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.
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.
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