Well,
So far so good.
Mostly.
Quarantine Day 4,
and nothing too major to report.
No broken bones, or rabid dogs stranding us on the tops of our cars.
No having to boil brown foamy creek water;
And,
as far as my initial Walking Dead imaginations were concerned,
I will call all this a big win.
I don’t know what exactly I could have anticipated.
I guess no one really could have imagined any of this, anyway.
I do know that you should have seen my face when I found out that I will now be homeschooling my three youngest kids for the next several weeks,
as that is a thing I said would never happen, so help me God.
The hours between 3:00 and 5:00 already have enough open-mouthed crying,
and that is just ME.
I have no desire to be their instructor full-time.
I do know that this very reluctant new homeschool teacher is about to kick that new math to the Corona-infested curb and teach these kids about math with 16 fewer steps and a tiny carried 1.
The Green Family Homeschool is going to have a heavy arts and P.E. focus;
and by that I mean I will be sending them outside to scrounge the three pieces of useable sidewalk chalk and then maybe to go jump on the trampoline.
The girls long ago formed their own
Drama Club.
At least they’ve got that one covered.
My only true challenge so far has been keeping them all from being so excited by the variety of food options I stocked up on that they eat everything within the first four days.
I had to sit them down and explain that this is not, in fact, the Live Action Hungry Caterpillar we are doing, so slow your roll on all that shredded cheese.
I have to admit, I did get a little panic-breathey when I went to the grocery last night to find that they were out of nearly everything on my list, including onions.
For some reason not being able to find a single yellow onion feels extra end-of-days and sepia-toned.
I admit I did then start flinging junk food into the cart that I’d normally never buy;
An act I’m sure any therapist would say was my attempt at self-soothing via Double Stuffed Oreo Cream.
But, to put it in the words of my 11 year old extrovert explaining to her introverted sister why she keeps showing up uninvited in her room now:
“Just go with it.
It is what it is.”
So now I am, like we all are, faced with how to fill this time in the best, most productive way.
Do we bake? Do we whittle?
Do we darn Daddy’s socks?
The kitten learned to hunt this week, so I’ve already been flinging baby rat bodies out over the back fence like a certified Ingalls.
I think I’m well on my way.
It can seem so daunting, though,
especially faced with multiple sets of big eyes all looking to you, wondering, “So, what now?”
There’s no book titled
“So, You’re in a Pandemic.”
and if this crisis has taught me anything,
it’s that I don’t really know,
so I just do the best that I can.
Maybe today we take a walk together, and pick up some pine cones for a craft.
Maybe tomorrow is Self-Portrait Day.
I read one suggestion to have your kids make cards for the elderly who aren’t allowed visitors, and drop them off at a local nursing home. I think we will do that one for sure.
Maybe Friday is now “FaceTime Friday” where you connect with the people you love.
Ones you haven’t spoken to in awhile.
Maybe we all learn survival skills.
(Well, all of us but my 8 year old, Paige, who would be off in the woods brushing her teeth with a dried up corn cob and never bathing again if she just learned two or three more key things.
She’s already spent hours of this time sword fighting a coat rack in her bathing suit.
Best not speed that one along any more.)
This last Friday, as the panic ramped up around us, and anxieties mounted,
my husband and I went to the nursery.
Feeling kind of at a loss for what to do,
we grabbed a wagon, and before long we’re pulling along the start to what will be a lovely vegetable garden one day.
It seemed like the perfect answer to what to do when you start to feel some form of decay.
You add something that is alive.
The beauty of your garden, your life, after all,
depends solely on what things you nurture, and which things you uproot.
We decided ours would not only grow fear,
so we purchased some new hopeful greenery.
We decided that Instead of wringing our hands in these coming weeks, we will use them to play board games, and to turn library book pages.
To paint, to bake, to play.
To use this time as all that extra time we always wished we could have.
Right now is that,
“If I only had just one more day…”
I think the world has been asking us a question for so long that now it is having to shout:
“What can you do to make the best of whatever time and life you are given?”
After living through the wildfires in California in 2017 that destroyed half my city, and having to flee as gas stations exploded behind us…
After looking back over my shoulder as we drove piled with kids, photo albums, and pets,
I learned the most important lesson of my life:
That all that matters are the things that you can carry inside your heart anyway.
Material things get destroyed,
Things we love get lost,
Beauty fades,
Heartbreak will come;
This is all part of life –
But in the end what matters most is what we did while we were here with our little bubble of personal space within our 4 walls.
Within our families,
and circle of friends,
communities, churches, jobs.
I think we will all one day be faced with answering the question
“What did we do with what was right there in our lap?”
And now we have the time to see.
This article was written by a guest blogger. The opinions expressed here are those of the writer and do not reflect the opinions of Bob Lacey, Sheri Lynch or the Bob & Sheri show.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
Beautifully said!