It’s not really day 1. This all started on Friday, when at the very end of our district’s conference day, we were notified that all schools in our county would be closed for two weeks. I spent the weekend processing and preparing. On Monday we had our first non-work day, and on Tuesday I had to work from home. Both days, I tried to create a routine on the fly but kept getting blown off course. Today is the first day that I’ve had some semblance of a plan for myself and my family. So in that sense, it’s day 1. Also, I didn’t have the presence of mind to start writing posts on Friday.

But I do want to keep up with the quarantine here on the blog, sharing daily (or almost daily) about my family’s life during this extremely odd moment in history. I’ve been enjoying other bloggers’ posts on this topic, particularly Sarah Hart-Unger’s daily perspectives at TheShuBox.com. It has occurred to me that since we’re not living our lives in public, most of us are curious about what everyone else is doing with our time. This subject is right up my alley: planning, scheduling, reflection. So I’m happy to share.

The Kids

Today my 7-year old officially started what we’re calling “Sowul School” (although he’d already made a list of ideas for all his subjects on Friday afternoon, and begged to start as early as Sunday). For ELA, he wrote a few pages of a fiction narrative about a boy superhero (to be continued), wrote in his journal, and read for 45 minutes. For math, he did half the packet his teachers sent home for the first 2 weeks (he’ll be done tomorrow). We’re doing either science or social studies, alternating; today he tried three new codes on his coding robot, Botley. He took a walk, played basketball in the garage and did random bursts of cardio throughout the day for P.E. We practiced piano for music. He’s also helping me declutter his room, one section at a time, throughout the week. He’s a lover of self-directed learning and play, and seems to be doing very well under homeschooling so far.

My 3 year-old wasn’t feeling well yesterday so I didn’t have many expectations for today, but she started to improve mid-morning so I invited my mom to FaceTime with us and do a little music class. We all have a lot of experience with the early-childhood program Music Together, and my mom plays about a zillion instruments. It was a fantastic 20 minutes before the kids got tired! We sang with my mom and her guitar, my dad and my grandfather on one end, and me with the kids and our small percussion instruments on the other. I think we’ll make it a daily thing.

The Mom

I was mad at myself for hitting the snooze three times this morning, something I NEVER do on a school day. But it’s so hard to get up when it’s still dark out! I hope to do better tomorrow morning.

I was happy with my self-care today, though. I did an actual meditation— after two years of near-daily meditating I finally feel like I’m getting decent at it. I wrote a good amount, though not as much as I would have if I’d gotten up earlier (d’oh!). I did a real workout (not just going for a walk with my kids, which isn’t really brisk enough) on the elliptical and using my hand weights, balance ball and aerobic step. I miss my gym, but I’m glad I have home equipment.

I want to read more– I’m halfway through 3 books, all of them good. And I’ve been meaning to start a jigsaw puzzle on the dining room table. That would be fun for all of us to work on, a little at a time, as we go through the day.

Privilege

I’m enjoying the bubble we’ve created at home. But every time I enter the outside world, through social media or the news, I remember why the bubble exists and I’m terrified all over again.

I’m holding the word privilege in my head as I go through the day. I’m very conscious that I have so much more than others do right now. A safe home; internet access; a union job for which I will still be paid and have health benefits; my kids’ grandparents nearby for social-distance visits; places to go outside when we need a break; the sort of temperament that adapts well to creating my own schedule and learning goals. I’m even fortunate in my kids’ current ages. Seven is a beautiful age where self-sufficiency is possible but my company is still desired. Three means spunky cuteness, snuggling and love. It’s a gift to have extra time with my kids right now.

The acknowledgement of privilege comes with many emotions. Gratitude, first and foremost. Fear, that something will come along to cost me what I have. Guilt, that I have so much when others are living with such uncertainty. Responsibility, to do what I can from my place of privilege, including being mindful of where my money is going in the community, supporting where I can, and checking in on lonely loved ones.

I’m not pushing my feeling of privilege away, even though it’s uncomfortable. I’m holding it, sitting with it, allowing all four emotions to mix. I’ll be examining it further as the weeks go on and things– most likely– get worse.