NY Pause

It was hard to update for a long time. I rather felt as if we would be living the same kind of life, with no reportable change, for the rest of our lives. But there have been a few subtle changes in the last weeks that make me think we might be entering a shift, so I will document what our life has been since mid-April. 

Oddly, the death rate from Coronavirus in New York State hit a peak at about Easter. Since mid-April, we have seen it go from hovering in the 700s daily to now, where it has dipped to just around 100 per day. I don't think I've missed a day yet of the Governor's "Show" as I call it. Jon laughed at me yesterday when I told him that Cuomo took a Covid test live on his show. But they have become something more than press briefings to me, and I think a lot of New Yorkers would agree. 

We keep the same schedule pretty much every weekday: I teach VIP Kid in the morning, the kids eat breakfast and dress and start school at 9. The baby naps 4-5 times a day. By early afternoon, the older kids are done with school, chores, and typing, and they generally play outside. I try on the good days to discipline myself to do things of my own, like make cookies, read, or write my fanfiction. By mid-afternoon, Jon is done with work, we walk for around three miles with the dog so I can cope with my crazy (and, I suppose, so Jon and the dog can stretch their legs). Then we make and eat dinner, listen to Grandparents reading stories on Marco Polo (we project it on the TV so it becomes like a broadcast; we all watch together), and go to bed. 

Sometimes, there's a little creative project in the mix, like the day we made bagels:

Joni observes Adele's homeschooling experience

These two are tight. Joni grins at both her siblings on sight

This shirt as as much a reminder for me as it is a cute statement for her

My heart's a bit sore. We've heard from church that we won't be in church until July at the last, and honestly the way we're likely to be worshipping (no singing, masks on, at a distance) is not the way I want to remember Joni's baptism. So her baptism, which I had hoped would be in late April, is now indefinitely postponed. I try to recognize that, in the scheme of things, this is not a big deal. But it still hurts.

We add interest and variety to our lives by occasionally ordering out. This was my Mother's Day curry from The King and I:

We're now on our third puzzle experience, having finished our series of Diagon Alley streetsigns:

Joni's wearing one of her amazing HP onesies, a gift from my cousin Emily

On weekends, we change our schedule. We don't have to, of course. Jon could continue to do work  on weekends, the kids could do schoolwork, as far as the teachers and bosses are concerned. But we make the weekend distinct, because it makes us feel like time has some kind of recognizable geography. So we clean the house on weekends, do church from our living room, and take weekly outings to local parks.

For so long the weather was in the 30s and 40s, the 50s only if we were lucky, and it really did feel like no progress of any kind was being made on any front. But recently, there has been a shift in that too.

This week I made chocolate chocolate chip cookies; a couple weeks ago, it was these "Butterbeer" (butterscotch) cookies

At least one evening a week, usually Saturdays, we play games or watch movies with friends online. It gives the illusion of having a social life. I quite rely on it. 

We change our inspirational quote weekly, to give us something to rally around. This from Star Wars reflects the sort of mania that had settled over us last week.

We now have two cloth masks each! I am growing to hate them incrementally less.

As Chris Traeger would say, "Therapy!" 

On May 15, our region met the criteria for stage 1 reopening from NYPause! I'm cautious in my enthusiasm, as the next stage can only happen if we keep our R-naught transmission rate below 1.1. But the numbers are improving daily. I have some hope that the second wave may be delayed until Fall or Winter; very little that the ordeal is actually over.

Meanwhile, Joni lives in the cocoon of her family at home. As far as she is concerned, all is right with the world. 

The kids have daily music sessions with our old college friend, Isaac Gillespie. What a lot of light and joy he injects into our living room!

Not to speak too soon on the 19th of May, but the weather seems to have turned a corner. 

Joni is three months old. She rolled over, from back to belly, two days ago. I just put her down for a nap with one arm out of her swaddle for the first time, and she's been asleep like that for 90 minutes. 

I simultaneously want to skip this year entirely, and to be totally absorbed watching Joni for all of it. Alas, neither seems possible. 

I'd like to finish with a reflection about the historic nature of this crisis, or what it has meant to us all. About the grief, the fear, the occasional fits of hope, the loneliness, the waiting. But today is just one of those humdrum days where the words really will not come. The children are restless; there is a lot of huffing and sighing and storming into other rooms, a lot of tears. Yet all the while the atmosphere is subtly different this month. The leaves are green, and the air is warmer. People we know are starting to get together. We have done three social distancing hikes with the Nickoloffs so far and feel less guilty and anxious each time. I applied for a teaching job last week, though no one has any idea of yet what school might look like this fall. 

There's a wind of change beginning to blow. I try to raise my hopes to the precise level where I think they should be, but I find they prefer to vacillate wildly around the mark. What was that lyric from the White Album?

"When you find yourself in the thick of it,

Help yourself to a bit of what is all around you,

You silly girl."