Day 22- Sunny days

Three weeks!  What?

Life on stay-at-home is feeling more and more like our new normal every day.  We are slowly settling into a bit more of a rhythm with school days.  The drastic changes in the guidelines and news and the way world runs have slowed  and settled too.  We are getting used to limiting our shopping and errands.   Crossing the street on walks to stay away from our neighbors is feeling more routine.  Case counts and death tolls are, sadly, feeling more normal too.

This week's new recommendation has been for everyone to wear face coverings when in public spaces. So in place of any "real" news, my Facebook feed has been full of patterns and examples of hand sewn or "no-sew" cloth masks.  I'm finding the masks to be very off-putting right now-- and oh I HATE wearing one myself! -- but I'm sure within the week this too will feel normal.  The demand for masks seems to have brought an uptick in my Norwex business, as one can make a nominally effective mask from our Window Cloths, and Norwex will be producing personal use masks starting sometime this month...  So, silver linings???

By our third week of at home learning we have *almost* figured out how to run our days.  Large-format, hour-by-hour family schedule has been replaced by a personalized "to do" list for each kid and an overall list of goals for a morning session and an afternoon session of learning.  I check each kid's Google Classroom before they get up and spend some time making all the lists over coffee. Sounds idyllic and relazing but man is it ever overwhelming to try to manage the 15-some difference classrooms with assignments posted in all different ways with all different deadlines and formats and levels of rigor...  And seventh grade workload is intense!  The boy continues to try to find ways that work for him to manage it.  Today went fairly well.  He requested to start his day with free time to let him wake up.  Today, he self-selected to get some schoolwork done by about 11am and set up to meet friends online at 4 to give himself time to get done after lunch.  He took charge of his own day successfully and had probably his best mood and attitude of the past 3 weeks...Nat works on his courses in the morning while I coerce children into eating and starting some sort of work.  We walk to get lunch at Boulevard, and do chores after.  I do my office hours in the afternoon while kids finish their schoolwork lists and Nat does all sorts of stuff around the house.  We all relax or go outdoors or both til dinner. I'd had all these plans for wholesome engagement with the hundreds of games, toys and art activities in our home... but most days by3pm that feels like far too much trouble and we all just veg out on our respective screens.  I've been getting in a 5K a day for I think 6 days now?  Sometimes midday, sometimes evening.  Right now in our lives, this loose schedule feels like its working.  I still have a constantly evolving ambitious to-do list for deep cleaning and various projects to transform our home... but my online teaching is taking a lot of time and energy well beyond the scheduled "office hours" and getting the kids to stop dawdling and do a modicum of their work takes up the rest of the time.  So the ambitions may need to be adjusted a bit to fit with reality.

A few outings today when the weather permitted.  We've had a mix of perfect weather days and dismal Cleveland-y days.  Pictured below:   the perfect ones.

Euclid Beach, April 2nd

This photo sums up much of what it is like to live with my children .

Thank heavens for calming lakes...

Barefoot in the surf in April!  He did regret his life choices with frozen toes before we left. 

 This one didn't complain...

 The light was magical as we left.  And I don't think you can see it in the picture very well but water droplets were flying off of Winter's wet fur as she leapt after the ball.

Wade Oval Lagoon and Art museum patio, April 3.

Just because we can't go inside the Museum... we can still enjoy one of our favorite places.

Lighthouse tour part 2, April 4

We did significant alterations to the scheduled tour because it felt like a lot of driving to see the Ashtabula Lighthouse, which was one you can't even walk up to...  So we decided to only go as far as Fairport Harbor... but then we missed our turn.  Twice.  So Mentor Headlands it was.  In our quest to get close to the lighthouse, we ventured to the Nature Preserve instead of the usual beach.  And it was like heading into another world.

Marsh grass and sand and boardwalks and blue sky... felt like South Carolina or the Dunes and not just Mentor!  It was a glorious feeling, exploring in this brand new place in the sunshine, like we'd traveled much further than 45 minutes...

We were able to get pretty close to the lighthouse, it turns out.

By the time we got home the day had mellowed to a "barefoot with a gin and tonic" temperature.  Ah.

National Campfire night, Saturday night.

Ok, maybe not NATIONAL but certainly Cleveland Heights.  The air in our neighborhood smelled of a bonfire and we could hear at least 3 campfire gatherings around us.  After posting our campfire pictures, we learned that friends all around the area had been sitting at fires of their own.  Kind of like we were together, but not really. 

Sunday April 5.  The CDC recommends face coverings.  Let the draping of Window Cloths commence. Also it was gray and cold and so we stayed home for a change.  We are so stinking bad at this "shelter in place" stuff.

We made our Easter cut-out dough.  Or rather, Ivy made it, pretty much on her own.

Lakeview Cemetery, Monday April 6

See what I mean?  The sun comes out and we can't be stopped.  Contrary to what you see in these photos, it was fairly challenging to social distance there at Daffodil Hill.  Surreal to see all these joyful family units traipsing among the flowers, so idyllic... yet staying apart with this undercurrent of suspicion and tension... friendly smiles with apologetic eyes...

He's not actually that tall. I swear.  It's the hill.

This one is that tall, though.

At home, Tuesday April 7

Forecasted storms are only now materializing this evening... After one of our more productive home/school days, the on-and-off drizzle cleared, the sun came out, and we had our first patio dining of the season.  A midday run, lots of productive work with students and lesson creation, moderate cleaning and some time to relax, finished off with a Hiram Happy hour tonight... 

Grateful for good days in the midst of it all.

Day 19: Ruminating and Running

I've run a 5k every day for the past 4 days.  It's been an accidental thing but I think it's going to be an intentional thing from now on. A 5k a day keeps the doctor away, or something.   The weather has been cooperating and even on days that (somehow, strangely) get very busy indeed, I can fit in the 35 minutes it takes to refresh my soul in the spring sunshine.  Can't beat April temperatures for running. The perfect combination of not-too-sweaty and not-frozen-either.  The flowers have been bursting into bloom all over our beautiful city and the roads and sidewalks have been quiet and really, it's just lovely to get out and soak up these spring days.  Lovely.  Joyful.  As I run I feel alive and well and happy.  And as I ran today, feeling all those things, I also started to feel guilty.  Because this time to run in the middle of the day is brought to me by a freaking global pandemic, and there is nothing lovely or joyful about anything happening out there in the world, just the other side of the safe, daffodil-and-blue-sky bubble of my life. This impending dark cloud is just outside my vision, and I'd better be ready for the disaster when it comes...

But then I took a big breath of that 45-degree fresh air and said to myself-- No.

No, I'm not going to feel guilty. Or frightened or anxious or full of dread.  Not one minute more than I have to.

Because this, right now, this run-- this moment-- is my life and it is the good times and I am going to enjoy the heck out of the good times while I can.

Just over two years ago, I'd just finished treatment for breast cancer and I was experiencing not-insubstanstial anxiety about recurrence.  My oncologist, who is a wise and calm presence in my life, said to me, "Don't waste your time worrying!  Not only will it not change a thing-- but if the worst does happen? If the cancer does come back? Then this time, right now, this normal life- it's the good time!  Don't let worry about the future take this time away from you."

Brene Brown calls that dark cloud feeling "foreboding joy."  The feeling that we can't be happy because something is going to come and take that happiness away the minute we feel it.  I fall vicitim to foreboding joy pretty much every minute in my life, no joke. Most of the time there is absolutely no reason.  I just draw that dark cloud on my own periphery and let it steal my happiness.  And the irony of this whole situation right now is that  I think maybe some foreboding joy is actually justified, for the first time ever.  There really truly is a monster lurking, ready to steal our joy.

But maybe the fact that its real this time- maybe this is when I finally figure out how to break free.  How to feel the joy, and push aside the dread and anxiety and anger and paralyzing fear and just LIVE my life for a change.

Why not be happy in this moment?  Why not revel in the gifts of sleeping in and reconnecting with old friends and being home and cleaning my kitchen and picking up sticks in the yard and taking my dog for walks whenever I want to?  Why not enjoy the privilege I have been granted-- to shelter in a place of security and love, with parks and trees and beautiful architecture to enjoy?  My guilt and dread and worry won't change any of the bad stuff.  And in fact-  if I am less impeded by guilt and dread and worry I will be better prepared to help and provide care for those who are struggling (People in the larger world- and even some of the young people here in my own home...)

This moment-- right now-- this may be as good as it gets. Or there may be a future that's even better.  Who can say?   But this moment-- right now-- is the only NOW we've got so we may as well enjoy the heck out of it.  I am vowing to have more fun with my family, to enjoy this time we get to have with one another, with more intentionality.  This moment-- right now-- it is precious and not to be squandered.

A 5k a day keeps the foreboding joy away.   Hold me to that, ok?

Day 16: NOT April Fool's

April Fool's Day has never really been one of my favorite holidays.  I don't do well with teasing and pranks just feel mean to me.  But this year?  Totally boycotting it because there is nothing I, or anyone else, could come up with to beat the prank the universe seems to be playing on all of us. It seems cruel to play any more tricks on anyone.

On Day 16 America has over 200,000 confirmed Covid-19 cases.  Ohio is in the 600's with 65 deaths.  Our dynamic leadership duo of governor Mike Dewine and Dr. Amy Acton have been recognized on the BBC as setting the standard for pandemic response in the US.  The Cleveland Clinic, OSU, and Columbus-based Batelle are making daily strides in testing and research.  In the world of silver linings-- hey, at least its a GOOD thing to be in Ohio for once! Our somewhat-flattened curve of infections here is great news, but also (exactly as it should) it is pushing the peak later and later.  Schools have been officially closed until at least May 1st, and today there was talk of Shelter in Place extending into June.  The time has come to cancel our plane tickets for Denver and our National Park odyssey.  I haven't done it yet because I just can't handle the loss of yet one more thing I was looking forward to...

Disappointment aside, we are fine.   Yes, the kids argued nonstop for 65% of their waking hours the last three days.  Yes, the feelings are huge and close to the surface all the time, for all of us... and the month of April looms long before us.  But we are so very lucky to be employed, insured, and able to stay home together.  So many of my friends are essential workers, and have to report to work-- and possible exposure- every day in addition to schooling their children and generally managing life-in-chaos.  They are my heros.  And so many people are struggling to pay their bills, dealing with food insecurity or housing instability or domestic violence or addiction, the struggles of their lives exacerbated by this disease.  It has been hard to be a sensitive person for the past 3 1/2 years, watching the world burn.  It's becoming unbearable now.  I'm coping by keeping busy with little projects and lots of cleaning, frittering the day away with frequent breaks to scroll through Facebook.  Since Monday, I've had the added distraction of trying to help Jack and Ivy manage their (rather overwhelming) virtual schoolwork as we return to "school" after our so called "spring break." To tell the truth, I've found myself glad to be "back to work," such as it is.  The challenge of designing lessons and learning new technology and managing the online learning environment and my usual teaching paperwork has been a nice distraction.  My "office hours" mean I get two uninterrupted hours up at the desk in the spare room, immersed in small, check-off-able tasks and feeling like a productive person.  Almost like normal life.

So much of life still does feel so ... normal.  A little edgier than usual, perhaps, with a lot more screen time and a flexible schedule... but still, two weeks in to our "quarantine" this worldwide calamity has yet to really feel real.  The power is on, we've got water and food.  There's absolutely no rioting or chaos in the streets.  The world is calm and so much of life is just rolling along.  People coming and going, families out walking and enjoying the sunshine, spring flowers bursting forth right on schedule.  We picked up an order of Easter candy and gifts from Target and popped into Aldi too, and the shelves were fully stocked and everyone was gentle and friendly and keeping their distance and shopping was, dare I say, pleasant?  On our way home we walked around the Wade Oval Lagoon and the day was so very brilliant, crystalline and shining and full of life and light... We duly wiped down all the packaging on our products and scrubbed our hands upon our return... but its kind of difficult to keep up our anti-infection vigilance when life feels so normal and lovely!   We are existing in this strange limbo, full of waiting and anxiety and also moments of joy...  Is it ok to feel joy when so many people are hurting?  Is it ok to have a nice afternoon when people are dying so fast they need refigerated trucks for the bodies?  Is it ok to be angry and frustrated with my chidren and their feelings when I am so very very lucky they are with me, and healthy, and safe?  Navigating ambiguity is not my strong suit.  I am rudderless...

Meanwhile.  We decorate for Easter!  We take nice walks!  We cook three meals a day and do all the dishes that come with it!  We Zoom with friends! We stay up late watching mindless TV to numb ourselves!  We carry on. 
Love and miss you all-