I am a working mother of two small children. I keep reflecting on how nice this whole situation might be if I were childless:
- My husband and I could binge-watch all kinds of shows and movies.
- We could do some adventurous cooking together.
- We could deep-clean, redecorate or garden.
- I would read a lot.
- I could perhaps finally put together that book of humorous essays I always wanted to write.
But with little kids, self-isolating has looked a lot more like:
- Much more frequent complaining than normal about how the meal I made looks disgusting.
- More requests to view the size of someone’s turds.
- Constant hand-washing nagging.
- A 3-year-old who suddenly doesn’t like the number zero and gets upset when she sees it.
- A nearly constant, high-pitched whining noise emitted by one or both children when I leave their sight.
- Daily internal questioning about whether 4:30 p.m. is too early for kids’ bedtime.
So given that my life is not all binge-watching and unicorns, I have gained a new appreciation for some things I previously took for granted and other things that are getting me through this time:
Teachers
My school-aged son has been on spring break, so we haven’t gone full home-school yet amid closures, but the little bits we have done here and there have made me aware of what I already knew: teaching small children is not my calling. I don’t even like young children, which sometimes even includes my own. I worked with my first-grader for half an hour on his messy hand-writing today, and he cried twice in that 30-minute period. This does not bode well. Elementary school teachers, you are patriots and heroes, and you all deserve six-figure salaries.
My government job
No matter what happens, I can’t really dream up a scenario in which I won’t get paid as normal. My job security is on lock, especially given the particular part of government I work in. If people keep shooting each other during drug deals, (and they will, come a pandemic, an earthquake or the apocalypse because ‘Merica) I will still be employed. And while everyone else’s 401K has gone down the poop shoot, I’ve got a pension. It will probably take a hit, but it’s big and broad enough that it will be there for me when I retire so I can pursue my retirement dream of socializing kittens.
My office
The people who work in my little office at my government job are amazing. I know this makes me sound like a horrible mother, but I’d usually rather spend the weekdays with them than with my children. (Under normal circumstances, I do spend more time with them. And don’t try to mom-guilt me. I already feel guilty about not feeling guilty enough.) My coworkers never throw a fit when I don’t let them play video games. They’re not always losing their shoes. They don’t scream and stomp when they don’t get their way (I mean, not usually). They are smart, funny human beings who deftly handle crises every day that most people won’t face in their lifetimes. When we’re not in the office together, we’re often texting each other because we just like each other and want to share the video of a guy who left his mic on when he went No. 2 at a public meeting. This is the best team we’ve had in a while, and they make going to work a joy. As of today, I still get to join them on a regular basis in our actual office, praise Jesus Christ.
Streaming services
Like honestly, where would we all be if this outbreak happened 10 years ago? Panic-renting at Blockbuster? Is the Cosmic Kids Yoga lady a millionaire yet? She should be. She got my 6-year-old to do yoga for an hour today by making it about Star Wars. My son’s goal in life is to never have to do anything that requires him getting out of his pajamas. She made him do relatively strenuous physical activity for 60 minutes (I joined, as well), and he didn’t even notice it was a work-out. His only caveat was that he allowed to be do some of it with a light saber in hand, which I allowed even though he inadvertently hit me in the head with it multiple times. And this wonderful children’s yoga programming was right in my living room.
That I always keep a good stock of household supplies
I already had toilet paper that will last us for at least another month. I always try to have plenty of that on hand. Same for hand sanitizer, Kleenexes, bleach, rubbing alcohol and the like. You know why? Because I’m not gross! Did all you panic buyers not already have this stuff? If not, how disgusting is your house? If you did already have it, are you a selfish prick? (rhetorical question)
Freezer meals
One of our local grocery stores does a freezer meal prep program every month that I attend religiously with some friends. It’s how a working mom of two like me can feed her family good stuff in a tight time frame after work. I have five healthy and hearty meals waiting for me with four to eight servings each in the freezer right now. When I saw chicken and ground beef wiped out on grocery store shelves a week after this month’s freezer meal prep, I became a smug bi-otch and patted myself on the back for my preparation. The freezer meal program is now suspended until this coronavirus business clears up, but it’s given me enough tricks up my sleeve (to include several bags of frozen onions that were already chopped) that I know we’ll get through this.
Social media
When I am isolated from some of my favorite people, this is where I go. Yes, a lot of bad stuff and misinformation propagates on social media, but it does amazing things, too. Where else would I see Shapermint ads that are almost as satisfying to watch as power washing videos? How else would I know that there are just as many parents as me struggling to stay sane? Where else could I see people all around me coming together to help each other out so much? Where else can you see memes that make you laugh in the face of this terrifying thing while making fun of idiot anti-vaxxers at the same time? We need support and each other to get through this. If we can’t physically be with each other, being together virtually is the next-best thing.
My hope is that a year from now, we will look back on all of this and find the parts that were funny. We will laugh about how stir-crazy we got but acknowledge that it was worth it because we stopped something that was bad from becoming something that was truly horrific. We will remember how those of us who were more fortunate helped those who were less. And we’ll remember the wicked-cool Pokemon-themed children’s yoga we did with our families.
