The After and the Now

One thing I'll definitely miss when I go back to work.
I wouldn't be able to do this in my office!

It feels like April's been moving along a lot faster than March ever did. Maybe it's because we're used to the change now, complacent in our routine of weekdays structured by an 8-4 schedule logged in online and weekends centered around Baby and his exploration and growth. With only 7 days left in the month, I'm already starting to face that end-of-weekend anxiety of "have I done enough?" before this working from home experience is over. Of course I want this quarantine period to end soon and life to return to a little more normal. I miss my family. I miss having a cup of coffee at a cafe. I miss the routine of a life where you could actually plan for events like birthday parties and vacations and photo shoots with some level of certainty, and I certainly miss life without this extra layer of fear of illness and danger for my entire family and all my friends. But since this time at home is also a time away from the rest of the world, a time to spend with my son and further our bond and watch him grow as we stay home together, I start to wonder if I've spent my quarantined time wisely. If I've accomplished what I "should" have before we return to a life where I have to leave my house and my son almost every day. As a colleague mentioned to me over video chat just today, "We won't get this kind of opportunity again."

And so I wonder, did I take advantage of the opportunity? Did I treasure every moment enough? Did we play enough educational games? Did I document with enough pictures? Should I have tried to learn a new skill, or read or write more? Should I have tried to do more cleaning? What should I prioritize? I only have 7 days left (well, more likely at least one more week or two after that), before everything changes again. My husband and I will have to return to a physical workplace eventually, and even with the uncertainty I expect it to happen some time in early or mid-May. Then I'll be focused on missing the time I had with my son and fearing the health repercussions of going back because ultimately we just don't know.

I wonder if I'll cry more than I did after my maternity leave ended. After three months, I was thrown into the deep end of returning to a job at its busiest time of year while learning the tedious art of pumping milk and missing a helpless baby who I loved dearly but had only just gotten to know. He didn't even start laughing really until the month after I returned to work. This time when I return to work I'll be disrupting the schedule of a baby who seeks me out if I've disappeared around the corner of the kitchen, who pulls on my (pajama) pants to request a pickup, who smiles when I enter a room and laughs when I sing silly songs, and shows off such a clear personality--social, daring, curious. I'll be leaving behind the momma's boy I've always wanted who I've come to know so well at a time when he's about to hit such milestones as walking and understanding words, and talking. During these times we've also relied on each other for both entertainment and consolation. He keeps me occupied, I keep him occupied. He snuggles into me, I snuggle into him. He's reached an age where yes this might just be a little separation anxiety, but as much as he wants his mom right now, he also plays quite well independently, laughs heartily with Daddy, and reaches out for his great aunt when she comes to drop off food for us. So I know he'll ultimately be okay.

And me? I'm trying to focus on the positive. If the timing works out, I might not have to pump much longer as my son weans off of breast milk. Some of the work I'm doing remotely will also prepare me to be able to transfer to a location closer to my house so I can be closer to my son even while working (cutting down a 40-minute commute to less than 15 minutes). And it's definitely positive that I have a job that can help support my family. With all that's going on in the world right now, it might sound silly or privileged to worry about getting to go to work. But I've got my first and only baby on mind all the time right now. He's my child. He's made me a mother. He's my little bundle of joy and my whole world. So I will never not miss him or not worry about him.

The best thing I can do is try to live in the moment as much as possible, take lots of pictures and write lots of blog posts to document this time. It's not all perfect--staying at home for over a month straight has its challenges and even working from home can be exhausting--but it's certainly interesting. A friend mentioned to me that she's almost forgotten how to drive, which happened to me during maternity leave. It will take some getting used to once I get back on the road. I haven't had a need to pull out my purse in weeks. I barely wear shoes. I barely use beauty products. This is such a time of pausing and even resetting. And so I'm trying not to feel guilty about not being super productive (it's productive that I'm keeping my family fed and healthy every day, right?). An article I read on Facebook actually eased my mind a bit: this blog post by Jessica Bloom is literally titled "Why You Don't Need To Be Productive While Self-Isolation" and made me feel better that I haven't made time to clean out my garage or finish sending my backlog of baby shower thank-you notes. (As a side note, I had a list of over 60 people who gave us gifts, and I think I only made it up to #20. So if you didn't receive a thank you note from me, please know that I have been agonizing over it. But after being pregnant, raising a baby, experiencing a coronavirus world, and dealing with the anxiety of trying to write and mail to everyone in less than a year, I just couldn't get to them all and I'm finally trying to let it go. I did purchase several types of cards with the intention of sending them out. And I do appreciate every single gift we received!).

But back to our current remoteness. On April 16 we watched the Disney Family Singalong on ABC and even though I'm an adult and my son is still too young to understand any of this, it was just the kind of message of hope that we all needed, mixed with nostalgia, fun, and family feels. Plus most people know just how much I love Disney. On April 18 we celebrated my brother's birthday via Google Hangouts just like we did with my dad, and it was another lovely time. I got to see my brother unwrap the whisky-flavored coffee gift I got for him and I blew out a candle on a little lemon mug cake while he blew out candles and enjoyed cupcakes with his girlfriend on their end. We've also FaceTimed with my husband's family members frequently to show off my son's new abilities. Like just today he started standing up all by himself (for just half a second, but it's progress!). This is one of his many big changes lately. He's also started to realize the things he likes and dislikes. For example, he will smile if I mention the word "puff," his favorite snack, but will spit scrambled eggs out even if they're mixed with baby food he enjoys. He will start to cry crocodile tears when we don't give him our phones to play with, but will stop crying instantly when we play the video clip of Beyonce singing for Disney. It's adorable to watch, but hard at times too, like when I know he's in pain from teething, or when I actually need my phone and have to fight him in order to use it. It's both a blessing and tragedy to know that these are all phases that will one day pass.

Are there still new things I want to try before this quarantine period passes us by? Absolutely. I've started looking up my grandparents on Ancestry.com since my local library is offering it for free until the end of the month. I'd love to maybe do a video or two with my son and some books. I may get to a little writing. I certainly have to finish up my online children's book class that I started taking before everything closed down. And I'm looking into ways I can plan a six-foot-distance photo shoot outside the front of my house as a possible first Mother's Day gift to myself and possibly early birthday celebration for my son. We'll see if I can get to any of it. But even if I don't, my life is pretty full right now regardless. I had the perfect moment just this morning that represented quarantine life: passing a bag of SunChips back and forth with my husband using one hand, entertaining my baby with a toy using the other hand, and watching my laptop screen for a notification that the disconnected student I was helping for work had made it back online.

I have work to fill my days, a husband and baby to fill my heart, and lots of snacks.

Out of Ice Cream

Photo from the day before my son was born last year.

We ran out of ice cream on Saturday. I'd finished the last of our Oat Milk ice cream supply and there were no leftover Frostees from Wendy's or my husband's Carl's Jr. shakes, or a single pint of Cookies n Cream--both our favorites. Despite being lactose intolerant, ice cream is my comfort food. I begin the day with coffee (another important comfort), and instead of ending the day with wine as some do, I conclude with a few bites of something sweet to satisfy a craving or keep me sane when I've eaten mostly healthy the rest of the day. Plus calcium is good for bones and for Baby, and there's more protein and nutrients in ice cream than in, say, a donut.

Lack of ice cream is a minor inconvenience and a luxury I was lucky to have as long as I did. But these are times we need our comfort foods, comfort hobbies, comfort objects, comfort pets, and comfort people the most.

For those who are sick and the families of those who are sick, this current life is devastating, and there are few comforts that can improve that right now. But since I'm speaking from my current experience, this post is about those who are isolated, but healthy, and the mental toll fear and isolation can take. We all know the major disruptions in routine, the challenges of working from home while kids are home from school, and having to find projects to do to keep busy and keep sane that don't involve leaving the house. But there are other stressors at play.

For me, missing my usual coffee and ice cream comforts is not really the issue so much as the fact that I miss having the ability to just go out for Italian ice with my husband or pick up a Dutch Bros coffee on my way to work. I haven't hit the same level of cabin fever that some have yet because I enjoy staying home--Baby keeps me from getting bored and my introvert mind has a long self to-do list--but that doesn't mean there's no mental impact. In addition to the stress and anxiety of a lot of work plus a lot of fear during these times, the hardest thing about staying home is the lack of independence. I lived a wonderful, yet sheltered childhood, so it was an exciting adventure for me to be able to do things as an adult like travel for my job, join book clubs on the other side of town, go out shopping to decorate my very own house, still visit my parents often because we're very close and I chose to, or pick up coffee before work because I could. When I became a mom, much of my free time got cut again, naturally, so I had to drop some independent activities like work travel and after-work book clubs, but at least I could visit my parents and stop for coffee.

Now the ability to make my own choices is all but gone.

I haven't left my house in three weeks, one choice I can make to help protect my family. So the most exciting places I've traveled to have been while asleep. I dreamed I was chatting with my mom sitting next to her on the stairs. I dreamed I traveled to the other side of town for lunch and wondered why there was a carnival there during social distancing. But there are other dreams I didn't anticipate.

Two nights in a row I dreamed my baby stopped breathing.

He was okay. His mouth opened right before I woke up. His color returned. And nothing like this has ever happened in real life. But I've also never had nightmares before, even when I was pregnant with vivid dreams of purse snatchers, or when I was a new mom to a newborn, wondering if I would be able to do everything right. I never dreamed about something going so wrong.

This certainly speaks to the subconscious effect of these times.

On a lighter note, dreams aren't reality, and our reality so far is going pretty well. I opened my first pack of toilet paper since this all started, and I still have one large pack left. Siri on my iPhone has decided to be "helpful" and automatically remind me to check the weather each weekday morning so I know the driving conditions for work. It's a little annoying since I have nowhere to go, but I find the humor in it. "Thanks Siri. Good to know it's 64 degrees and might rain tomorrow as I travel the long commute across the living room."

We need to find the humor. We need to cut ourselves some slack.

It's okay to need to spend all day watching Netflix if that's what you need to function right now. It's okay if you're not cleaning your whole house or remodeling your backyard patio. It's okay if you have an extra helping of dessert and come out of this situation a couple pounds heavier than when you started. It's not like we can all go to the gym.

It's okay to be sad because you miss your family, friends, or even your ice cream. I was searching for nearby restaurant recommendations to give to a new staff member at work for when we're all back on campus and I caught myself staring longingly at Yelp photos of Instagram-worthy brunches with Belgian waffles, avocado toast, and multi-colored macarons. Then I caught myself looking up my parents' house on Google maps. It was nice to see it again.

But whether I'm out of ice cream or not, I'm so extremely grateful for the unexpected comforts I do have during this isolation. I have the opportunity to stay home with my son that I never thought I'd get during his babyhood. For at least a couple of months, I'm with him full-time. I get to watch him grow. I get to cuddle with him and my husband every night and focus on the decisions we can still make: What movie or TV series we'll watch on the weekend. Whether to get a drive-thru/take-out treat. How we want to arrange the furniture downstairs. What groceries we want to try to get delivered.

Our delivery service had a tub of Cookies n Cream and Neapolitan on our doorstep on Sunday, so I wasn't out of ice cream for long. Last Friday we watched Pixar's Onward, and this week we're watching The Music of Coco, to see if Baby will dance to "Remember Me," his favorite song since even before he was born. His spirits are always up through these days, and he loves to dance.

I hope to get more independence and choices again soon. But this is enough for now.

April Showers Bring Maybe Flowers?

We finally, finally made it out of the longest March ever. At the beginning of last month I was teaching an in-person library class, celebrating Women's History Month at work, and planning to interview candidates for a search committee I'm on to hire a new colleague. Outside of work, I was taking my son to the doctor, having a birthday dinner celebration with my husband's family, and trying two different photoshoots in order to capture Baby's 9-month, two-teeth smile. It seems like a lifetime ago, as we've now started getting used to a new normal that doesn't involve any of that.

This week felt pretty typical as far as work. I answered the usual student questions online, experimented with some digital presentation technology, and attended multiple online meetings, including my first virtual faculty senate meeting where the president of the college was interrupted by crunching paper sounds because attendees didn't realize their microphones were on.... I'm thankful that my job duties and national committee work have prepared me to use digital tools so I've been able to jump right in to similar online situations without too many mishaps.

Outside of work, I paid the usual bills on the first of the month, washed my hands to the point of dry patches of skin on the backs, and dealt with an uncomfortable--and now just ugly--stye. These are blessings, in the grand scheme of things. I can pay my bills. I'm not out of soap. A stye is the worst malady I have to worry about. Because I also know at least two people personally who are sick with the virus. There have been confirmed cases on each of the three college campuses where I work. It spreads and hits closer and closer to home as we take more and more precautions. I don't feel trapped that I haven't left my house in 15 days. I feel blessed. I feel like I'm doing something by not doing something, and I encourage others to do and continue the same.

Our governor has now issued an official "stay at home" directive, meant to be more potent than his previous request. And the nation has a possible date of April 30 before we might be able to re-open businesses and return to the outside world. If we can make it through another long month--the metaphorical rain of April--will we be rewarded with good news in May?

It's too soon to tell. So for now we live in April. Live in the day-by-day moment. We adapt. Like for my dad's birthday on April 2. We scheduled a Google Hangouts video call at 7pm when my brother got off work from his essential hospital job. This was another moment where I was thankful for familiarity with technology. Technology brought us together as we sang happy birthday to my dad, watched him blow out candles and open presents, listened to my brother play the ukulele for him, and took photos and selfies of our screens. It was a lot of fun, and we plan to do it again for our next family "dinner."

This is something we can look forward to in the April "meantime." I also look forward to upcoming amateur photoshoots I plan to take from home for Baby's 10-month "birthday," for Easter, and more. In the April "meantime" I figured it didn't make much sense to leave diaper bags and purses out since we don't have anywhere to go. I realized just how many shoes I don't need. I started to clean while Baby napped and we ended up moving furniture in our living room to make more space for Baby to crawl in and enjoy the "now." We had a family movie night just the three of us that Baby slept through (still too young for TV screens), but I very much looked forward to it. I might plan another one of those too.

Speaking of sleep, I don't want to tempt fate by calling attention to it, but one good thing to come from all our time spent at home is that my son has gotten better at sleeping. Not every night is perfect, and not every nap is independent, but let's just say I've had more long sleeps than interrupted nights since this all began. We've finally figured out sleeping arrangements that work for everyone.

And with that, my little one has just woken up from his sleepy morning nap and is ready to play! Hopefully there will be more good to come this next month, as we all wake up from this stagnant dream we never anticipated into a life of activity outside again. I'm keeping an eye out for May flowers.

Imperfectly Perfect Weekends

Home office for Monday, complete with new desk caddy in the back!

You can feel 100% comfortable in your body and then wake up the next morning with a painful stye every time you blink. You can have a really nice Saturday at home together, and then end the day seeing an article on Facebook about the first U.S. infant to die from coronavirus. Now suddenly you don't want to go to bed. Don't want that to be the last thing on your mind. Don't want to let anxiety take over.

My customized photo Shutterfly desk caddy arrived at last this weekend...with a clear scratch on one of my son's photos. Is it terrible? No. Is it a first world problem? Absolutely, especially considering all the horrors of right now. But it's also a "perfect" metaphor to represent how nothing in life is perfect, especially the things we look forward to the most. I was excited for something as small as a desk caddy to brighten my work-from-home desk during these times. When I realized what I thought was dirt turned out to be a piece of the wood scratched off, I was disappointed. A tiny chunk of my son's picture etched in the caddy was taken away. But I shouldn't have built up the item so much in the first place. Just like the times I took my son to a much anticipated portrait photo shoot and he refused to smile. The more I look forward to something the more I get disappointed when it doesn't go as planned, probably because I'm putting so much pressure on it to be perfect.

That's the kind of thing you have to let go of during a global pandemic when nothing is perfect.

Because right now, anything that was anticipated in March or April--and maybe even May and June--probably won't be happening. I feel extremely sorry for anyone who had a graduation this year, or a wedding! That's not the kind of event that's easy to postpone, and it's certainly a moment that's looked forward to with great excitement. There are families cancelling big trips, children postponing milestone parties, and women giving birth without their partners by their side. These big events that can't happen certainly puts things in perspective when I think about something as little as my first official Mother's Day brunch on hold. But I do lament the changes we now have to make for my dad's and brother's birthdays in April. I do wonder when it will be safe to have a large gathering again for my son's first birthday as well. I'm comfortable celebrating his special day in a small way at home with my husband--I already know that's special enough. Small, intimate celebrations can often be the most meaningful, and I will do anything to keep my son safe. But I also know that I have a large and wonderful family who will want to celebrate his turning one year old, and I had so many great ideas for a big themed party that will now have to wait too.

We're all grieving right now, in different ways. And the "positive" negative stories I've seen on Facebook talk about how it's okay to grieve the things we're losing right now as part of the pandemic, whether they be big or small. Our events, or our paychecks, or our family time, or our freedom.

The good news, though, is that in all its imperfections, this weekend was actually pretty nice. Despite the eyelid pain of a stye (not contagious, not a symptom of the virus, but just plain annoying), I enjoyed the time with my husband and baby again. Rays of spring sunshine lit up the house even though I stayed indoors, and we accomplished the little and big items on our to-do lists.

My son took long naps in my lap, cuddled close. I also got him to laugh several times throughout the weekend. He smiled wide when we played "This Little Piggie" with his toes and when I showed photos of himself grinning back at him. He explored every nook and cranny of our downstairs rooms, and crawled from one end to the other at lightning speed.

My husband brought drive-thru food as a treat, and picked up the desk caddy package for me. So Baby was able to eat his lunch out of a baby Starbucks cup while I sipped out of a real one. Then while my husband watched Baby, I got a little cleaning done: Putting away papers and baby clothes. Fitting photos into frames to display on our little mantle. And taking the longest, hottest shower I'd had all week. The song "Human Again" from Disney's Beauty and the Beast 2002 special edition re-release played in my head. I did feel a little more human and refreshed afterward. Self-grooming is important, even if you have nowhere to go.

I miss going out with my husband, getting dressed up for a big event with skirts and lipstick and coordinating outfits with Baby. But with all the things to grieve right now, outings is not really one of them for me. Because in a world of uncertainty, this is one thing I can control: staying home. I haven't left my house in nine straight days and going strong. The few groceries we need are delivered, allowing my husband's brief outings to remain brief--but he does like getting out every once in a while to avoid cabin fever. He's moved his jogs from the gym to jogs around our block, getting some outdoor exercise when Baby sleeps.

Saturday evening, I binged an adorable kid's show, Diary of a Future President on Disney+. It reminded me of the kinds of stories I like to write, and I appreciated seeing more Hispanic characters on TV. If Baby starts to nap even more independently, I might start writing more of my middle grade stories again, carving out time while he sleeps too, like I'm doing right now to write this blog post in the evening since he's fallen asleep in his playpen for the night.

On Sunday, I woke up at 4am while Baby slept on until 5am--another all-night sleeping success even if I couldn't seem to spend that last hour asleep myself. When Baby woke, he still acted a little sleepy, so I carried him around the house, rocking him. As I anticipated, his head soon nestled into my shoulder. His eyes closed. He was out. And while I get to have a sleeping baby on my lap all the time (he often falls asleep after eating), there's something extra special to me about holding a baby to your chest after you've rocked him to sleep. Since I'm usually the "milk factory" source of food to calm my baby, I don't always get those cheek-to-cheek, smushy-faced moments. So this time I chose to keep holding him instead of placing him back down in his pen. I treasured the snuggle for another hour, until he woke up ready to face the world.

I still worry about "the after" of all this. About how imperfect life will be with a changed economy and continued fear of germs, and so many lives lost across the globe. I don't want to be too overly protective when raising my son, and I always try to nurture his adventurous spirit, but I know I'm going to be even more nervous going forward. I already went through one trauma with his emergency c-section birth. I heard his heart rate dropping in the hospital as his oxygen went down during fetal intolerance to labor. It’s no wonder I have a hard enough time letting go already, wanting to hold him and be with him as often as I can. After this pandemic is over, will I be able to stand letting him out into the world at all?

That's a question that's not too perfect either. But as I tell my son today, "I love your smushy face," and sing his "Sheepy" and "Ducky" songs, and follow after him on all fours in a baby parade, that question can wait for another day.

Small Comforts: A Recap Thus Far

As we get close to the end of the longest March ever, I've been doing my best to focus on the positive. My recaps of the days thus far are defined by the small comforts we hold onto in times of uncertainty. Family. Playtime. Coffee.

Day 2: March 19
Definitely more alert during today's workday. The extra sleep Baby gave us the night before helped, and I got a special treat: my husband brought me coffee! After a quick food run he stopped by the Starbucks drive-thru to bring home a latte with coconut milk. I sipped and worked while Baby napped. During the day I felt productive, and at night my husband's aunt came to visit and fed Baby his dinner purees so I could get a few chores done like paying bills. I also tried something new that I couldn't have done if I were still working at the office: tracking Baby's naps to see if patterns emerge. Yes, I'm a nerd. But it's been helpful for scheduling the day and for documenting the times my son actually sleeps through the entire night!

Day 3: March 20
First Friday working from home. Well, from a home. I was nervous to leave my house at all this week, but we risked an outing to avoid cabin fever and spent the day with my husband's aunt who only lives 5 minutes away. This way she would have some company and Baby would get bonus entertainment and care while I got my work done. I planned to visit my parents the next day (they also live 5 minutes away) and would call them when I was off the clock. Until then, I adjusted to a very familiar schedule of back to back Friday meetings, only this time they were video chat meetings. It was great to see my coworkers "in person," though it was still a challenge to squeeze in nursing breaks (just like at the office when back to back meetings made it difficult to pump). But small comfort: no more pumping for now! The monotonous task is unnecessary when I can be home to feed my baby. My day ended on a somber note, however. After calling my parents to set up a visit, I learned my dad had a cough, and they had self-quarantined just to be safe. No visitors. I spent the evening worrying about my dad, but took comfort in the antics of my son, who kept fighting our "no screens" rule to catch glimpses of the TV as we distracted him away from it.

Day 4: March 21
A much needed normal. Today felt like a typical weekend day with Baby. It's usually a bit of a challenge to pack an infant in his carseat, make sure the diaper bag has everything we need, and plan an outing that doesn't interfere with meals or naps. Needless to say, we're used to staying home a lot. My husband doesn't play video games as much now as he used to, but he managed to play a little while our son slept on my lap. I wrote for fun, fed Baby his meals, played with him, and kept a close watch so he wouldn't eat any cords or fall over during his many attempts to stand. I wouldn't have even thought about the virus if it weren't for the reminder that I couldn't go to my mom's house to catch up on our TV show in person. So we watched This is Us at the same time on Hulu.com, keeping connected with our phones on mute and pausing the show to chat about whether or not Randall was doing the right thing and wondering what would happen with Rebecca. Apparently I also lost 3 pounds since Monday--likely due to stress and worry (Don't worry, the pounds have since returned).

Day 5: March 22
After debating where to set up my temporary home office, I ultimately decided to clear off my living room writing desk and bring down a rolling chair from upstairs. It felt good to have something organized, since I'd been putting off a lot of big cleaning projects after having a baby. I'm still waiting for my desk caddy to arrive. I realized I'd just had five straight days of getting to be with my son full time, and it made my heart full and happy. It was like being on maternity leave again, only with a different job (library work instead of raising a newborn, which is its own kind of work). Having such a curious, social baby who's now on the move also makes my time at home with him all the more special. My 9-month-old is entertaining all around--a joy to observe, play with, feed, bathe, and read to. Well, we're still working on the reading part, since he doesn't like to sit still for long.

Day 6: March 23
Monday. Back to work, and busy as a typical Monday at the office tends to be. You catch up from the weekend break and let the day just zoom by with activity. The biggest comfort to cling to today happened in the evening--from Monday night to Tuesday morning. My son fell asleep at 10:15pm and didn't wake up until 5:45am. That's an entire night!

Day 7: March 24
Baby was especially active today, running (well, crawling) around the downstairs of our house throughout the work day. Two days in a row now he also decided to do some...big diaper business during my lunch break when Daddy also was taking a quick nap. But I managed to change the diaper of a squirmy baby without making any mess, toss the diaper in the outside bin, clean Baby up, and get back to work without help and without waking my husband. It wasn't much, but I still felt a little like Super Mom. My husband made it up to me by bringing burritos and coffee from Del Taco. In the evening, Baby got more energy out by climbing a couple stairs (with my husband behind him) and we ended the day with a fun bath time. I've also started bathing in the evening to save time in the morning because a hot shower is another small comfort after a long day.

Day 8: March 25
I've taken to spending the day wearing nice, collared shirt tops...and pajama bottoms. This is the new norm, so why not be comfortable? Baby was more fussy than usual all day, so I tickled him to cheer him up. When he laughed and opened his mouth wide, I quickly discovered the culprit. His third tooth had just barely cut through his gums. But it was enough for me to see something there. Top left, just a sliver, but definitely a new tooth. Poor baby!

Day 9: March 26
Baby was still a little fussy with his teething, but doing slightly better today. He got to video chat with three of my coworkers and end the day with another bath. I haven't left the house in six days, but I'm honestly okay with that if it means I'm doing some small action to help keep my family safe. We FaceTimed both sets of parents (Baby's grandparents) and I finished an assignment for an online class I started taking before the global pandemic started. Yay for productivity!

Day 10: March 27
We made it to the end of another work week. Happy Friday Y'all! I have groceries scheduled for delivery tomorrow and a weekend to-do list of cleaning house and hanging out with my son. Right now the house is quiet with only the soft, sweet breathing of my napping baby, and husband right beside us. In his sleep, my son's fingers graze my arm. It's a scary time in the world right now, but I don't ever want to forget this feeling. That's a comfort I can cherish to get me through anything.

Day 1: It Begins

Exhausted victory.

We survived the first week of corona-closure and working from home. It feels like a lifetime has passed as we transition to a new normal, and yet it's only been three days. There were ups and down, exhaustion and triumphs, but at least we made it through together. This post is a recap of the very beginning. Only three weeks left to go?

Day 1: March 18
Today marked my very first day living in a closed down state and first day as a working-from-home mom. I set my alarm for 7:45am instead of 6am (yay!) because of no commute and no need to dress up fancy (I'm not going to say I spent the day in pajamas but...I'm not going to deny it either). I ended up waking early anyway. Baby didn't sleep well the night before. Maybe it was teething, or maybe he sensed my anxiety about the big changes to come. I didn't sleep well the night before either, tossing and turning and having trouble nodding off as I worried about so many things outside our control. When would we get to see our parents again? Would there be rioting from the closures? How would this affect our economy? What would work be like tomorrow? I grabbed my phone, and the one positive email in my inbox was about all the sales going on at Shutterfly, a photography product company where you can upload your own personal photos and have them made into custom books, gifts, wall art and more. I distracted myself by ordering a 50% off desk caddy to help organize my new home office. I had my son's photos decorate the front, and I customized the words "Do it for him" on the front (a Simpsons reference, that my husband and I both deeply understood). At last I fell asleep.

The morning was actually better. Our little lockdown meant no Starbucks/Dunkin/Dutch Bros coffee run before work, and I still had to squeeze in some kind of breakfast for myself and my son, but it still felt less stressful than trying to manage a morning routine with a baby before a 40-minute commute. Since my husband is off work for now, he helped immensely, and I was able to log in to my online office portal with natural daylight streaming in through our backyard window at 8am.

Things moved pretty quickly after that. I did wonder if working 100% online would leave me struggling to find projects I could tackle in an online environment. But there was no need. Using Microsoft Teams as our communication tool, I checked every message and channel, put together signs and answered student questions. Read emails and drafted plans. Found images and made changes on our website. There was a lot of solidarity with my coworkers and I felt pretty good all morning, staying busy in my online element. There wasn't even time to check social media (which, given all the scary posts about the virus, was probably a good thing).

At noon, however, the day got a little harder. My lunch break was spent trying to quickly feed my son his lunch purees, and ending up with a huge mess of green veggies all over his face and body. It was adorable, but took time to clean. My husband wasn't too thrilled by it either. I had to nurse soon after that since hungry Baby didn't like the taste of his chicken mush, and so I ended up balancing my laptop on my nursing pillow, typing away at work with Disney piano music in the background and a sleeping baby on my lap. I was comfortable, feeling good about the work-life balance and grateful I was able to still feed my son while at work. But because of the rough night and lack of coffee, I was exhausted by 2:30, unable to stop the yawns. Finally, a couple of projects later, I made it to the end of the workday. Everything turned out okay. I could do this.

I spent the evening watching a TV show on Hulu that my mom recommended, and it was actually a lot of fun (Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist). We could only get through half of the second episode since we had to put Baby to bed, but that's life with any small child.

We all slept better that night, still anxious, but a little more rested. A little more assured that this was possible and we would be okay, for now at least. My son slept several more hours than the night before, and so did I.

Love In the Time of Corona

These are the days of uncertain times. Like a work of fiction, something out of a horror novel, we face a global pandemic with the number of cases doubling every 4-5 days. The virus is said to be respiratory, reminiscent of a really bad flu case. But it spreads so fast that this has become a crisis across the world as we pray our medical facilities have enough space and supplies for the influx of people, pray that our older relatives and immunocompromised friends stay safe. Countries like Italy are on lockdown. Cities like San Francisco require a shelter in place. And my own state has ordered all non-essential businesses close for the next 30 days, starting after St. Patrick's Day (so, as of yesterday).

As if that wasn't nerve-wracking enough, 9 months ago my husband and I threw a curveball into our own regularly scheduled lives and decided to expand this family with a brand new, precious little life. My baby is now at an age where he's becoming more child-like than infant-like by the day: more sturdy, more daring (uh oh), and even more interactive. He eats purees and veggie puffs in between his milk. He explores on all fours (sometimes rising up to two legs!) and makes messes. He plays and claps and climbs, and it's the most fun thing to get to spend time with him. But raising a baby during a global pandemic is the last thing I ever expected to do. I was only prepared to have sleepless nights. Prepared to watch him grow up way too fast as everyone says. Prepared to never stop worrying and never stop loving. I never imagined I'd have to be prepared for something like this.

So we move forward (metaphorically, not physically) with that love instead, and hold onto hope and community (from a distance) during these surreal experiences and strange new times.

The good news for my family is that I'm in a position to handle a lot of the unexpected changes this pandemic has brought--and I recognize my privilege and blessings I have that many others do not (some are losing jobs, some are losing loved ones, so I will continue to support others where I can).

First, as an introvert, I'm comfortable staying home for long periods and socializing almost entirely online. I already survived 3 months of maternity leave where I barely left the house--just a couple doctor appointments and a drive here or there to get coffee. I know extroverts who would have found a way to pack up Baby and head out every week for their own sanity. They get cabin fever quickly if unable to interact with other people or attend events, and I feel for them. But if I have a good story to follow (book, TV show, video game, Facebook post, or even ideas in my own head), I can be occupied for hours. I already communicate with friends 90% through texting and Facebook, and it feels like some of them living far away never really left. But don't think introverts don't love people or even want to be completely alone. We just tend to prefer our quiet places of comfort to louder gatherings. We thrive in smaller groups (so we've got this social distancing thing down). And, to be honest, introverts don't have a lot of advantages in a largely extroverted society. Bosses tend to pick the confident "people person" shaking everyone's hands with vigor over the quiet intellectual who has trouble putting thoughts into words even if they wrote a stellar resume. We introverts have been greeting each other with shy waves and geeky Vulcan hand salutes all along. This is our time to shine.

Second, on a more serious note, I'm lucky to have lots of family nearby. We were already blessed to have parents who could babysit while my husband and I went back to work after maternity leave was over. Our families continue to help us now with supplies we couldn't get, ideas and advice we hadn't thought of, and all the love and support we could ever need. I know when I look back on these times I will think of how strong they all are and how we helped each other get through scary moments with the bonds between mother, father, sister, brother, aunt, uncle, and more.

Third, my job as an online librarian means not much had to change when our college moved classes completely online. It's easy to work from home when you were already working 90% at a distance.

Which is where the idea for this new blog came about. I've considered myself a writer since I was crafting my own silly stories at four years old, and I now try to work on children's novels (you know, before life became this whirlwind with an actual child) and I'm hoping to publish perhaps when this is all over. I'm sure we all have goals we plan to accomplish when the world returns to normal, recognizing the things we might have once taken for granted. Of course, it's hard to mentally make time for novels when there's a crisis surrounding you, and it's hard to physically sit down to write a long work of fiction when you still have a baby to take care of. But on the first day of my "new" job working from home I thought, "This is an experience unlike any other. I should be writing this down."

While friends with older kids document the ideas and activities that come out of having everyone home from school and work together, I decided I wanted to document too. In my own way, as a writer. In the brief(er) nature of a blog instead of a book since that's the medium I can access right now, stealing a few moments while my son naps to jot down and remember what life was like now. Life at a distance. Life with Baby, working from home. Life where so much of the world is shut down. Balancing it all. Living it all. Loving through it all.

So my next post will be my experiences and thoughts of the first week. Until then, I'm remotely yours....


--Stephanie