Grim Resignation in the Time of Coronavirus

We are now about 3 weeks into quarantine life and I am hoping that we are heading toward as much of a sense of normalcy that one can have right now. After a couple of weeks of nearly killing each other, Ryan and I sat down and hashed things out. Our lives have changed in both the grand scale and in the tiny details of quotidian life. Everything changed. We were unprepared emotionally and the biggest pain points ended up being the smallest things. A new division of labor needed to be established. But, as the death toll and infection rate continue to skyrocket in NYC, as the recommendations for avoiding the virus and staying safe change daily and as our children continue to go through phases (a fact that already takes a toll and requires constant adaptation), we didn't even have the bandwidth to acknowledge that the little routines no longer made sense.  

It took us 2 full weeks of no sleep to realize that our sleep routine with the kids no longer made sense. Before our nanny moved in, the kids were in separate rooms. Each night, we would swap being in charge of a particular child, meaning you slept with their monitor and got up with them whenever they woke up. This usually meant the person with Javi got more sleep. We kept this up even though they were now in the same room and waking each other up and it made no damn difference which kid you had because the minute you walked into the room to deal with one, the other one was crying for you. 

It took us 2 full weeks to realize that Olivia was having a sleep regression because she just learned to pull herself up and she was doing that uncontrollably at night and unable to sit back down. This would in turn wake up Javi and yada, yada, yada.  We switched her to the travel crib that has no bars for pulling up and she has slept through the night the last two nights. For the last 2 weeks, I woke up wanting to murder someone. I actually said to Ryan one day, "I hate all of you" and proceeded to name each person in our apartment, as if he needed that clarity.  

Shopping for food is no longer the lovely activity that I would do online once a week, occasionally stopping by and grabbing some items on the way home from work. It now requires checking every day to see if something is now in stock on FreshDirect and making sure to get it in your cart and saved as soon as possible. Their stock is running out so frequently that I have to spend so much time going through the exercise at checkout of being told something is no longer available and here is another option but then you choose that other option and it is no longer available and you are now in the circle of hell that is FreshDirect in the time of Corona. Once you are finished with the FreshDirect nightmare, you now have a list of everything not available on FreshDirect and one of us has to brave exposure by going across the street to the grocery store. I managed to find medical gloves, but, as is well known, masks are nowhere in sight and should be reserved for the medical professionals anyway. So, we wear gloves, hats, scarves around our faces, wipe ourselves down with alcohol and Clorox wipes when we return and hope for the best.    

Our lovely cleaning crew is no longer coming, so we had to add those chores to our weekly list and divide up the labor. While not devastating, it is just another thing to which our beleaguered minds had to adapt.  

Meanwhile, as our tiny family drama plays out, our city is under an actual ambush from an invisible enemy. We hear sirens and helicopters way more frequently. The Javits Center, where I took my NY State Bar Exam in 2008, where I picked up marathon bibs at NYC Marathon Expos in 2014 and with Ryan in 2016, was converted into a hospital. Central Park, where I've run the loop so many times on training runs and New York Road Runner races, where I've taken my children to play and enjoy nature, is now home to medical field camps to manage the overflow of COVID patients from hospitals.    

So, it took us 2 weeks, several moments of wanting to wring each other's neck and one very emotional sit down to adjust. I would describe last week as the first stage of grief. I cried nearly every morning. This week feels more like grim resignation, but a welcome change. 

It isn't all bad. We get so much more time with the kids. I no longer have to do bedtime alone. Since Ryan is home more, Javi is starting to ask for him and not demand mama all the time. We are lucky to have so many options for food delivery, although we try to minimize that as there is exposure. We discovered that we are great coworkers. Our weekdays are peaceful in our room, working hard and taking breaks to look out the window. We get to eat lunch together. Every night as of last Friday, NYC takes a few minutes at 7pm to yell thank you, clap, bang pans and cheer for our healthcare workers, an idea taken from our European friends. I've started looking forward to this time, as it makes me feel less isolated, less useless and more hopeful.  

To my fellow New Yorkers, I see you and I feel for you. If you are going through your own family dramas as you adjust to the new reality, you are not alone. Be kind to yourself and to one another. This shit is hard. For those in other cities that haven't been hit this hard yet, enjoy the freedoms you have now and please, keep sharing all of those pictures of you outside enjoying nature with your families. It helps keep this girl from going crazy with cabin fever and it helps me remember what there is on the other side of this.    

 

And I just want to acknowledge that I know I have it a lot easier than so many other New Yorkers. This pandemic disproportionately affects people who already have little resources or privileges. As many of you know, I work for a school exclusively for under-served students. Sheltering in place and distance learning are much greater challenges for them. If you are so inclined, please consider making a donation to help.  More info here. 

Stay safe, healthy and sane!