The Pandemic Will be Blogged

Oh yes. It will be blogged.

That is, when I’m not (remote) working / homeschooling / reading the news / watching inspiring videos of Italians singing from windows  / building a  smokehouse in my backyard a la Pa Ingalls for the day when shortages force us to resort to subsisting on raccoon jerky and pulled squirrel. (I actually have a decent amount of barbecue sauce in the pantry, right next to the tower of black beans and the skyscraper of tuna, which might be good on pulled squirrel? Maybe?)

Whenever life has thrown curveballs and challenges my way, I have kept my sanity and found community by writing my way through it. I did it when I found out I was pregnant with twins, when I was struggling through a year of severe episodes of clinical depression, and when Clio had leukemia. Since then I’ve blogged (do people even say ‘blogged’ anymore?) only occasionally. But if I want to get through this shitshow, I really do feel like I need to get back into a more regular  rhythm—at least until the highly evolved apes who will ultimately replace the human race pull the plug on the Internet. (Or, if they happen to be highly evolved uber-capitalist apes, start charging exorbitant amounts for web hosting.)

So. How’s everyone doing? WTF, right?

I always knew that a pandemic was a threat, but it always seemed like one of those far-off, so-abstract-you-might-as-well-ignore-it threats, like the Yellowstone super-volcano, or an asteroid on a collision course with Earth. I assumed that, if it happened (but come on, it would never actually happen) it would be more like Ebola, or some other extremely deadly and virulent disease, like the swine flu in Station Eleven (awesome book; don’t read it now) or Rise of the Planet of the Apes (awesome movie; don’t watch it now) that would wipe out 90% of humanity.  But this thing…it’s not as bad, and yet it’s bad enough to be truly awful.

The magnitude of it hits me in waves, and I have to stop myself from going down the worst case scenario rabbit hole: Total societal collapse! Widespread famine! Roving gangs of cannibals a là The Road! (awesome book; don’t read it now.)

In the most immediate sense, though, the part that is toughest is knowing that the kids are most likely not going back to school until the fall. Sure, sure, “officially” school is only canceled until April 8. But COVID-19 cases in our area aren’t supposed to peak for another month or two. You do the math.

So, like so many other parents around the world, we’re homeschooling, baby! Here’s our daily schedule, which you’re free to plagiarize and adapt to your needs.

Welcome to Covid Academy!

8:30 – 9:00 am: Get up (because where’s the fun in a pandemic if you don’t get to  sleep later than usual?) get dressed (YES), have breakfast, feed cats, clean litter box.  (No litter box at your house? You’re missing out on a key way to torture your kids! We all have to be able to continue to torture our kids with unpleasant chores during this trying time, otherwise the virus wins.)

9:00 – 11:30: Academic time. 30 minutes of math, 1 English Language Arts activity or assignment, 1 other topic: Social Studies  / Science / Language / Computer Skills. Be sure to get up and stretch after an hour. Get a snack, do a couple of laps around the house. Come up to my office and bother me just as I’m about to get on a conference call JUST KIDDING GO AWAY.

Is it “official” distance learning? Hahahahah NO! Nothing counts! It’s all “enrichment”! Some of the kids’ teachers are providing ideas and assignments, others no…or not yet. We have a shit-ton of online learning resources that at some future point I swear I’m going to organize. Yes indeedy. All I can say is thank God our kids are somewhat self-motivated and generally compliant (the threat of taking away screen time is useful) because neither Alastair nor I can be there to hold their hands throughout. It’s self-directed learning, man. Very hip, very cool, very forward-thinking. Crap, we need to get on this or the kids are going to sputter and crash by week two.

11:30 – 12:00: Exercise / outdoors break. Get out there kids! Bike ride! Walk! Hunt for squirrel! Raining? Great! Here’s A YouTube yoga channel. Here’s music! Choreograph something! Just leave me alone, I have to write copy for a website AND I MUST TAKE EVERY PROJECT AVAILABLE BEFORE THE ECONOMY BOTTOMS OUT SO WE CAN KEEP PUTTING TUNAFISH ON THE TABLE!

12:00 – 1:00: Lunch! And talk / facetime / Google chat with your friends, just like you’re at lunch at school! Isn’t it great? Isn’t this FUN??

1:00 – 2:00: Quiet reading time in your room. No, reading memes online doesn’t count. No, listening to a podcast doesn’t count. READING. ON PAPER. As in, a book or a graphic novel or a magazine. Jesus.

2:00 – 4:00:  Finish up any outstanding academic work  and then….free time! Art, music practice (instruments must be practiced 20 minutes a day), twiddling your toes, reading, whatever. Yes, fine, you can listen to a podcast, but no screens.

4:00 – 5:00: Mom or Dad’s choice! Could be fun, could be more torture, who knows? Grab bag! My two “mom” activities so far: On Monday we brainstormed a list of things do to when they’re bored (one of Clio’s contributions: Get coronavirus and die. Aren’t 13-year-olds charming?) and then made torn paper art—idea courtesy of our local community arts org, Follow Your Art, which is posting daily art challenges. Along the way, one of our cats, Opie, singed his fur by walking to close to a candle, which inspired Elm’s creation, above.

On Wednesday, I took the kids to a local nature preserve / park where we made hearts out of a sticks and acorns along a paved path for walkers and runners to see, and I gave the stink-eye to big groups of non-social-distancing teenagers walking around together like assholes.

5:00 – 7:00: Screen time. Have it. Go nuts. Enjoy. Text your friends, watch old episodes of Parks and Rec, play Minecraft with your friends across town, whatever. Soon the super-capitalist-Apes will jack up internet and cell prices, so you might as well enjoy it while you can.

7:00 – 9:00: Dinner, and then more of whatever. Maybe a family movie or game. Maybe not. Life is meaningless. Thank God we stocked up on wine.

9:00 – 10:00: Get ready for bed, read, etc., then lights out. Big day tomorrow!! What are we doing? The same thing as yesterday!!! WOOOhhhOOOOO!!!

My fellow parents of school-age kids out there, I feel you. Especially those of you who are doing double-duty and trying to work from home at the same time.

But all joking and complain-y sarcasm aside: Our family is so, so, SO freaking lucky. I still have clients and projects in the hopper, and I can do them from home. Though Alastair has had basically all of his gigs canceled, we’ll still be OK. We have a safety net. (And, incidentally, he’s doing a bunch of livestreaming shows on Facebook.) None of us are immunocompromised (anymore), and for the moment we’re healthy. We live in the ‘burbs, and have access to some nice outdoor spaces, including our own yard and a screened porch, which will be a blessing when the weather warms. So, I’m trying to keep my sanity and perspective by focusing on what I’m grateful for, because I know this is hitting — or will hit — others a LOT harder.

Lots more I could write about—like, oh yeah, by the way, my father died a little over a week ago—but I’ll save it for another day. Be safe out there. By which I mean STAY HOME if you reasonably can.

xoxoxo