Corona Diaries: Episode 5

It’s been five weeks since my last confession/dissection of shelter-in-place-covid-hell taking place on this blog. We got an early spring here in Minnesota and that’s been a huge silver lining because we were able to be outside in the nice weather. And it’s been beautiful. We’ve had some hot humid days, but overall, it’s been in the high 60s/lower 80s for the most part.

In my last episode, I talked about the white supremacists COVID protestors that Trump beamed at and called “good people.” A different sort of protest took place this past month, only it was more important than the ability to get your hair cut in a salon and not have to wear a mask because it was your constitutional right. Oh, and Trump certainly wasn’t encouraging of these. In fact, these “thugs” as he called them were protesting the murder of George Floyd by the hands of the Minneapolis police and threatened to deploy active troops to police the streets. There have been some changes in the area of racial justice, but there’s a lot more to do. And there’s been a lot of ugliness on social media. I found out I have a lot of friends and family who want to see change and justice and some who don’t and it’s been a mixed bag of emotions. In fact, May as a whole was kind of just a shit month, for a lot of people.

But since this is corona-focused, let’s talk about that. We’re opening up more and more every day. Restaurants are now serving outdoors, and very recently, beginning to serve indoors with 25% capacity. Gyms are now open with restrictions in place. Hair salons and bars—same thing. I’m not comfortable yet doing any of those, since I’ve been seeing in other states who opened earlier the surges in COVID. Churches are starting to open, too, but honestly, I’m good worshipping from the safety of my couch on Sunday mornings. We’ll see how the public does first.

I’m wearing my mask out in public, Chris too. Olivia hasn’t been to a store, and I’m still hesitant to do that, but I’m sure we’ll be doing it soon. I’m getting used to the mask and it helps to see others wearing theirs. I went to return a romper to a store (a Trendsend purchase that was too big) and wore the mask without issues. Trader Joe’s was next door and 95% of people were in masks. I felt some normalcy. It was amazing even if it was a little bit weird.

As far as the day-to-day, the schedule that I had started out with a few weeks into SIP went out the window. Eventually, Olivia flat out refused to do any sort of learning/homework, even her coveted ABC Mouse. I had a cleaning schedule for myself and that petered out too.

It’s been one big free for all around here.

But I have gotten together with my mom every Friday like we used to. Olivia and I saw our friends at a park for a picnic—it was the first time she’s played with another kid in 2.5 months. I texted Chris that I hadn’t seen her this happy since the orders went in place. We’ve also walked to the park a lot of evenings and use sanitizer afterward. All these things we’ve all missed. Last Sunday we went to a beach as a family and while many of the other kids didn’t physically distance, it worked out pretty well. It made me realize we really need to get some normalcy back, and the best way to do that is getting out for picnics and beaches on the weekends for sure.

Olivia’s behavior has been steadily worsening over the last month. Her major tantrums which she used to have periodically were coming almost daily. Fierce, loud, destructive ones where I started thinking she may very well be possessed. The other times were reserved for the most outrageous rudeness and attitude. My sweet girl, feisty as she was, was becoming someone I didn’t recognize. She’s an extrovert, she loves her friends and thrives off the energy in the room. She always has. And this isolation has screwed her up. I know kids are resilient and it’s a good thing they are. She’ll get through this and be fine, but it’s taking a toll. It doesn’t help my patience level is at 25% at what it was. Starting out with very little patience every morning means by 10 0r 11:00 she’s already gotten me fed up with her. And that’s not fair to her. She needs a mom who can parent firmly, keep her cool, and manage the expectations. And I’m not that parent anymore. I don’t feel like a good mom and I don’t say that to be dramatic so people can come on here and say Nooooo Risa! You’re such a good mom, don’t beat yourself up!

I’m a mom that makes sure the kids are fed and bathed (for the most part) and don’t get sunburned or crash down the stairs. But the depression I haven’t dealt with since nursing school is back. Not creeping back like it was five weeks ago, but here. I know I should go on meds. It’s bad. Not like suicidal bad, but there are a lot more negative feelings and thoughts inside me than positives ones.

See, I figured it out. I was getting “breaks” here and there while Chris took the kids into his office for a while so I could work. I had time in the evening after they went to bed. But it wasn’t cutting it. I never had a chance to fully fill my cup in months and it’s showing. In fact, I remember during one of Olivia’s spectacular episodes of rudeness when we were outside and I had just yelled at her, Chris came out with the baby.

“I just want to get away from everyone,” I ranted, throwing my hands up, “I want a night to myself in a hotel and I don’t care if I have to bring the baby to nurse her, but I just want to be alone for one goddamn night.” But of course, the hotels are closed for this fucking virus and that’s not an option.

So Olivia started back at daycare this week. We had a lot of setbacks with it, with both Chris and I having the virus in the form of covid toes. I don’t actually have a photo of what our toes looked like, and mine didn’t get as visually bad as Chris’s, but mine went into my fingers and even up my calf with the itching and burning if I didn’t have those areas covered. It’s hard to see, but this was the day I called the doctor to get tested, as there was blotchiness on my calves. It started with me on Mother’s Day, and lasted… a week and a half I think? before my symptoms disappeared. I had a little heavier breathing, where my chest felt tighter, but that was it. Chris’s lasted longer, and his symptoms started about 7 weeks ago or so.

 

So of course we tested negative and I don’t put a lot of stock in these tests, but because of all it, daycare was delayed with when she could go back. Which I totally get and am on board for keeping everyone else safe. It just makes me mad because we were some of the most isolated people you’d ever meet and STILL, we got it. The kids didn’t show any symptoms at all which I’m grateful for.

But yeah, that anger, it was intense. Feeling myself spiral, watching my daughter mentally and emotionally suffer from the isolation and then seeing other people just resuming life as normal far earlier than us, or let’s be honest, never even bothered to change their lifestyle at all—yeah, there’s a lot of anger there. Misdirected, of course, because I did this to myself. I chose this. I chose to keep us isolated and following the orders and I spiraled and others are just fucking fine.

So then I thought, screw it. If everyone else isn’t caring anymore then why should I? It was a turning point where I realized my mental health was important too. Daycare is, of course, a risk. (Though honestly, my family has been exposed so really, we should all have some sort of immunity however long that lasts.) Playdates with a friend is a risk. I’m starting to balance my mental health with my physical health. I’m saying no to non-essential shopping trips, restaurants, playdates with multiple kids, but I’m saying yes to seeing my mom. Yes to daycare. Yes to playdates periodically. There’s a balance, but I’m already seeing the changes.

Olivia went back this week to daycare and while she was initially teary the night before (from basically never leaving our side in months), she did awesome and played with her friends. And I got a day to myself. With the baby of course, but the baby was nothing. I did some decluttering of Olivia’s toys that I hadn’t been able to do. I blogged. I did the laundry. There was nothing spectacular, but I feel it mentally. Because then the next day, when Olivia continued to back-talk and tantrum, I was able to power through it like a responsible parent. I kept my cool. I felt clearer. Daycare was the freaking best decision I made in a long time. So I think this will be OK.