Corona Diaries: Episode 1

We’re experiencing something unprecedented. Something that we haven’t experienced in three generations and something we’ll probably (hopefully) never experience again in our lifetimes, in our children’s and their children’s’ lifetimes. I’d be doing my future self a huge disservice (and to my two girls) if I didn’t blog about this time. My parents both lived through a devastating tornado that ripped through their shared city as kids. They tell us about it, but man, could you imagine if they had journaled about it? I’d read the crap out of that.

This isn’t to discount the sickness and deaths that are happening right now. It’s serious and it should be taken that way. And I wasn’t really planning on dedicating specific posts to coronavirus on here, but it’s all that really feels like is happening around here right now. It is affecting every single aspect of our days and I realized I wanted needed to keep a record of it. I’m not even going to be sharing this on social media or anywhere else except my newsletters. Unlike many of these blog posts on here, these episodes are just for me.

We’re a week into seclusion and it feels a bit dystopian. People are still going out, spring-breakers are still spring-breaking. People are still getting manicures. As of yesterday, I guess. Businesses are shutting down like crazy. The grocery stores, gas stations, and pharmacies are open. Hospitals are overrun. Elective surgeries postponed. It’s surreal. That’s what I keep saying. It’s surreal.

As I said, it’s affecting every single aspect of each and everyone’s lives. Here are the ways my life is looking different.

My work life

Publications are pushing back non-coronavirus stories. We’re being discouraged from pitching other story ideas. Clients are halting projects as they experience lay-offs and figuring out how their staff can work from home. A new client that I was excited to work with told me they were pressing pause on any further articles. I turned in an article for a new client yesterday and I don’t know what is going to happen going forward with them. I hope I can pitch some more ideas in a few weeks.

I have one last article due by the end of this week. It is for a big media publisher and I’m being paid generously for it. I’m excited. But I have no other assignments in the works.

A job I was waiting to hear back on has gone radio silent. I want to email them and ask about the status, but that feels inconsiderate considering everything going on.

I told my therapist about this, saying I wasn’t sure if this was a blessing or a curse. I have next to no income coming in and I was expecting to come back from maternity leave with a full workload. Chris is working from home indefinitely and while I mean this with no ill-will, his job has and always will come first. Ok, there’s a bit of ill-will because I feel like my work is always something I have to work around with being at home and with the kids while he just goes to work as usual. It’s the reality of a freelancer, and it is what it is. But with him being at home, despite his willingness to help out with the kids, 90% of the day falls to me. His work has been insane with the banks and his coworkers all at home trying to figure out the same thing—how to work at home with kids and spouses.

So: blessing or curse? Is it better to be less busy with work as I just try to keep my head above water with everything else? Day-to-day that idea changes.

My kids

Olivia was on spring break this week, both from preschool and daycare. Normally, this would be a week of laziness, probably getting out to fun activities with friends. There is no schedule or routine, but that wasn’t supposed to be a bad thing. My therapist said with things being so uncertain in the future, that it’s normal right now, to be unable to feel like it’s OK to have this laziness, this lack of routine. We know next week and the week after that and the week after that is going to be one long spring break, only with nowhere to go.

There’s talk that schools are going to be closed for the rest of the year. This breaks my heart for her because she loves preschool. She loves her friends and she thrives on the routine and learning—from someone other than me. She was supposed to start her four-week dance class on Tuesday. I have the leotard and ballet shoes and I can’t think about this very long before I start to cry. For once in our lives, we have nowhere to go. And that doesn’t feel refreshing or relaxing like some of the encouraging Facebook posts are saying—it feels like hell. It’s suffocating.

Emelia, of course, knows no different. Her baby class got canceled, and I loved going back to ECFE to see the teachers that were there for Olivia and me. One more thing taken away.

I can tell Olivia is feeling the effects of her routine being disrupted. She’s been acting out, whining, pushing my buttons—all my buttons—on a daily basis. We’re trying to now establish a new routine being in and around the house all day every day. Thank God we can get outside. Two days ago, we took a walk in the rain with umbrellas. She has a cold and I felt guilty probably making it worse, but we need to get out. Every day now. No excuses. Yesterday we went to the playground, but then I saw online with the new rules we probably shouldn’t be doing any more than taking walks and playing in our own yard and driveway for the time being.

My home life

With the end coming where I will have no more foreseeable work, I’m cleaning the shit out of my house. Not that it stays clean, mind you. With a family of four and a shedding dog in the house 24/7 that’s too much to ask. But I guess it continues to give me something to do.

I know one of the things I need to be better at is getting downstairs with the kids throughout the day. I’ve been guilty at keeping us all upstairs and it’s starting to feel like the same place constantly. Which is exactly what it is. We don’t have the ability to change our scenery very much right now, so the best we can do is change floors every once in a while.

My marriage

It’s great having Chris home. It really is. I would go even more insane with these kids than I already am. And if you’re reading this Future Olivia and Emelia, Mama means well. Raising a four-year-old and a five-month-old while hardly leaving the house is not something I thought I would be doing. We all thrive with our own activities. So I know how lucky I am to have my husband’s job have the ability to work from home. Not everyone gets this and I know I shouldn’t complain.

One thing I’m seeing is the two of us not really having much to say to each other by the end of the day. Once he’s told me about his day spent sitting in front of the computer downstairs and Slacking his coworkers, there’s just not much left to talk about.

We are serious about maintaining our monthly date nights. It’s going to be different. There are no grandparents coming over to watch the kids, no fun new restaurant to go to. So we’ve decided to pick a night this month to order in and pretend we’re out.

My mental health

Sucks. There’s a weird comfort in knowing everyone in the world feels like this. When you’re frustrated at what’s going on, when you’re scared, when you’re anxious, you know—you really know—you aren’t alone. I hate the fact that I feel like I’m not really living right now. But that’s how it feels. Survival mode. There are moments I’m really angry because I’m so sick of feeling trapped in the house, and then I feel guilty because I know this is something necessary. I was really struggling in the earlier part of the week with feeling suffocated. That’s how I put it to my therapist.

“I feel like I’m suffocating.”

I was talking to her on FaceTime. The HIPAA rules have relaxed, which I’m grateful for. Her video conferencing link wasn’t working and we spent 20 minutes of our time trying to get it to work before FaceTiming. I told her I didn’t want to talk on the phone because I hadn’t seen another human’s face except for my family in six days. So we FaceTimed.

I’m seeing her later next week and told her I’d work on getting a schedule up and running (something I am not good with having an unpredictable baby who doesn’t sleep at night) and making sure we’re getting outside rain or shine (or snow god help us) no matter what.

My social life

I’m an introvert and actually really shy in groups especially. I was hoping to be over this by now, but in my mid-thirties, not much has changed since childhood. But I miss my friends. I miss my tribe, and going to appointments, and working at coffee shops and seeing my parents. Prior to having kids, I was just fine if I didn’t leave the house all day. But now? Since having them, I do better mentally if we get out. Especially if we get out to meet friends. So all this has been rough. I have a friend who is struggling medically right now and my first idea prior to the world of coronavirus would be to bring her over pizza and hang out together. Now we can’t. Olivia can’t go play with her friends. I can’t go out to meet my mom for breakfast.

I told my therapist that my calendar was turning blank at an alarming rate. Emelia’s PT has been put on hold and I’m praying it doesn’t set her back. MOPs is done. Playdates are canceled. My non-essential appointments are canceled. She told me to fill it up again.

“How?” I laughed, maybe a little bitterly.

By scheduling video chats with my friends and family, she said, and my overwhelmed self never even thought of doing that. So we all FaceTimed that night: my parents and Chris and I and the kids. Yesterday I chatted with my friend in New York whom I haven’t talked with in a long time. This is my new social life now. Through a screen. I can do this.

Things are changing, sometimes daily. The Mall Of America has closed. Restaurants and coffee shops are take out or delivery only. We try to support them as much as we financially can. A few days ago I called ahead to my favorite local coffee shop and ordered coffees for Chris and me, and cocoa for Olivia and went to pick it up, my first time out in six days.

People are taking precautions: calling ahead, limited people in the shop, maintaining a six-foot distance). I had a tearful interaction from the owner who is struggling to keep her business open as long as she’s able. She’s cleaning the shop like crazy and encouraging customers to call ahead for orders. But it’s heartbreaking, seeing small businesses trying so hard to keep their doors open during this time. ⁣
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I tipped her 100% and we both cried. ⁣

Until next week, Dear Corona Diary.