I hadn't counted the days since I started staying at home. Well, not true: I counted the first two weeks, when I made it back from France and was under official CDC quarantine orders. Those first fourteen days were fairly well-documented.
As my self quarantine ended, Illinois' shelter-in-place period officially began. Thanks to working, having a kid, keeping a pretty tight routine - the days maintained some shape, but I did lose track of them. I wasn't keeping count.
Today I counted, and it's been fifty days.
Fifty days of quarantine/shelter-in-place/social distancing/isolation/navigating this ever-evolving "new normal."
Fifty days of spinning as many plates as ever, but all in the same location.
Have I learned anything profound?
Am I figuring out a few things here and there, though?
Here are a few of the words that best characterize these first fifty* days for me:
- Zoom... my gawd, so much Zoom... when the aforementioned books are written, there's going to be a whole subsection on Zoom, and the Zoom Riots of '21, and Zoombie outbreaks, and so many screencaps of Brady Bunch-style Zoomed faces onscreen and the class of 2120 is going to wonder what this strange and terrible magic was and why we relied upon it so heavily rather than figuring out holographic technology or something
- Schitt's Creek-ing
Here are words that DO NOT APPLY:
- (edited to remove political commentary)
Fifty freakin' days.
I feel as if I should be doing my part to document The Coronavirus Era better. We're all living out what is surely to be a chapter in every history book a hundred years from now, assuming people are still studying history a hundred years from now. I should be doing more, sharing more, processing more, embodying more.
Things I should have written about, but didn't:
I didn't write about the first time I went out wearing a mask. Or the first time the whole family wore masks. I didn't document closely enough to track the exact day when instead of resisting her mask, my three-year-old started turning her little face up toward mine so I could put it on her, just one more step in heading out the door now, like putting on shoes or grabbing our keys.
I didn't journal about my first pandemic-related anxiety attack.
I didn't jot down each time, amid all this mess, I had dance parties in the kitchen or played wildly imaginative games or just laughed until my sides hurt about something hilarious the kiddo said.
|The day was good, but I can't|
really say the same for Lion King II.
I haven't been capturing every moment, but I'm capturing some of them.
We're all doing the best we can, day to day.
Today, our fiftieth day-in, was a good day.
It was sunny and seventy-five degrees, and we planted vegetables in the backyard, started a landscaping project, video-chatted some friends, blew giant bubbles, made risotto, caught up on laundry, and listened to the kiddo's current favorite recording artist, Michael Buble (she recently named a toy cat after him; basically the highest form of toddler praise). As the sun set on our fiftieth night-in, we had a family indoor-picnic and movie night with Thai takeout (we make almost all of our meals at home... but once a week, splurge on curbside takeout from one of the local restaurants we're hoping will survive).
A good day.
A fiftieth day.
And just another day.
*I say "first fifty" because we know that, at least in Illinois, we're officially still sheltering in place until June. Probably longer, in some form or fashion. I fully expect to write a 100 Days post. Here's hoping it's an optimistic take at that point.