Living during a pandemic is weird. Most days I feel like we’re just kind of existing, mostly in our own little individual world. There are highs and lows, good days and bad, but we’re surviving and thankfully healthy.
Of course, that could all change in the blink of an eye. The virus is still out there, lurking unseen in unsuspecting friends and family and strangers who stand too close at the grocery store.
In fact, my family learned today (July 22, 2020) that we need to self-quarantine for the next two weeks. My mother-in-law, who works in an assisted care facility, was tested for the virus last week, and the results came back today: positive. My husband and daughter saw her last night when they returned something we had borrowed before the virus became a concern. She has no symptoms and feels fine, and their contact was minimal, so we’re cautiously hopeful that we’ll dodge the bullet that is COVID-19.
But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified of the possibility of my daughter contracting this monster. She was diagnosed with asthma two years ago, and while we’ve managed to get her symptoms under control with daily medicine and rarely have to use her rescue inhaler, the potential impact coronavirus could have on her is nerve-wracking.
That anxiety extends to the upcoming school year, as well. Unless something changes, we’ve decided to do traditional classroom learning. My husband and I feel like the school system has a good plan for keeping the kids safe, and we feel like prolonging at-home learning through Kindergarten will have long-lasting effects on her social development. Plus there is no speech supplement offered with distance learning, and I’m already noticing a backwards slide in that area since our normal two-month break has turned into more than four.
Four-and-a-half months since schools closed. Twenty weeks of working at home with my five year old in the house. Half of that with my husband added into the mix. It’s been…challenging, especially in the beginning when we weren’t letting Alexis go anywhere. We slowly started letting her visit with grandparents and have upgraded to letting her go to a few stores. She wears a mask when she’s in public.
To be honest, I feel like my responsibilities and anxiety over the last several months have doubled, at least. I had surgery first of June and am still technically recovering from that, but my job has obviously not stopped. We ran out of “new” activities after the first couple of months and have probably been relying too much on the television, especially now that it’s dangerously hot outside. My house is in a constant state of disarray, my sleep cycle is totally out of whack, and I rarely get a moment that’s just for me.
But if there’s anything I’ve learned about life in my 30-plus years of living it, it’s that this too shall pass. So hang in there, mom and dad. It may get worse before it gets better, but it won’t last forever.