A Mom’s Guide to the Stages of Quarantine Continued
Oh hey, it’s me again. Still home, following guidelines because I’m not an expert, a doctor, or a total lunatic (well that last one is debatable at this point).
Week 4-6: Ritual burnings and perpetual snacking
2020 calendars have been burned, along with schedules, summer plans and bathroom scales. Virtual everything sucks: school, happy hours, and meetings. Many have gotten creative with social distancing. Moms gather in trunks of minivans circled around Target parking lots, trying to find our center of gravity.
We limit our news, social media, and Twitter intake—like the price of toilet paper, it can be too absurd to fathom.
Small discoveries are being made—eyebrows don’t really need to be plucked, global warming has been momentarily paused, and no one is actually saving money because online shopping still exists. Grocery bills account for 110% of paychecks, for those lucky enough to still have them, because our children ask for snacks every time someone in the household blinks.
Many extroverts have crawled out of their skin and introverts are happily volunteering to crochet the sheddings into face masks for everyone.
Like sourdough starter kits, Zoom has lost its allure.
Week 7-8: You first, I insist
Somehow a public health emergency has been politicized. People seem to be confusing the economy with a giant wheel run by a single hamster, instead of actual human beings.
True colors are flying everywhere.
Some places are starting to dip their toe back into society. Don’t worry everyone, golf is back! Photographs emerge of certain states treating social distancing like a rave, only with less ecstasy and more mullets. In that vein, “The Tiger King” is getting his own clothing line.
People are starting to itch and twitch. We no longer post memes about nervous breakdowns—every day our homes look like an open casting call for “American Horror Story”.
Tik-Tok has taken hold of the internet and the only thing funnier than watching clips of ex-Bachelorette contestants “dancing” is trying to explain the premise of the app to our grandparent’s generation.
The Egyptians left hieroglyphics; we have Randy Rainbow.
Week 9-Current: Misdirected anger and puppies for all
Since we cannot direct rage towards an “infective agent that consists of a nucleic acid molecule in a protein coat”, many still in lockdown, have turned on anyone helping and attempting to save lives. Fury mimics a false sense of productivity.
Virtual learning is being proposed again for the Fall, with parents being the last to hear, since we all stopped opening emails and lesson plans from schools around week 4. Parents have opted to direct pent-up anger towards Common Core Math--a much more justifiable cause for frustration, than say, being asked to wear a mask in public.
Animal shelters are now empty, because every guinea pig, kitten, and 3-legged dog have been adopted. Moms are so shell-shocked, they have deceived themselves into believing a puppy is the answer to quarantine.
Scientists worry about repopulation because no household already containing children have attempted sex, for fear of procreation.
The Freshman 15 has nothing on the COVID 19.
Children now have fears of: other children, leaving the house, and their parents as their teachers. Luckily kids are known for their resiliency and our hope is they will look back fondly on all of the quality family togetherness—that one spring/summer they learned to play Scrabble and how to effectively use four letter words.
Hope for the future: Don’t forget the why
While so much has changed, the hope for our future remains the same. Let’s not forget the purpose behind those who sacrificed their lives and why we are being asked to remain at home. We are forming the grooves in the sand; the undercurrent that will forever be etched into our history. What remains, should be what matters most.
