As you all know, its been a helluva month/months/years....I honestly don't know how long its been. I do know that we are living through cray cray times. "My Corona" has got us all living like we're imaginary characters dreamed up inside Rod Serling's head on a very potent LSD trip. Everyone wearing masks, staring blankly into space, trying not to scream "why god" out loud over and over (just me?). We are all in this together, yes....but we are also all experiencing our own, incredibly unique episode of "The Twilight Zone". So, I thought I'd share a bit of mine...
"There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space, and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow; between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination, it is an area which we call..." The Corona Zone.
The day they announced schools would be closing I went into a kind of denial. Homeschooling was never an option or desire of mine. Like ever. Didn't even cross my mind as a possibility in the realm of possibilities. I would have rather worked in a coal mine than try to teach my child how to read. Ok, slight exaggeration but you get my point. The day Benny went to kindergarten I did not cry tears of sadness that my baby was grown, but rather tears of joy and gratitude. I would finally be able to poop in compete silence and peace! And that was a gift from the Gods. But alas, there was no choice in the matter. So, back in March, I became homeschooling mama (along with every other mom). I assumed it would be more of an anarchist education. We'd wake up around 10:00, watch some educational youtube videos about orbeez or nerf guns whilst I slowly sipped my coffee, then we'd take a walk in a park and Benny would climb trees, then we'd eat a long lunch, then learn about frogs or the history of hip hop. This has not been the routine. At all. I have realized, amongst other things, I am not very good at creating routine in the home. "Not very good" is a vast understatement. I am horrible at creating routine. I've written out several apocalypse schedules, stuck to each for about 3 days on average, and then totally crumbled. I was a stay-at-home mom, doing it solo, for the first 5 years of Benny's life...minus the "stay-at-home" part. We were always off on an adventure or three. Always on the move. Going from playground to children's museum to playground to walk. We moved around so much I was often occupied with packing, unpacking, finding the new playgrounds, or trying to remember which zip code my debit card was associated with currently. I always thought it was for Benny's sake, but, since this isolation has occurred, I have realized it was really for me. I thought I was very chill and good at being still. Turns out not so much. I needed the movement. I needed the constant change. I needed to escape the emotions hunting me down. I couldn't dare let them catch up.
Now I am left with a child who is 0% capable of entertaining himself. Before this shit-show began I had him in 4 extracurricular activities and had 2-3 playdates scheduled per week. It was like being a personal assistant to a celebrity at times! I knew it was over the top but I did it anyway. Now I am paying the price. He is bored, even depressed at times it seems. I feel like I have failed him and his developing imagination. I need to find a way to shift this dynamic.
A couple of weeks into this adventure, I also had the pleasure of breaking my ankle! Yahoo! This has made the experience infinitely more difficult. For the first few weeks I was on crutches and just taking a bath a day felt like a huge accomplishment. Now, infinity weeks later, I am still in the big, heavy, cumbersome boot. More lessons learned through this delightful experience. I am a bit crazy about the level of organization in my house (ok I knew this already but I honestly thought I had mostly dropped it). Not being able to clean up messes almost drove me to the loony bin. I do not, by any standards, keep a spotless home. I do, however, like to feel some semblance of peace and order in the home. The ankle would not allow this. Crazy-making. I swore out loud more than once at those damn crutches too. We had a love/hate relationship for sure...but I'm happy we have now parted ways.
Now to the mental health portion of this. I have struggled for years with anxiety, in particular the social variety. It took me meds, work, practice, getting back off the meds, therapy, and lots of courage to work through this and cultivate a social life here. When the corona broke, I was at a peak in my life. I had busted out of my self-imposed isolation and had a healthy balance of socializing. I no longer got panicked about going to the grocery store or the possibility of seeing someone when I went to get the mail. I had started substitute teaching and I showed up to almost all of my in-person classes. I started to date someone for the first time in years. Benny was doing wonderfully in school and at home. We were down to one hour of screen time per day for the most part. Life was better than it had been possibly ever for us. Then...boom. I was forced into the isolation that was previously my comfort space. Yes, we have a nice home and yes, my income does not depend on substituting. I know we are very fortunate. But my anxiety didn't get the memo. The longer this goes on, the weirder I am becoming about socialization. It started with not wanting to talk on the phone anymore, then not wanting to go to the store (even when I finally could). I am feeling like I don't want to see or talk to anyone outside of or home (which I know is kind of the point but this feels different). My anxiety is returning and that scares me. A lot.
So, with all that being said....if you know me at all you know I'm going to look for the brightest side of this coin. I like to bitch but I do not like to dwell. Yes, this has been really really hard. But, as always, with the darkness comes the light. Like I said we are fortunate and this has not impacted our ability to be financially stable. We are healthy and have plenty to entertain us in the home. We live in a beautiful home in an amazing neighborhood. The kids still have outdoor only playtime which is a saving grace for Benny. I am still with the wonderful man I was dating when this all busted open, and he has been taking care of me through this. He has really stepped up to the plate for me/us and I cannot be more grateful. Falling in love during this has been strange, but has also made this experience so much easier. I honestly think I might have chopped the whole foot off and made a wooden one if he had not been here to support me! Another positive has been with Benny's level of capability. Before this I catered to him too much (another broken ankle realization). His nickname, in fact, is "Little Lord Fauntleroy". I knew it was bad when my 11 year old nephew had to tell me that Benny was old enough to get his own water now! So this experience has made him slightly more independent, which was necessary.
I still feel enormous guilt for the amount of time Benny has spent on the screen and I feel I am losing my creativity and intelligence more every day. It is hard, no doubt, but I know (hope) it won't last forever and we will get through to the other side...ever more appreciative of the little adventures, friends, and school.
