6 am
I did it. I worked out. It was brief, but better than nothing. I opted for a Beachbody Fight Club number, and let me tell you, when the instructor prompted me to picture what I was punching, I visualized the actual word “COVID-19” and then I went all Kill Bill on its ass. Who needs to pay for therapy?
7:30 am
The four of us, sans Hank, went for our walk around the back path. We each cupped our coffee and hot cocoa and delighted at the orange sherbert skyline peeking out from behind the trees. It was chilly – somewhere in the low 30s – but with the sing-song birds and leisurely pace, it felt warmer. Or at least like it should be warmer. The older chicks ran ahead so they could log onto their first day of e-learning, but I stayed with Sloppy Joan. We shuffled along as she sucked the droplets of cocoa off her lid and giggled wisps of sweet breath into the early morning air. I love five. It’s such a magical age, isn’t it?
2 pm
My Misfits Produce box arrived! Guys, it’s the simple things in life right now. This is my third round of misshapen, salvaged produce and I’m a believer. I do the big box, $35, every-other week and it’s crazy how much you get.
The concept is really simple. Basically, some genius decided to take all of the fruits and veggies that weren’t as pretty as their peers or slightly bruised on the verge of being trashed or “extra” and box it all up and ship it out to folks for a discounted rate. It’s a great way to help reduce food waste and it’s also a fun little surprise. Is this a squash or an ungly fruit? I don’t know! Let’s find out! (Get 50% off with code COOKWME-ZN8QWY … I feel like a legit podcaster right now. Only I don’t get paid to say that. I just like it.)
Also, my friend Jen sent me this screenshot. So … I guess I’m pretty much famous. I’ll always remember you guys.
3 pm
Today I had a huge epiphany. Huge, Jerry! Spike was talking about how desperately she missed her BFF from aftercare. Just so happens, I know said-BFF’s darling mother. So I sent her a text and set up a Facetime playdate. At 3 pm sharp, their two adorable little grins showed up on a shared screen. Spikey walked around showing her our basement, our geratric dog, her bedroom, what we had for snack. The things 8-year-old girls talk about are absurd and adorable and altogether precious.
“I’m just so excited to see you!” she said. “Even if you’re just on the phone.” She covered the entire house and 25 minutes of conversation. It was the biggest smile I’d seen between her fantastically full cheeks in days.
7 pm
My JoJo was showing all the signs of stage 4 meltdown. She wouldn’t talk to any of us at dinner, she didn’t react when we all raved about the chocolate cupcakes she made from scratch (#COVID15) and she didn’t want to talk about her first day in the virtual classroom. “Would you like to Facetime your bestie after dinner?” I asked.
She hopped out of her seat and watched over my shoulder as I text her homegirl’s mom. A few technical glitches and bam! They were nose-to-nose. “I miss you so much!” she gushed into the smudged screen. Her bestie – we’ll call her Sid – is quite the character. I sat a few feet away and listened in as she put on a show with her cat, explained what sparkling water was and walked JoJo through her entire dinner and jigsaw puzzle activity from earlier in the day (an orangutan meme saying something like, “I farted”).
Today I realized that my girls have friends, too, and they need those lifelines just as much as I need my circle of soul sisters. It’s so easy to forget, with all the disruption to our work schedules and social schedules and meal planning, that these little humans lives and social connections have been disrupted, too. Of course they’re feeling cranky. They’re sick of each other! They’re sick of me. They miss playing tag and setting up silly clubs for people who like magic and losing their minds over accidental classroom toots.
I need to be better about supporting them in watering those seeds of friendship so they can keep blooming even in this cold, unseasonable climate.
Also, this just in: Sloppy Joan has a fever. First 99 then a hop, skip and scare up to 100 within an hour. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. Stay well, friends.
No Comments