One week down. Literally countless to go. Could be 3 more weeks, 5 more weeks, 51 more weeks.... no one knows! I am not certain, sitting here in this moment, how to manage any of that.
It's been a hard week.
Not in every way, of course. Some parts have been easy and even... well, dare I say it?... pleasant. Like getting to sleep in, every. single. day. I'm rocking the 9:30 wakeup these days. Plenty of time to go for runs, walk the dog. Being home all day every day has allowed me to keep up with almost all of the basic cleaning, which is nice because I do enjoy a somewhat clean home. (of course having EVERYONE home all day every day means a lot more cleaning than normal, too...). We've even had moments of wholesome family bonding: Wii golf has been a winner, and Nat and Jack have been crafting like crazy (most recent projects include finger guards for archery, wooden spoons, and a new staircase for Jack's fingerboard park), Ivy and I played with Calico Critters together in our newly organized basement...
That all looks so great, I'm rather ashamed of myself for complaining. I mean, we are so lucky, really. We are both getting paid. We have each other and are not alone in this. We have been able to stock up on food. We are starting from a place of overall good health. We are all-- at this moment-- just fine.
So why am I so overwhelmed that I've spent all day snapping at my children? What is it about this that I can't handle?
I'd like to blame the kids, with their constant arguing and all their daggone feelings. But that's par for the course. Ivy is certainly vibrating at a higher pitch these days (sobbing tantrum tonight over the face that her cheese was MELTED on her Chipotle bowl...) but I should be able to handle it as the grown up, meet their feelings with compassion and patience.
I just feel so... depleted. I have no reserves to give to anyone. I think it is the constant anxiety. The stream of never ending bad news. The way each day brings more unthinkable changes, more restrictions, more uncertainty, more fear. A week ago I posted on one of my groups that I wasn't really worried about my own family in all this, just mostly worried about the world at large and vulnerable populations. Well, I am still worried about all that, but the last week has brought more and more news of younger and younger people getting very, very sick from this thing and so all of a sudden I am worried about my family too. Terrified, actually. A potentially fatal illness with a 2 week incubation period that can live on surfaces for weeks and be passed on by asymptomatic people is a real nightmare for a semi-hypochondriac...
This fear is living in me, taking all my energy and positivity and turning it into muscle knots in my neck and jaw, and extreme impatience with the overall humanity of my family.
Today has just not been a winner of a day. It's so cold and grey outside, and everyone is on edge, and Ivy has been whining all. day. long and Jack is generally jerky (it's like he's in 7th grade or something) and I have flown off the handle at them no less than 3 times. A long run and a yoga session, while pleasant, have not solved anything. I am currently self isolating in my office because my poor, sweet, overwhelmed and sad and probably scared children don't need my emotions making their lives harder.
(While I've been sad to see our Airbnb income disappear, I have to say this was perfect timing for me to get my office back. There's a bed to sit on, a tiny bit of floor space for yoga, a nice light, and all my favorite books and items on the shelves. I really think I might just stay here for the duration.)
At least until tomorrow. Which is a new day, and hopefully a better one. At the very least there will be online lessons to plan and cleaning to keep up with and a family to feed and dog to walk and I know I do bettter if focus on "outer order" and doing the things... and maybe staying away from the news for a day, too.
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