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.

Quit Trying to Win the Quarantine

That’s it. It should go without saying, but I guess it has to be said. Please, for the love of toilet paper, quit trying to win the quarantine.

We win, by surviving it.

Pre-Cornavirus, social media was already the ultimate humble bragging platform.

I can barely button my jeans from high school after giving (natural) birth to baby #4. Oh well.

Maverick and Iris will only eat vegetables, they don’t even like processed food ;) #justsaynotogoldfishcrackers

During shelter-in-place we are being visually bombarded by Pinterest-Mom’s everywhere, attempting to showcase their family thriving during this madness. While the color-coded progress charts have dwindled significantly from week 2, we don’t want to see your homemade hand-print pots your husband helped your six kids make for Mother’s Day. This sh** is actually bananas, I don’t need a recipe for your low-fat bran-banana muffins.

It would be one thing if you’re trying to stay connected with family and friends by spreading some joy or hope, but inviting me to start a Virtual 30–Day Detox Challenge, while doing push-ups with your kids, is not inspiring me to do anything but block your account. If getting into shape is your biggest challenge during this time, consider yourself #blessed. Most of us are not in our houses trying to come out the other side with bilingual, potty-trained, scholars—we are just trying to make it out, period.

The irony, however is now we actually need social media to witness a-day-in-the-life of those we love. I would give anything to wrap my arms around my nephew’s little body and sniff his head like a bouquet of flowers. But in the meantime, I am thrilled to watch him describe, every type of moving vehicle with wheels, their color, size, and purpose. Do they happen to make a noise? Perfect! Make them loud enough so my sister mistakes it for a goat mid-aneurism.

Most people are taking a much-needed social media break. If we do happen to scroll through, the most motivational posts these days are ones owning the fact that THIS IS HARD. People are actually dying Karen, so no I don’t care to try your new space saving pantry organizational system.

We need the uplifting stories, we need resources, and we need acknowledgment of healthcare workers. Stop reading about America’s utter failure under tragic leadership and the country club elite/WWE fans, who take issue with anyone telling them what to do. We win by listening to doctors and scientists and using other countries successes, that could be our successes.  

If you haven’t already done so, I recommend deleting NextDoor entirely, unless you use it for 3am feeding entertainment, like I do. Those engaging in “let’s passive-aggressively police our neighbors” through proper face mask etiquette and parent-shaming, are so up on their high horse, they actually believe they are providing society with a necessary service. I read a thread where one gentlemen suggested the greenbelt only be used for walkers and instead of running “runners should consider jumping rope somewhere away from pedestrians”. Another women told parents not to allow their children to ride bikes and scooters anywhere near her driveway. Clearly, there are no winners here.

Congratulations on your quarantine creativity, creating a biodegradable “Life Cycle of the Butterfly” diorama. We will just be over here eating raw cookie dough for breakfast, while the kids start their second consecutive of what I call “homeschooling” by YouTube.

The Mother of All Days

The invisible load of motherhood during sheltering-in-place, has taken our already full plate and stacked it like it’s Thanksgiving after 60 days of fasting. It’s no secret, parenthood isn’t about equally distributing the weight of responsibilities— right out of the gate it’s uneven; it’s more about showing up for each other when we need it. And Dads we need you to show up on Sunday.

Not with things or flowers. If this time has taught us something, it’s that we definitely aren’t missing material objects.

Not with family time, on this front, our cup runneth over. See, when our kids are around us, they will take and take and we will always be there and giving. Even when it’s begrudgingly, we love these demanding creatures with everything we have.

What we want is a day where we don’t have to give.

What we need is time alone.

Time just for ourselves; where we aren’t making food we can’t finish, answering every request that is not our own, and flip-flopping between all our roles which now include new titles like home school educator and at-home employee.

Of course, we want the children to celebrate us in their own creative ways. After all, they joyously gave us the privilege of celebrating this holiday. Of course, we will honor our own Mothers on the day, and it will look different than ever before--but we will be inventive in this world of restrictions. After that, we will gratefully hand the reigns over to you.

Maybe this sounds selfish and strays from the Hallmark image of a family picnic or breakfast all together in bed. But we passed Hallmark right around the start of “virtual learning” and wearing masks and gloves to the grocery store.  

This means, Dads, too will get to be creative. Maybe, you’ve already mapped out an entire day’s worth of outdoor exercise and adventure, 6 feet from other families. This way we are free to wander from room-to-room without stumbling into a tiny human inquiring about a suspicious brown object next to the toilet bowl.

Other options include backyard activities or epically long walks. If all else fails, we will happily claim a room and relish in its solitude.

It’s not just that we have earned a day of quiet or that we deserve it, it’s that we need it. With this time, we can recharge, in order to regain the strength required to carry our family through this. The greatest way to give us the Mother of all days will be whenever someone calls out for Mom, only Dad will answer.