Letters from Kids

Since the beginning of quarantine, which will be 7 weeks tomorrow (which, in normal time, is 49 days, but in lockdown is the equivalent of approximately 2 ice ages), I have been sending cards and letters to some of the small people in our life. I thought it might be fun for kids to get some mail while they are home more than not.

So I sent out letters with stickers. Then I made Easter cards from construction paper and sent those. Then a couple weeks later, I sent out another round of letters.

And the response has been fun.

Bits and Pieces in Quarantine

Two days ago, hummingbirds arrived back in our neck of our woods. I love my tiny little friends, even though I absolutely know they just use me for my sugar water.

They were around this morning, but later in the day, the wind kicked up like this was Dorothy Gale's house, and for all I know those teensy creatures were blown back to Costa Rica. Seriously, it was like Oz out there.

Furry Pigs

Yesterday afternoon, my work was devoted to reading on the highly uplifting and life-giving topics of gender-based violence and intimate partner violence. Since these were going to be a drag on my psyche, I decided I could at least do the article reviews on managing these issues during lock downs in a comfortable location, so I moved myself out from the basement where I've set up a temporary office, and onto the love seat adjacent to our front window. 

I was two articles in when something outside caught my eye. A car had just gone by... but it wasn't that.

It appeared to be a furry pig trotting down the street. 

Wild Swings

I tried arguing with an idiot via social media today. That was, as should have been expected, a fruitless endeavor. I'll not repeat the points, as the rest of social media can weigh in on the merits of advocating for drinking bleach.

Instead, let me tell you about other ridiculous things happening at my house.

Day 42

Today marks the end of the 6th week of quarantine, day 42. Forty-Two by, the way, being the "Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe and Everything."

I may be getting a little frayed, and am definitely a little furry around the edges.

Newest round of letters to kids, out today. Because kids
should get mail when they are stuck at home.

I love, love LOVE my husband, and enjoy spending time with him. We've gotten along great, just he and I in this house. We have worked our full day jobs, cleaned everything multiple times, cooked, watched movies, exercised, sent several rounds of cards and letters to small people, gone in the hot tub, did some yard work when it wasn't snowing, watched the entire season of Love is Blind (firmly testing the limits of my ability to tolerate "reality tv"), cried over Daniel Tiger in the Mr. Rodgers movie (d@#n you Hanks), celebrated Easter and my birthday (thank you again to all who attended my online surprise party!), clearly read magazines, finished some books, listened to audio-books, walked the neighborhood, and still have not completed the bathroom (the mortar is now arriving next week. Home Depot refunded the shipping).

But it would be nice to have, like, in-person contact with someone else too. Zoom just isn't quite the same.

I've resorted to talking to animals like some sort of demented Snow White.

Reading Material

Tomorrow will be Quarantine Day 40, meaning we've spent just about as much time in our home as Noah did on the ark. Clearly, the upside here is that the animals stay on the outside and there's no seasickness to contend with.

We haven't done a ton of new or different things during quarantine, which I will surely regret someday. This isn't to shame us or validate the regret - we are still working, exercising, keeping up the house, sending fleets of cards to kids in our lives, and the never-ending task of cleaning the place... but we haven't learned a new language (although I did finally download a refresher course on French in the dull hope that the language I gained and lost 20 years ago will make a comeback in my brain), or picked up new hobbies or discernible skills. The bathroom still isn't done, although Eric has reworked the tile multiple times. We are close, just waiting on orders that are pandemic-backlogged.

What we have done is make a concerted effort to get through the years' worth of magazines in the house.

Seriously. Years.

Stress Management, Parenting and Staying Safe

You all know I work in child protection. I don't mean to be a Debbie Downer, but those of us in this industry are significantly concerned about how children quarantined at home will fare, so much so that we are having webinars, meetings, have published guidance documents and other various detritus of our trade. I mean, we even have a technical note that's been written! A technical note!

Kidding aside, we are really worried kids are going to get hurt by their caregivers, who are under significant stress. Stress stemming from lost jobs, limited movement, changes in routine, uncertainty, fear, health risks, etc., place children at a higher risk for abuse, neglect and even exploitation. Now remember, I work globally, so those of you reading may be going "exploitation, what?" I promise you, you don't want to know the details if you don't have to.

But.

But its important that you understand that kids are at risk.

Possibly your own kids.

Things That Happen Now

I drink a lot of tea now. Working at the office, I would occasionally have a cup of tea in the afternoon. Now, I'm drinking a pot, just about daily. I'm tearing through our supply of non-caffeinated herbal tea since afternoon caffeine is a recipe for not sleeping at night... not that I sleep anyway.

Sleeping is a challenge, and my persistent sleep issues are apparently contagious. Eric got up one morning last week and asked if I wanted to go in with him on a suicide-pact to ensure we actually slept through a night... instead, we combed through the drawers in the bathroom for medicines that might help. Two nights later, Eric took something that knocked him on his butt for most of the next morning. I didn't and Sunday was so sleep deprived I had flu-like symptoms, sans fever (which I know because I checked it incessantly because that's what happens now.) I knocked myself out with something else last night, and I'm fine.

As I have previously mentioned, I have always been a hand washer. However, this has ramped up during this time, and I'm beginning to wonder if my hands will ever recover. There are dry patches in between my fingers. My knuckles are cracked. My right hand is now oddly discolored with a distinct line at the wrist bones, and neither moisturizer, Neosporin, or the promises given to me in Guatemala about the miracle of macadamia oil seem to be helping.