day 21

DISCLAIMER: I generally don't drink, but right now I'm sipping Pinot Noir from a mug my brother got me that says "You are doing a fucking great job." And today has been one of the better days.

Last night I went out for the first time in 20 days. I fashioned a mask out of a "POW' "BAM" comic-style bandanna we got during a "superhero" themed giant project from 2016* and two hair ties. I went to the grocery store and bought a month's worth of groceries, then stopped at the daycare lady's house and picked up some preschool materials and gave her a check. It just feels like the right thing to do, especially because we have a taste of what it's like to wrangle these two maniacs all day long--God bless her for managing to take care of (and teach) 12 of them.

The store was a weird experience. There were masked people, unmasked people parents with wandering teenagers, couples trying to decide which box of Triscuit to get and a pregnant employee making flower arrangements. There was no milk, but lots of bread. There was zero toilet paper, but plenty of meat at the deli counter. There was no flour but lots and lots of veggies. These are strange times. There was a weird, Twilight Zone feel to the entire experience. My cashier was young and had on gloves but no mask. I realized very quickly what an error it was to get the "smallesh" cart but managed to pack it full. At check out I had to get a bigger cart to actually get the stuff to the car. And a lot of it ended it up kind of dented by the time I got home.

I didn't like it. I'm hoping to go another 20 days until I have to leave again. All these years, I've been telling myself I'm an extrovert, but I suspect a) I was an introvert all this time?!?! b) H has converted me or c) I'm getting old. Get off my lawn. This quarantine really hasn't bothered me one bit. We don't take these children anywhere anyway, and while I can make conversation with a lamppost, these last few days it takes more out of me than it ever did. I love not having to do my hair or put on makeup and the TIME SAVED not having to plan to drive somewhere? #priceless. I sent cc a meme today that said something to the effect of "I haven't been late to anything for a month!" Except I'm the last one to log into my 8:30am work standup call every morning...

Working with small children has been so challenging. I wish I could say that I've totally figured out this new job, but if we are keeping it 100, I really haven't. A few weeks ago when they were playing Headbandz Jr., Ro told H "You're much smarter than Mommy." That shiz cut deep, little girl. Later, H gently reminded me that nothing goes unnoticed around here, and likely my constant self second-guessing has been absorbed by these little sponges. So now I have to keep my abject panic about how much I have yet to figure out about this job even after ELEVEN months to myself. Fake it till you make it? We will see when I have to take call next week for the first time.

I think it's safe to disclose at this point, two glasses of wine and almost 15 since I started this blog, that I used to be a journalist, working at a pretty-giant-named newspaper. And now I work in healthcare IT. Even though this was never our intention, so does H. We have a very unique perspective of seeing this whole COVID19 thing play out without being on the floor anymore (which I was for several years). Holy cow, it's like I'm Elaine on Peppermint Schnapps.

Anyway, we are hearing about things that are terrible and worrying SO much about our colleagues, friends and loved ones. Someone on my team is working on documentation for "expired patients," allowing for nurses and physicians to document details of all kinds. And H is working on reports on how many COVID19 cases (and at what level) for his organization. Sobering, at best. Yet there are still people gallivanting around, meeting up in secret, going on playdates, because they can't stand to stay home with their Internet and their fridges full of food. It makes me stabby.

This thing could be a death sentence for my brother, and the very idea of that brings me to tears. The poor kid hasn't seen a soul in almost a month; he's doddering around his three-bedroom house all alone. I just want to go over there and give him a hug so badly, but I'm 90% certain the 'Rona has has passed through this house. There is no way in hell I want to expose him to it. He needs to re-up his Coumadin prescription, but his APN says he needs to get PT/INR labs done first. So I'm trying to find an N95 for him to wear for the lab test.

Last night we also tried to bake our own bread, in this curvy type of Italian loaf pan. It was, as Paul Hollywood says in the Netflix series 1 of The Great British Baking Show, "Calling this a disaster would be an insult to disaster." It was hard as a rock. We left it out on the stoop for the wildlife, and it went untouched overnight. What a waste of five cups of flour and two packets of yeast. I should stick to cooking vaguely directed meals that don't require any precision.

I have been obsessed with the Apple Music radio show "Rocket Hour" with Elton  John. He is a lovely deejay and plays all kinds of music. I'm hoping the exposure will allow my children to appreciate all kinds of music. They'd rather listen to the Frozen 2 or Mickey Mouse Clubhouse soundtracks.

Sleeping on the floor in the kids' room has been eye-opening. Kash will roll right out of his toddler bed, onto the floor and not wake up. Ro will have entire soliloquies in her sleep (she got that from me). Sleeping on the floor is hard on the hips. I generally end up sneaking into the twin bed with her or cramped up in the crib-turned-toddler bed with him. I haven't had a good night's sleep in years, so it's kind of moot. But wow, am I not functioning well. [insert shrug emoji here]. I am hoping so hard that my employer is not basing continued employment at productivity stats.

H is feeling much better, but of course the pessimist in me suspects this is a fakeout before he feels a lot worse, as has been reported about this damn "THE SICKNESS," as Ro calls it. I have never before truly appreciated how much he does around here with the kids. But after this past week where I'm trying to work full-time and stay-at-home-parent full-time with H laid up in bed, I kind of feel like I'm either the biggest charlatan in the world, or maybe I can handle more than I thought. I am praying even harder that no one else gets this thing.

I'm blathering, but you know what, I've never buzzed posted before, and any editing I had done to my posts is out the window, because two people under the age of 5 will only play with kinetic sand for so long.

I don't know what I'm trying to say. Maybe I'm trying to say that I feel like I should be learning a hobby or catching up on shows or cleaning my damn house so we can sell it in time to move closer to my parents so Ro can go to the same school system all the way through. The reality is that I can't even find time to shower, and any free time I have is spent reading (I refuse to watch TV news) the news or listening to news radio or scrolling through facebook, where the comments and reposts give me the dopamine hits I used to get from this blog.

It will be interesting to read this later, when this buzz has worn off.


*I also have been coloring on this very beautiful calendar from 2017 that I kept. Don't say hoard--er, WAREHOUSING--never came in handy.