Our heavy workloads had basically changed locations overnight and needed to be completed from home. Additionally, we lost our childcare. Ever tried attending a professional meeting virtually with a two year-old climbing up and down your lap 40,000 times? Exhilerating. Refreshing. Easy. And not distracting at all. Ever try doing a therapy session with someone facing gut-wrenching emotional pain while a toddler screams in the next room for Mama? Delightful. Bliss. Not guilt-inducing at all. Really professional and genuinely empathic. Plus, Jonathan lost his school. So he was suddenly home full-time. And the district was struggling (understandably) to determine requirements for homeschooling. But it was clear that parents did need to take over the responsibility for educating the kids. So I had pressure on my shoulders to keep him working toward academic goals and not get behind. During those early weeks of quarantine, Brian and I weaved work in and out of the day. Boys in and out through all of it. Puppy chaos. Normal housework. Homeschool. Brian began hoarding. Typical Freeman crap sleep. Nowhere to go. No dates. No friends. No stores. Stir all together in a pot. And voila. Covid hell. We were overwhelmed. Exhausted. Down. Everything got done somehow. But it wasn't pleasant or enjoyable. At all. Lots of fake smiles to the boys. Plenty of 'hahaha, oh you're a silly boy' comments while privately thinking 'will you leave me the eff alone for 5 seconds so I can hear myself think?' Yet Brian and I also talked proudly with endearment about how well we work as a team in crises. Through our entire marriage, when we are faced with a crisis, we pull together and kick that crisis's ass. We laugh about how it's no wonder we're good at it because our entire childhoods were riddled with crisis. We know it. We get it. We dominate it.
Nine weeks later. The world continues to suffer this chronic crisis. It's horrible. Pain and suffering is everywhere. Fear plagues the masses. It's the topic of every conversation. Every news story. Every meme. Everyone is stir crazy. But our little ole family is no longer in crisis. We are doing much better. We've adjusted to homeschooling. I decreased my workload (completed that dreadful night lecture and offloaded about 5 hours of clinic time to another psychologist). Brian and I worked out a schedule: he works in the mornings, and I get the afternoons. Anne comes and goes, so we get some date walks and picnics when she's here. We sneak in zoom dates with friends. The puppy has grown up quite a bit in nine weeks. The boys are happy and healthy. They actually love this lifestyle of having everyone home all the time. So it's better. A lot better. I still have rough days and times of discouragement. But that's normal life, with or without quarantine. Overall, life is much better in week 9 than it was in week 2 or 3. Good enough that I have the energy to document a day. So it finally happened. Day in the Life -- Covid Style.
Thursday, May 14, 2020
Homebodies:
Yours Truly (40)
Handsome Middle-Aged Hubs (40)
J (a few days shy of 8)
W (2.5)
Sandy (8.5 months)
5:00 am I roll over to sunlight peeking through the windows and Brian scrolling though his phone next to me. I check the time. Praise the Lord on High, we all four slept through the night! Oh my God, it's a miracle! A much needed miracle, as sleep is a precious commodity around here that doesn't happen regularly. Wow I feel great. It's amazing what sleep does to a person's well-being. B and I chat for a second, and I release Sandy from our bathroom. She's been pretty good about heading straight downstairs. But for some reason today, she is possessed. And does a flying leap onto the bed, right into my empty spot. She turns her head back and side-looks me while smile-panting, like whatcha gonna do about it? I am flabbergasted and horrified. Brian is laughing. I'm laughing in disbelief while trying to shoo her off the bed. Sick dog hair everywhere. I wasn't planning to do laundry today, but now I suppose that will be added to the list. I finally get her furry butt down, and we head downstairs. Brew a cup of coffee in the luxury coffee pot B just got me for Mother's Day. Absolutely delicious. The foam on top is scrumptious. And the best part is that it's quick and easy. Yes. The perfect way to start the day. Head outside for my morning walkabout. I love this morning ritual. I meander around the yard, checking on all the plants. They are growing nicely and filling in. I love seeing new growth on so many of them, and I couldn't be more pleased with how the design is coming together. Sandy needs minimal attention, and we mind our own business out there. Perfect.
6:00 am Head back inside, refreshed from this early morning me-time. B is at the counter and explains he is making idols. Hmmkay. Whatever makes you happy, my darling. Little did he know that this whittling idol wizard thing would turn into a phallic multi-comment thread on FB. Hehe. I start the chocolate oatmeal. I am disgusted by the fridge. It's overloaded. Completely disorganized. Yuck. Pet Sandy and speak dog language. You're beautiful. You're gorgeous. You're stunning. Absolutely glamorous. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Now be good doggie. Tank you.
6:20 am Both boys are up. Jonathan comes down, hair all ruffled, cheeks red, eyes puffy. I could eat him he's so adorable. I get William from his crib. He is so squishy, I can't stand it. I kiss his soft squishy cheeks practically off. He laughs and squirms. Downstairs for chocolate oatmeal. And antibiotics for an infected bee sting on J's hand. Poor thing was a trooper! Over brekkie, J randomly asks if I had a Cabbage Patch Kid when I was growing up. Yes! Yes I did! I am instantly brought back to childhood, the giddy joy of toys. Brian had one too, and his nostalgic joy also beams through. Somehow the conversation turns to memories of the Cabbage Patch riots of 1983. Jonathan, when Cabbage Patch Kids first came out, it was before the internet existed. Can you imagine that? Having no internet? Yeah, so the only way we knew what new toys were available was to watch cartoons on Saturday mornings. Everyone watched cartoons like Muppet Babies and Smurfs and Care Bears. And there were commercials every few minutes. Like ads. Ads for toys and cereal. And Pop Tarts. And that's how all the kids learned about what toys were out. And if your parents said you could get a toy, you had to go to the toy store. You couldn't order anything online or have it delivered. You had to go into the store. And when Cabbage Patch Kids were released, everyone wanted them. Like everyone! And fights broke out in the stores because people were beating each other up over the Cabbage Patch Kids. But no one had phones with them. And no one had cameras to video the fights. So the only videos we got to see of these fights was footage captured by news trucks. Yes, that's right. Trucks with giant video cameras had to drive to the toy stores, video tape the fights, and then play the videos on the news. There was no YouTube. If we wanted to see what happened in the world that day, we had to watch the news at 5:30 that night. With Tom Brokaw. Or Dan Rather.
Through all this, J's mouth is agape. His eyes are slightly glazed. He seems to be attempting to process. But it's a slow-motion process. Like he's listening to a foreign language and catching every fifth word. Brian and I are chuckling through the whole thing. The words seem to just fly out. I'm not really thinking or putting any effort into remembering. The words just fly out. And with each subsequent word, I am increasingly amused by how ancient this whole thing sounds. Prehistoric really. I am like an Alzheimer's patient who can't bumble out anything but mush words pertaining to today. But get me talking about life in the 1800s or singing an old hymn? And those neuropathways are wiiiiiiiide open. By the end, I am laughing at how old this is. <side note: as I write this up the next day, I am literally cracking up>
7:00 am I get J going with some schoolwork for the day. He is such a great sport about homeschooling. He has not complained once about anything covid-related. I am not even close to kidding. Not one complaint. Just does his work, enjoys it, moves on, no biggie. Great sport. His reading topic for the day is money, which he finds fascinating. I am cleaning the kitchen through this. William is working on a garbage truck with intermittent vacuuming. Brian is getting himself ready for the day. Throughout all this, I'm looking over J's shoulder. His reading stuff is really cool. There's a game about spending Bill Gates' money. We chat about money. William is outside at some point, getting his dig on. Jonathan is voluntarily playing piano in there too, which is an awesome benefit of quarantine. No piano lessons equals kid loving piano. He and I also do a weird foot machine thing and giggle together.
8:00 am I continue to straighten the house and clean. Loving my new vacuum. B got it for me as a gift. Since it was pre-Mother's Day, it's perfect. If it had been specifically for Mother's Day, it would have been a chauvinist pig move. But I really love it. I get laundry going, thank you Sandy for jumping in the bed. The laundry situation has gotten worse lately. We're up to about 4 loads per week now. As I'm preparing the laundry, I notice the clean laundry waiting to be folded. Three loads. Omg. I'm not usually behind with this task, but the past few days did not leave me with the energy to deal with them. Add that to today's list. While upstairs, William finds a penny. We talk about money and piggy banks. He's been dying to play with a ninja turtle piggy bank on his shelf. I haven't let him because it's glass. But this seems like the time. I let him have it. He is so proud of himself and excited to put that shiny penny through the slot. He gasps. Not surprisingly, he wants to bring the bank downstairs and play with it. I hem and haw and don't really want that. But I decide whatever. He can probably handle it. We talk about how it's glass. If it falls on the ground, it will break. So you need to hold it carefully, with two hands. Ok? Ok Mama. Ok, you can be careful with it? Yes Mama. I hode it like dis. Ok. You can hold it. I will vacuum your room quickly and be downstairs with laundry in just a minute. Thirty seconds later, J is motioning me to stop vacuuming. Explains W broke the bank, and there's glass everywhere.
I head downstairs to a hysterical toddler. Brian is shuffling glass shards into a pile on the floor. Trying to reassure W. But W is bawling. My nasty instinct is to bust into an 'I told you so' type of thing. But I don't have the heart. He is crushed. He doesn't see it as his fault, but he's crushed. And he's two. Maybe for your birthday, you can ask for a new piggy bank, sweetheart. No I want dis one! I want it! Well, it's not safe to play with broken glass. This one is done. But I want it! Waaaaa! I want it! Well, maybe a new one for your birthday. At some point, I glance to my side. I see J sitting in the fort, tears welled up in his eyes. Oh melt my heart into a pile of goo. It was actually his piggy bank first. And he gave it to William. He's always been tenderhearted and sentimental. He is sad about the bank, all the memories of it. And he's sad for his brother. All four of us are group hugging. Reminiscing about the ninja turtle phase. Consoling W. Consoling J. J recovers quickly. Runs upstairs and returns with his new piggy bank. Dumps out coins and begins a tutorial for W about the various coins. So precious. Brotherly love. And also apropos to the homeschool daily topic.
9:00 am We regroup after the bank incident of 8:00. J resumes more homeschool work. W resumes his toddler life. I continue cleaning and straightening. I decide I've had it with a nasty old wool blanket that Brian adores. It is covered in dog hair and impossible to wash. I lay it flat on the ground and attempt to de-hair it with my new vacuum. Behold! It works! Ooo I love this machine! The boys join me in the fun, running and jumping on the blanket while I gleefully watch those dog hairs get sucked up. Once the battery dies, we head downstairs. I empty the vacuum canister with a giddy sense of disgust. Oh.my.gawd. We were living in that filth. I announce to B that his allergies might improve due to removing this sickness. The boys snack on pistachios. Brian is in and out of his office. At some point, he takes William to the grove to pick lemons.
10:30 am It's time for Jonathan's weekly zoom class. Nothing academic. Just an hour to see his teacher and classmates. He loves his teacher, as do Brian and I. She is so sweet and patient. A kind voice. Someone who makes all the kids feel special and loved. The kind of teacher we want him to always have. She is so cute. All the kids are logged in and bouncing around like maniacs. J is muted and sitting quietly, William by his side, shyly waving hi and smiling at the big kids. Mrs. Lukens starts their time by announcing that Jonathan's birthday is on Monday, and let's all sing Happy Birthday to him! They all sing, out of tune, broken connections, chaotic crazy time, with J beaming from ear to ear. It is precious, and I love that she thought to do that for him. Soon afterward, I shamelessly use this time as a babysitter. Run upstairs to get myself cleaned up for the day. Ahhh. A nice peaceful and quiet shower. Minimal painting of the barn. Thank you, covid. Actually, I began going without foundation at the new year, several months pre-covid. And I'm delighted by this more simplistic routine.
11:30 am Back downstairs. Boys back outside. B in his office. I put away the produce and am pleased with the much improved fridge. Get a plate of lunch and head outside. The boys are digging and running around. Riding scooters. Free play. The weather couldn't be any more perfect. Very mild for May. Maybe low 70s? With a light breeze. At some point, I go for a few scooter rides myself. On the third or fourth scoot, I let out an unrestrained weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! And hear a deep, booming "HI" from my right. Wut? Huh? Omg. It's hot pool guy. He really is hot. But more than hot, it cracks me up every Thursday that both Brian and I refer to him as hot pool guy. Haha. Anyway, hot pool guy and I chat for a few minutes while he does his hot cleaning moves. He chats with the boys too.
1:00 pm Inside. Get J back into more schoolwork. Get W upstairs for happy nappy. He's recently discovered Berenstain Bears, which is so cute and also reminiscent of the toddler years with J. Giggles. Tickles. Chats about the morning play time. Mama song. Covers. Hode your hand one minute? Yes sweetheart. Ok Mama loves you. Night night sweet baby. Downstairs to B and J in the kitchen. Snacks of apple and green chips. B has returned from the mailbox with an envelope he tosses on the counter exclaiming it's creepy. I open it up. Ooo! Cult pamphlets! I find cults fascinating! Only once have I interacted with cult members, but I would love to meet more of these fascinating people. So interesting. But B is super creeped out and doesn't find it funny at all. I switch over the laundry and get J started with a Homeschool Hotdog video. He decides his content for this video will be about online manners, which I think is absolutely perfect. Make the video within a couple minutes. I crack up. Homeschool Hotdog is seriously one of the best things to come out of covid-19 quarantine. Hilarious. Get him started on some happy nappy reading, Junie B Jones. Bid my love adieu, and head upstairs for my afternoon work time.
1:30 pm With this being the first week of summer school, email is nice and light. Catch up on that quickly. Submit a new draft of rubrics to the bridging committee, hoping this is the last of it. I'm ready to be done with that project. Catch up on therapy notes and sign off on hours.
2:00 pm First supervision session. After nine weeks of telehealth, this doesn't feel weird anymore. Process a termination session the therapist had during the week. Strange to terminate due to the client moving out of state. We're already meeting virtually. What difference does it make if the client and therapist are in different states? But the law is the law. Second supervision session. Her connection is always a bit patchy. Blurry video and audio cuts out several times. I could do without that. Process a client's growth process related to a sexual trauma. A particularly violent and brutal trauma. Ugh, this world is horrid and dark. But healing is on the horizon. Complete my supervision notes.
4:00 pm The house has been smelling increasingly like garlic. Mmmm. Back downstairs. B has his hot husband thing happening in the kitchen, cooking up a storm. He's extra hot today because the kitchen is still in tact. When the kitchen gets destroyed by his cooking, and he leaves it for me to clean up, he loses points in the hotness department. But this is nice. While I was working, Maddie has arrived for the first time in nine weeks. She is playing with the boys outside. Their shrieks and laughs make us chuckle. It feels like old times to have her here. There's risk in having a new human being in our home, but this is a calculated risk. It is wonderful and worth it. Brian's dinner delight is ready. We decide to eat by ourselves and let the chaos stay outside. We gobble up his bbq tofu sammies with golden beets and chat about the day.
5:00 pm It's time for Maddie to leave. B and I wrap up our lovely at-home mid-week dinner date. I chat with Maddie for a while before she goes. She's so cute and sweet. Such a bubbly personality. The type of girl we hope the boys choose someday. Just darling. And wonderful to have her back around. We're all ready for it. And the boys are ready to eat. She leaves, and the boys eat random mishmash hodge podge plates of I don't know what, and I'm sick and tired of serving 8 meals everyday for the past 9 weeks. I mean, I didn't cook tonight, so I shouldn't mind getting the boys fed. But I do mind. I'm sick of it. Whatever. They eat. And it's healthy. And they like it all. Success. At some point in there, William randomly exclaims 'you can do it, Mamacita!' We all bust out laughing. Where did that come from? Funny boy. After dinner, it's screen time for the boys. J bursts with almost-8-year-old joy at jumping online with his buddies. They have worked out a system for FB video messaging while playing Fortnite together. Aiden, Ashton, a couple others, and Jonathan. There's yelling to come get me! Here, here! No, let me level up! And also giggly little boy laughter to the point of tears. I love it. So much. They actually get along better playing these games than they do in person. Thank you, covid.
6:00 pm The wyld boys all head upstairs for bath time. I do my downstairs clean-up ritual. Sparkling water in a wine glass. Gotta be fancy. Michael Bublee. Gotta be sexy. Dishes. Counters. Floors. Done. Heave-ho the laundry upstairs. W insists Mama washes his hair. It's been a while, so I enjoy it. Soapy bubbly clean baby. All bundled up in a towel and cute as ever. J gets his manly shower. I miss the days of him taking baths. It's been so long since I washed his hair, I don't even remember the last time. I am sad about missing his babyhood but absolutely love the young man he is becoming. They're both clean and in jammies. Their hair all wet and spiked up all messy. So perfect. But what's not perfect is those massive bins of clean laundry begging to be folded. B and I start on the mountains. William is really into helping lately. Especially loves to help with laundry. He begs incessantly to help. I hand him items to drop off in other rooms. Here, take this one to Aunt Anne's room. Four seconds later, he's back. Ok I help more, Mama! Omg you're fast. Hmm. Lemme find something else. Ok here, can you take this to JDub's room? Just drop it on the floor in there. Thank you! Three seconds later, he's back. Ok Mama, I wanna help some MORE! I want to encourage and reinforce all this helpfulness. But I also don't want a two year-old throwing 800 pieces of clean clothes all over the floor. Balance, people. Balance. Finally get everything folded and put away, clean sheets on boys' beds. Plus everything smells so nice and fresh. Ahhh so nice. Can't wait to do this again in two days. Pause. Not.
7:00 pm Time for books and chats. William wants a Kipper book. Really cute. Afterward, he goes back through all the text, pointing out letters and lines. What dis pell? What dis pell, Mama? I don't want to re-read the whole thing, but he's so darn cute. He uses my arm like a slide, running his hand down my arm. Weeeee ... boink. Weeeee ... boink. He runs across the hall to say night night to J and Daddy. I do my countdown for him. I love his little sprint and toddler thump footprints. And gleeful return. Get him tucked in. For the first time. Mama will be back to check on you, sweetheart. I'll send Daddy in too. Brian and JDub are having a lively chat tonight. Nothing out of the ordinary. Laughs and gasps. I can only imagine what is being discussed in there. Take a few minutes to wash my face. Brush teeth. Jammies. Homestretch. Brian has completed both his chats and goodnights. I quick chat with J. He's really growing up. Not a baby at all anymore. But I still kiss his face. And we do our secret handshake/blow a kiss routine. Night night sweetheart. Mama loves you. Across the hall to W. I am ready to sit down. But W is ready to chat it up all night. Non-stop chatter. Interrupt. Mama needs to sing now, ok? Don't talk, Mama, I'm talking to you. Wut? The irony. I am baffled just enough to be amused. He begins reliving the broken ninja turtle bank fiasco of the morning. It comes out a bit jumbled, but he does retell the entire thing. Completes the story with 'my dad will get me a new one.' Huh? Since when is it Dad? And not Daddy? The two year-old is done with Daddy? Whatever. It's cute, and I'm tired. But he's still going. I have a great idea, Mama! We can tell David and Linda and Isaac and Connor to watch me get a haircut in the gwove! Haha! I have absolutely no clue where this one came from. Ok sweetheart. That is a great idea. We'll talk about it more tomorrow. Mama loves you. I'll make sure your light comes off. And check on me? Yes, and I'll check on you. Love you. Night night.
8:00 pm Into the loft. B and I let out our simultaneous nightly statement ... We made it. Ahhhhh. Relief. We take our perches on the couch and floor. Begin scrolling. We catch up on social media. Share the day's memes and laugh. Chat some about the day. Get the nightly covid news update going. People still dying. Masks everywhere. Unemployment skyrocketing. I feel awful to be getting somewhat desensitized. But it is awful. Sandy is happily chewing a bone. She's been so good. I do threaten to let her sleep with the coyotes sometimes. But for a puppy, she's really very good. Perfectly content with this bone and going to town on it.
8:30 pm The peace and quiet is interrupted by W. Crying for mama. I heave myself off the couch, as if I need to peel it from my body. Walk lead-footed into his room. The light turned on and cared me. He's pointing to the smoke detector. Oh, it's ok sweet baby. It's just the smoke detector. But it will get me. No, no. Mama and Daddy are always here to make sure nothing gets you. It's ok. Mama loves you. Night night. He's settled. Back to the couch. A few more minutes before my eyelids are getting heavy. We call it a night.
9:15 pm We make a deal that Brian will potty Sandy, and I will put the clean sheets on our bed. Final hygiene things and crawl into a nice clean bed. I feel my body sinking in. I wonder when I first started noticing that lovely sink into bed thing. Kids don't notice it. Or even have it? Just middle-agers? I don't know. But it's a sign of a full day that's come to an end. B and I chat for a few more minutes. Pillow talk and sweet nothings. Pray. And night night.
I drift off to neverland with a tired body and full heart. As always, intentionally documenting the mundane details of life highlights how much I love my life. I love my family so much it hurts. And these boys are growing and changing before our very eyes. I want to soak it all in. Well, not all. There is plenty that I don't want to soak in. But the good stuff is really good. Today turned out to be a great day for documenting. Very typical during this extremely unusual time in world history. Pretty low-key and slow-paced. Got some work done. Minimal socialization. Sandy and I missed our walk, but we'll live. Boys had fun. We all had fun. We're making the most of the quarantine. William won't remember these days. But Jonathan will. I hope he remembers fun stuff about being at home. Lots of family time. And with so much suffering and fear in the world right now, I have extra appreciation and gratitude for our health and well-being. We are not guaranteed health in this life. So when we have it, it's time to put it to good use and enjoy it. Not sure what the future holds, but I hope and pray the future involves many more fun memories with my favorites. Alright, peace out from week 9.
<side note: while preparing the photos for this installment of DITL, my computer randomly opened up to this from 2015, which killed me.
