The stories we tell ourselves
The Upside of Sheltering at Home
In many ways, I don’t hate this new normal.
First of all, the pressure to shower daily has been lifted. Or to wear pants with zippers and shoes that don’t easily slip on and off.
It’s really not all that different from my usual day-to-day working from home routine. Most days I sit on my couch and write while wearing workout clothes, even when I haven’t done as much as a single squat. And I usually only stretch showering to every other day if nothing sweaty is happening in my life.
This week though, it’s as if my house has become a WeWork space, as I’ve been joined by a few other busy workers who take multiple conference calls throughout the day when they’re not Slacking fellow coworkers.
My two oldest kids came home to the roost late last week when the Coronavirus shit started getting real. They both live in New York City and I couldn’t get them out of there fast enough, even if that meant them coming to live here indefinitely. Both of their companies had moved to work-from-home by the end of last week, so it made the move easy. And since Monday, they’ve both set up shop in different parts of the house where they conduct business just the way they would have had they been in the office except with a dog coming around for frequent cuddles and their mom cooking up quinoa bowls for lunch.
But my third kid is in the hospitality industry down in DC, which is not conducive to a WFH situation. It’s hard to manage a kitchen staff from my kitchen table. But the hotel where she works has been hit hard by the pandemic — it’s sad to think of all the hourly workers she’s told me stories about who are now without jobs — and so finally on Wednesday, she cashed in most of her vacation time for the year to come home.
I’m not going to lie: I’m worried about all of us living together under one roof indefinitely. Especially when we’re essentially quarantined and now only leaving the house to walk the dog and run to the grocery store.
But overall, it’s been kind of nice. First, I think most of us are on our best behavior. It took until this morning for me to gently ask the hotel worker if she would get the enormous suitcase she dragged home, which contained — among other things — her 20-pound weighted blanket, off the family room floor and up into my bedroom where she’s been sleeping since we’re short a bed nowadays. Usually I would have been all over her after about an hour of trying not to trip over it.
Every time I feel myself on the verge of making some kind of comment about shoes scattered by the back door or coffee mugs and spoons that can’t seem to make the leap from the sink to the dishwasher, I suck the words back in and remind myself that we are in this thing for the long haul. I don’t want the pandemic to end with us never speaking again.
I’ve floated the idea of having a family meeting to discuss expectations and divvy up responsibilities, but that’s been received about as enthusiastically as when I suggested we watch a Ken Burns documentary.
“Why don’t you just tell us what you want?” asked my oldest daughter, and I told her I thought we’d try to be democratic about the process. But apparently, they like it when their mommy tells them what to do (or at least, it feels more familiar).
I’d forgotten how much work it was to feed four children every night: the planning, shopping and cooking of it all. And how much food we blow through. When they were little, at least I could just heat up some chicken nuggets in the toaster oven and call it a day. So far we’ve had sausage, escarole and bean soup, chicken parm and aforementioned grain bowls. They definitely did not eat like this on The Walking Dead.
I know I won’t be able to sustain this type of service but for now, I’m enjoying cooking for a crowd again. There is a big box of bagel bites in the freezer downstairs when I’m over it. I am finding it very reassuring during these troubling times to chop up a sweet potato to roast or stir a can of cannellini beans into a big pot of soup and then feed it to people who I love.
Last night after the soup bowls were cleared from the table by the two gentlemen in the house, the girls and I got out the deck of cards and played a few rounds of rummy before settling into the couch to watch the first episode of Little Fires Everywhere on HULU. Earlier, while the soup thickened, I sat on the couch listening to the girls working on a puzzle in the kitchen while I tucked into a book I have now decided I just can’t finish. Life is too short to spend on reading something I don’t enjoy.
The good news is that I realize how lucky we are, having lived through Superstorm Sandy. That was two weeks without power, hot water and coffee. At least we are toasty with streaming services and grain bowls. And most importantly, healthy.
Who knows what lies ahead in the future? I am really worried about the state of everybody's finances once we make it out the other side of the pandemic. So, like so many of you, I've embraced all the funny things I've been seeing on the internets and sharing them along with funny things that are happening here.
I’ve been posting a bunch on Instagram, and just got into a chat with an old friend who also has four kids (way back when we both wanted six #idiots). She told me it’s just her, one kid, a husband and a dog at home right now. The other kids weren’t able to make it home because of work or school.
“I wish all mine were home,” she messaged, and I was like, “I know.”
I really do.
Stay healthy and safe!
xoAmy
This Friday's Faves
There is a certain book that everyone has read and loved and I had yet to get to it. I started it and then quickly put down to read this, which I loved and wrote about last week. I started to read it again last weekend and you know what? I'm just not that into it. Instead, and inspired by all this downtime, I am going to revisit another book I put down a few years ago but am determined to finish (actually, am going to go back to Page 1).
Also in my batter's box is a compilation of Grace Paley's stories, essays and poetry and the novel Night Boat to Tangier. I'm also hot to read the new Chris Bohjalian thriller, which my pal just bought and am she's such a voracious reader even while working full time that I'm sure during a pandemic at home she'll be done in no time.
Watched and loved this movie twice On Demand (once alone and second time with oldest kid). Highly recommend.
Oldest daughter and I started watching this creepy HBO miniseries, based on oldest son's recommendation. We're exactly half way through and so far, so good.
My four kids and I went to see this guy in concert in February and this week we were thrilled to see him featured in one of NPR's Tiny Desk concerts. My oldest had turned the rest of us onto him a few years ago after playing this song for us and now we are all fans. You might also notice from that concert video that I skew a little bit older than his normal fan base. By about 30 years.
Made a delicious soup for dinner last night and even though it included beans, everyone gobbled it up. Now I know my children have grown up.
I made two Alison Roman dips last weekend. The scallion one in particular was fabulous and I am now drizzling it on everything.
I find Gretchen Rubin very comforting and motivating. She's the one who inspired me to tackle Middlemarch and to have a family meeting.
My older daughter and I just ordered these tshirts, with all profits going to the COVID-19 response fund.
Finally, do you have a pal who you think would enjoy talk of adult children and Tiny Desks, I would like to suggest that you share this newsletter and encourage them to right in their inbox.
xoAmy