Waves

There is a quote I heard years ago that someone made reference to when I was a stay home parent. The quote was, “The days are long, but the years are short”. This quote applies to parenting and is especially true for parents who are staying home with their kids for COVID-19. It’s been four weeks since my family and I started our home bound journey. I call it a journey because I don’t really know what else to call it.

Like thousands of others, my family and I have settled into a home routine. We work and school from home, cook, clean, and get outdoors for at least an hour a day. We don’t have a lot of variety to our days, except on the weekends we don’t do school or homework. Our days seem long and predicable.

I’ve been grappling with emotions during this journey, which appear to come in waves. I don’t feel emotional all the time, but when I do it seems to hit hard and fast, like a huge wave crashing to the shore. I started to think of my emotions as waves last week because I realized there was little I could do to stop them. They come and go at will, and I must wait until the feeling passes and try to regroup afterwards.

Freedom to do as I want, when I want, has been the hardest challenge for me. Not being able to head to the park for a walk or grab a meal a local restaurant feels punitive. I didn’t realize how important being able to do things of my own will were. Having options is important to me. I like change. I like variety. I like making the day up as I go along, rather than having it pre-planned each day. It makes me happier.

I struggle with feelings of boredom (doing the same thing everyday), irritation (compromising with the family on things I want to do, but they don’t) and guilt (feeling like I should be more productive and not complaining). All of these feelings are normal and to be expected. But, I’m not used to having the intensity and frequency of these emotions, so I think that is why I’m having a hard time.

I consider myself an introvert and enjoy my alone time. I like dreaming and having conversations with myself, in a healthy way of course. But, with my family and I all home bound in a small space (800 square feet), it’s hard to be alone. My bedroom has an open ceiling that allows light and sound to come in from the living room. Even when I head to my bedroom for “alone” time, I never feel alone. I find myself “hanging out with the family” doing things they like to do and get irritated because I am not doing what I like. The combination of boredom and irritation doesn’t prove to be a good fit for me, as my family has told me stop complaining more than once.

I realize there are many people alone at home and have limited social interactions. They are also struggling financially, due to a loss of work or income. This lead me to feeling guilt. I have people to support and spend the day with. We have money to buy food and pay bills. It’s silly to complain when so many people are struggling far more than myself.

There are other emotions as well. Sadness (missing close friends and family), fear (not knowing what could happen next), worry ( if I or someone I know will become ill), and confusion ( not knowing what I should be doing). These emotions feel strong and are difficult at times to navigate.

My family and I went for a drive yesterday evening. We drove by a local beach where we could see the ocean shore. Due to COVID-19, all the beaches in our area are closed, so we could only view the water from a distance. As I looked onto the vacant beach, a sense of calm came over me. I realized waves are only difficult when then appear large and overwhelming, but calming most of the time. It was a good reminder that this situation won’t always feel this way. The emotions will pass and calming rhythms will form. We will all find a way through this difficult time, even when our emotions make us think otherwise.

Sink In

Last week was a long one. I know I’m not the only one who felt this way. The family and I started the second week of our home isolation to help “flatten the curve” for the spread of COVID-19. My husband, young son and I spent our days at home; working, eating, cooking, and somehow managing. Our older boys, ages 21 and 23, are in their homes about an hour north of us. At one point, we considered having the older boys move back home with us, but frankly we don’t have enough room. We’re renting a small condo, which is fine for the three of us, but we didn’t feel we could manage having two additional adults in our small place. So far, the older boys seem to handling things, but there have been a few emotional moments.

About four weeks ago, one of my former staff members in Italy told me that the US Naval Base, where I had worked at a few years ago, had closed down. As a matter of fact, all of Italy had closed down. The COVID-19 situation in Italy had taken a dramatic turn for the worse and the Italian government decided the best course of action was to close the country down to reduce the spread of the disease. I’d been following the coronovirus situation as it developed in China, Japan, Korea, and Iran, but when the news began about how Italy has been affected, that was when the seriousness really began to sink in.

I envisioned the Navy Base where I worked and how buildings couldn’t be accessed. I thought of the many sights seen during my travels in Italy that were not longer able to visited; places like Rome, Venice, Florence and Capri. Italy is a favorite destination for many people and now no one was able to visit. More importantly though, it was the daily reports of the lives lost to COVID-19 that impacted me the most. Around the world the numbers of deaths to the virus were staggering and still are. In a matter of four weeks, everyone has been impacted by the virus.

As the news of the virus moving to the United States began, my family and I started to make decisions. We canceled our spring break trip to Canada and I researched what could happen to the preschool I manage, if we needed to close. I read the news to see what other local schools were doing with school closures. Eventually, California Governor Newsom mandated all Californian’s to stay home except for essential purposes. He stated the next eight weeks would be crucial to reduce the spread of the virus.

My husband’s boss instructed him to work from home. My youngest son’s school told us they were closing his school and doing online learning. I made the difficult decision to close my preschool for a minimum of eight weeks Closing the preschool would affect families who needed to work. The decision was made even more difficult, as I would not have work for my staff and they would have to go on unemployment. My staff work part-time with no benefits, so they don’t have the safeguards teachers working for a school district or government may have.

It’s been two weeks since I closed the preschool and I have been home. I work daily to support my staff or families who are uncertain of the preschool’s future. I grocery shop only once a week and cook our meals. I reach out to the big boys providing “motherly” advice on everything from eating at home, washing their sheets, and of course…washing their hands, several times a day.

I feel worn out. The emotions of COVID-19 have taken it’s toll. I feel concerned for the world in a way I never have been before. I’m concerned about people I’ve never met, as well as people I love. My family and I are doing all we can to stay safe and keep others safe, but I wonder…will it be enough?