How to Survive a Surprise Day of Pandemic Insanity
Wake up rested and ready to face Tuesday. Kid #1 may be staying home with a sore throat, but Kid #2 got on the school bus successfully, lunch packed, water bottle full, and mask on, so that’s a win!
Walk the dog. Several blocks from home, answer a call on your cell. Listen to someone at your kid’s school insist that you pick up Kid #2, who isn’t sick. Listen as they explain that the school district’s COVID-19 plans, which they’d sent to parents in the form of an indecipherable flowchart, require all children in the family to stay home if one child has even a single symptom of COVID-19.
Ask questions. Listen to them say that all four members of our household must either have negative COVID tests or quarantine for 10 days before the kids are allowed back. Question this directive, which differs from the guidance you recall reading, and be told to expect a call from the school principal.
Drop off the dog and drive the old-clunker car to school. While driving home, explain to a perplexed Kid #2 that her school is trying to keep everybody extra safe and that she can do e-learning today.
Set up Kid #2 on your personal laptop at the dining room table. Grab your work laptop and sit next to Kid #2 to serve as on-call tech support and teacher’s aide.
Observe that Kid #2’s reading lesson requires a book. Kid #2 becomes teary because she does not have said book. Frantically email her third-grade teacher and learn that the teacher sent no supplies home because the staff had not explained why Kid #2 was being pulled out of class.
Contemplate going into another room to scream at the top of your lungs. Nix that idea because dealing with worried kids or nosy neighbors would be worse than bottling it all up.
Leave Kid #2 home with Kid #1 and drive, like a bat out of hell, back to school to pick up Kid #2’s supplies. These do not include the art workbook that she needs, but you won’t discover that little gem until tomorrow.
Reschedule your one conference call, observing with relief that the rest of your work calendar is meeting-free today.
Abandon everyone to take a 5-minute shower because it’s already 10:30 AM and you’re still in yesterday’s clothes. Scrub for two whole minutes before the phone rings. It’s your scheduled repairman, saying he’ll arrive in 15 minutes.
Let the repairman in, pausing to feel relieved that he’s already wearing a mask, unlike the last repairman who grudgingly put one on and then spent half the appointment grumbling about how he thinks COVID-19 is a hoax.
Sweep off the trampoline so Kid #2 can have “recess” there. Go upstairs to check on Kid #1. Make both kids lunch.
Do some work for your day job. Email the boss so she knows what’s going on. Thank your lucky stars that you have an understanding, sympathetic boss who’s unlikely to fire you over this.
Listen to Kid #2’s teacher conducting “Zoom class” simultaneously with in-person class, reminding kids to stay six feet apart. Contemplate how much teachers are underpaid.
Finally speak to the school principal, who states that only symptomatic Kid #1 needs a COVID test, not all 4 household members. Spend an hour on the phone with the pediatrician and 3 urgent care centers to figure out hours, costs, and age restrictions.
Fix yourself a gigantic gin and tonic to drink with dinner.
Drive Kid #1 to the one testing center that does COVID tests on kids under 12. Sit in the car until called, then sit in the waiting room, imagining the air filled with COVID germs and contemplating the irony of catching COVID while being tested for COVID.
Go home. Put Kid #1 to bed. Bring the spouse up to speed on everything. Play mindless cell phone games. Seethe at the total lack of national leadership that made this glorious day possible.
Hit the hay. Even though you are completely exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally, pop a Benadryl so you won’t wake up worrying at 2 AM.
Contemplate bulk-buying Bombay Sapphire as you realize that the entire school year is going to look like today, any time either child has a sniffle. Unless there’s an outbreak and it’s back to 100% e-learning, which will be even worse.
Make a mental note for next year: Beware the Ides of September.
Choosing a "how-to" format made this feel really fresh. It worked best for me when you used punchy sentences like "Go upstairs to check on Kid #1. Make both kids lunch." Coming like they did after a more descriptive sentence like "Sweep off the trampoline so Kid #2 can have “recess” there." let both halves of that paragraph stand out. I felt your busyness (is that a word) and stress without you even having to tell me you felt it just then - but I also just felt caring mom doing her best. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteYou and so many other people. Like Michelle, I enjoyed the format which took me along with you every frustrating step of the way.
ReplyDeleteYup, I wouldn't be surprised if liquor sales were at an all-time high right now :)
DeleteI love that you put this in the instructional format -- it kept the pacing tight and avoided the pitfall of delving into self-pity (which would have been easy to do in another format). Keeping the whole piece the present, as a set of steps to follow (or not follow!) kept the action at the front of mind. If you were going to cut any sections, I think the recess could be omitted without affecting the rest of the essay. I know it's that one more thing that you had to factor in, but it doesn't sit as neatly into the narrative as the rest.
ReplyDeleteOn a personal note, if you like botanicals in your gin, I highly recommend Ophir gin. It's my go-to gin these days. I also love Ink gin (but that's largely because FUN! COLOUR CHANGE!). Ophir is really aromatic and works well with a mild tonic. If you can get Mediterranean tonic, that works well.
As much as the situation is hard - I loved this post. I was with you throughout. In that car, with Kid #2 and kid #1, the trampoline and the dog.
ReplyDeleteGin and tonic does wonders.