message that they have extremely long wait times so call back later and it hangs up on you).

Since then? There have been ZERO available days for delivery, and frankly, I'm not going to the supermarket.  I appreciate tremendously the folks who do- the shoppers who are going out, finding whatever items people need, and carefully checking off the boxes on the list.  I'm a wiz at the grocery store, but with underlying health conditions in my family, I can't head there myself, so I'm dependent on these amazing folks, and I do my best to tip them as well as I'm financially able to.  But with the "normal" routes to supermarket delivery not working, I needed to find other options.

 I've gotten creative, checking Staples.com for snacks, ordering syrup from The Vermont Country Store, and seeking out farms in the area that deliver.  The produce delivery has been outstanding- Grateful Produce Box and Harvest to Home NJ have both delivered on or before the dates promised, WITH EVERYTHING I ordered.  I've found bakery supply stores like Baker's Authority and iherb.com.  And I figured that when you start to think about needs for teachers, being able to provide for your family and eat yourself are pretty high up there.

So I curated food stores with delivery the same way I would research options for a literary analysis paper.  Each one was tested, evaluated, and then posted with a little description of what to expect.  After adding photos for some visual interest, I emailed the new link to my colleagues. While I'm proud of my academic contributions to my school, I have to say that the emails from my co-workers related to this were the most heartfelt I've received (it may just be easier to get excited about being able to eat than an eBook about F. Scott Fitzgerald).

After work, the girls and I decided to do a little cooking.  We've been spending a lot of time watching the Food Network Go app, and have developed a love of the baking shows like Buddy vs. Duff and Spring Baking Championship.  Alas, we don't want to waste our ingredients on something that isn't healthy right now (see exhibit A above about grocery delivery), but there's one thing that's relatively healthy and fun to bake, and that's muffins.  The only issue is that my kids can not agree on flavors- E. loves blueberries, R. doesn't, and the only other fruit we had in the house was apples.  Fortunately, the oat muffin base I use works well with either, so after we whipped together the eggs, vanilla and soy milk, and then gently mixed in all the dry ingredients, we divided the batter and folded each fruit in half of it.

While the muffins were browning in the oven and causing the kitchen to smell like a bakery, the Ring app on my phone went off, and we saw that our neighbors were dropping a letter in the mailbox.  We briefly met them last week, when E. was writing "Happy Easter" on the driveway and they were headed out to try to catch the Easter Bunny who was riding around on a firetruck in town.  But since then, their daughter has written E. a couple of letterd, and E. has written back, so she has a full fledged pen pal!  The beauty of this is that their ages are a year apart, and when social distancing ends, they live one house over and the girls can walk between our yards.

E. immediately set to writing a letter back, and the rest of the day flew by (with a brief slowdown to taste the deliciousness that was our baked goods- I had a blueberry, because there is nothing like biting into a tart, fresh, still-warm blueberry muffin).

When it got later, my sister texted me that there was going to be trivia on Instagram, and did we want to be on a team with her and a few of her friends.

Several years ago, a group of teachers and I would go to Tuesday Night Trivia at a local tavern.  It was a staple in my week, and our group expanded periodically, but the constant was that we were good- we consistently won the evening, gaining gift cards for the bar, occasional t-shirts, and once, bleacher tickets to a Yankees game (I took my friend Nicole and we had a blast).  We were competitive, smart people who were strategic in our points strategies and had outstanding team names, often related to Thundercats.  It was a highlight and made me some of my best work friends.

So yes, we were in.  At 8PM, our whole family jumped onto Zoom, and happily reconnected with a bunch of people I've known for almost three decades, and their kids (my girls enjoyed making faces and waving to the other children on screen).  We all nailed the questions about Disney/Literature, did a decent job with geography and sports, and utterly failed on anything related to Tiger King.  I'll take it.  The most important part was spending time "with" friends.  That, and kicking a little butt at trivia while munching on a muffin.

After the kids were in bed, I checked my emails and the news (I'm trying to do this in brief snippets so as not to get overwhelmed).  It's important to note the "good news" going on (John Krasinski may be my favorite person working that category right now with his "Some Good News" show on Youtube), and I cried when I saw one particular report.

To understand, know that a few years ago, I had a remarkable student in my writing class, and she ended up being one of those "favorite" kids that you will remember forever.  She was funny, friends with everyone, and literally said once that her mom was her best friend (an 18-year-old girl- when I met her mom, I asked what the heck her secret was and she laughed and said "I have no idea").  One of her assignments in that class was to take a holiday memory, and make it into a children's book.  We had a very tight knit class that year, and the kids all wanted to invite their parents in for a storytime read aloud, and party right before the holiday break.  Her mom, who she looks just like, absolutely beamed as my student read a delightful rhyming story about Christmas and trying to catch Santa with her brother.

A few weeks ago, I saw a post on the town parents' board that her brother was in ICU with Coronavirus.  It was exactly the type of thing that sends me into panic attack mode, and all I could think about was my student and her family.  I kept checking back, looking for updates, and saw article links about how they were trying desperately to get him an experimental drug that was having good results, but that had recently been difficult to get a hold of because it was experimental.  His condition was getting worse, and you couldn't help but think how bad this could get.  He was airlifted from a hospital in NJ to one at UPenn, and that's when the posts started to have a hint of hope.  His fever had broken, and he was now at one of the best hospitals in the country.  But that was it- no more posts, no more articles.

Until today.  Today, in the local paper, the headline was that he was able to walk out of the hospital and go home.  Someone posted a video to the town's boys' lacrosse page, and while it's very pixelated, there he is, striding out the door and into the arms of his waiting family.  I was bawling by the end, so grateful he is okay, and so happy for my former student.  I know other people dealing with this illness- a friend's aunt, a friend down the street who is on day 30 and her three daughters- and her mom, who started showing symptoms this week, went into the hospital, but then was discharged yesterday.  It's scary, and a reminder to be careful out there, no matter what.  But this young man's story was also a reminder that there can be, and should be, hope.

Day 35- April 16, 2020

Day 35- April 16, 2020

Today the governor announced school would be closed through May 15.  We knew this was coming, and yet there's a mixture of relief and trepidation at realizing this is happening.  I understand not closing for the year- hey, something may happen where they want to drip-drop open up a bit, but I think we all know that isn't happening.  And there's a part of me that would prefer to just have the "we're closed through June 30 because it would be silly to go back and risk another spike."  People are speaking with hope about how the flattening of the curve by social distancing is working.  HOPE.  That's a really small word that packs a really big punch.

Yet there are still people who are saying "it's not that bad", that the death toll is smaller, less people are infected than other things.  And the other side is yelling back YES.  BECAUSE SOCIAL DISTANCING.

It's almost a Catch 22- if we look back and say "it wasn't that bad", was it because we socially distanced, thus stopping the spread of this disease?  Or is is because the infection rate/worst-case-scenerio rate isn't as bad as we thought?

Honestly, at this point, I don't care which is it.  I'd rather stay home, stay safe, spend another month locked in with my family either way.  As long as we stay healthy, as long as we stay safe, I'm in.  And I'm discovering new and innovative ways to order food, new recipes (and ingredient substitutions), and we're fine.  Yes, I'd love to see my friends.  Yes, I want my daughters to be able to hug their grandmothers.  But I also know what it's like to lose people close to you, so I'd rather go a few months in isolation than a lifetime without someone I love. 

Besides, there are perks to being home with my kids and my husband.  Without as many activities, the girls are discovering new hobbies, like playing with Legos, creating obstacle courses, and playing music (more on that later).  We're spending a ton of time together (we kind of have to- that's what being locked in a house does).  Tonight was another family soccer game in the yard, followed by a Mommy vs. Daddy showdown.

It was freezing, we were wearing winter coats and hats, but we still managed to move pretty well for two 41-year-old former athletes.  I prevailed 5-3, and taught the kids a valuable lesson about how we do not go easy on our spouse.  Granted, the 5th goal was because we were both tired, so rather than go one on one and try to do a move around him, I shot the ball on a rope from the other side of the field, but I was tired and didn't want to run anymore.  We still high fived, and the girls appreciated the "girl power" of Mommy's victory.

I told the girls (during dinner) how when we were first dating, we used to play whiffle ball in the back yard at Nana's house.  We also would play soccer occasionally, and had the same gym class where we were sometimes on different teams for handball or whatever other random sport we were playing.  And I never ever threw a game and let Jeff win.  Yes, he beat me sometimes, or his team did, but I'm too damn competitive to try to make a guy look good by making myself seem inferior.  As I explained to the girls, "The right person will appreciate you for you, and wouldn't want you to compromise yourself- not on the field, and not in life."

After dinner, which Jeff cleaned up (he's a fantastic partner like that- I cook the meals because I love to cook, he cleans up after dinner because I hate to clean), I went to work on a graduate course I'm taking online.  E. meanwhile decided to start writing a story about a bird with a broken wing who lands in a little girl's yard, and gets adopted by the girl and her family.  For a child who used to hate reading and never wanted to write anything, it's been incredible to watch her this last month start to discover books that she enjoys (bless the authors of the Humphrey series and  Ivy & Bean).  She sat, scribbling pencil across paper and occasionally calling out "how do you spell ______?" on the yellow velvet soft, happily lost in her own world.  Behind her, my husband and R. sang a duet of "Dream A Little Dream of Me."

R. is something of a musical genius (I'd think this even if I weren't her proud mama), and has been learning music theory since she was old enough to talk.  I know next to nothing about music, but Jeff's college degree is in music theory, and he just ingrained her with this knowledge about transposing music in her head (literally- she can figure out key changes better than some college students).  Today's lesson was on jazz, and as he worked with her on finger placement, his large hands next to her long, thin fingers, grazing the keys as they harmonized.  Her blue eyes darted across the music book, and it was remarkable to see this poised child, confidently picking out the notes and matching them with her voice.

Being holed up in the house may have some disadvantages, but seeing my kids embracing their talents and taking on family traditions like writing and playing music is encouraging.  Time goes so quickly by, and these girls, who were once chubby, cooing toddlers, are turning into tiny people before our eyes.  I'm enjoying having a front row seat.