Before I start, let me just say this: This is a scary time and some people in my community are sick. My kids’ schools have been closed and they are all under a two-week quarantine. Because I teach in one of the schools, so am I. While most of us are scared, many more have it FAR worse than I have it at the moment.
Having said that, this effing sucks. I love my husband. I love my children. I do not, under any circumstances, need to be trapped in the house with them for going on ten days. Here’s what else I don’t need —
- To ever wipe a counter again. I basically stand in the kitchen from 8-6 and wipe the counters. Inevitably, I wipe some crap from the counter onto the floor and have to go looking for the broom which is in a supply closet along with 2,000 bottles of foaming hand soap. Also, bleach.
- To paint, glue, or do any crafting of any sort. There are many hours to fill, even with Zoom-classrooms and spurts of screen-time. But my oldest child is almost eighteen, which means I have basically aged out of playgrounds, sippy cups, and just about any crafting of any sort. But quarantine knows no age, and I spent an hour outside today painting rocks with my youngest, who is nine, and for whom this all may be the most difficult. I have also gotten busy with a fuse bead board and while we cannot breathe air that has come from anyone else, we are all inhaling the sweet-smelling fumes of the Shrinky-Dink.
- If you’re reading this, it’s time to wash your hands. Go now. I’ll wait.
- Lunch. If I gave you breakfast, and I’m giving you dinner, find your own lunch. Just remember to wipe the counters and wash your hands, and fine, I’ll do it for you.
- To ever know what time or day it is. I am an infant when it comes to Daylight Savings and it normally takes a good week for me to adjust. Now that I never leave the house, not only do I never know what day it is, I also never know the time. The only thing I do know that it is always time to for someone to stand in front of an open fridge and ask what’s for lunch.
- To listen to any more fights. People — this could go on forever. Let her choose the channel. Share your snack. Stop touching her. Take your foot off her leg.
- To spend any more time in sweats. Like bed-rest, quarantine was the kind of thing I once may have wished for — time at home (the children did not factor into my fantasy), clothed in an elasticated waist and a sweatshirt I’ve likely had since college. But ten days in, I think my sweats are even sick of me. I tried to put some makeup on and get properly dressed today (look! a bra!) but then realized that I was about to spend the day wiping counters and yelling at people and thought the better of it.
I’m wishing everyone good health and peace of mind to get through all this time inside. I hope you have better snack food than I do. I hope your children clean up after themselves, but if they do, I really don’t want to hear about it. Also, no posts please about chore wheels.
It’s time to wash your hands again. Go now, I’ll wait.
PS: Here I am after I spent time outside painting rocks. I’d like to thank the child who took time away from fighting with her sister to memorialize just how glamorous I look.