family

Finding Grace Amid a Pandemic

/ Jeannine M. DeHart / Leave a comment
Four Person Standing on Cliff in Front of Sun
Photo by Helena Lopes@pexels.com

When the lockdown in my state of New Jersey started, I wrote this nice little essay about how great the pandemic could be for our family because we would have all this glorious extra time. How wrong I was!

Here we are into week 5 of the lockdown and here’s how it’s going:

Working from home is hard when kids are also attending classes online. My mornings usually begin quietly. I get up first, let the kids sleep in a bit since they don’t have to log into school at any particular time. Then I walk the dog, fix a cup of tea, empty the dishwasher and open my laptop to start my workday while still in my pajamas. When I rouse the kids an hour later, my work focus becomes a little blurry. There are requests for breakfast, which I accommodate, because how often am I able to make them breakfast on a school day? After breakfast, it’s back to work for me as the kids log into Google Classroom to get their assignments for the day. Around mid-day, the teens get restless regardless of whether they’re done with their schoolwork or not. I encourage them to go outside for a little while, mostly encouraged because I need a break from them by that point.

Once school work is done, the ever-eating teens are looking for a meal again. I respond with “You’re on your own for lunch.”

After lunch, there is roughhousing, and laughing, and loud music as the teens try to unwind from their school day. Thank god they at least have each other to get through this new concept called social distancing in absence of their peers. I try not to get annoyed with them given that I’m still working for another few hours. We have a small condo without a lot of quiet, dedicated space for working from home. It’s usually at this point I retreat to the bedroom and pop in headphones so I can continue to work uninterrupted.

Around 3:00 I take a little break, have some lunch and run the vacuum or throw in some laundry.

If my husband is home, it can be more challenging to sink my teeth into my tedious accounting workday. He is a nurse, so on his days off, he is extremely stressed about the hospital working conditions and lack of Personal Protective Equipment(PPE) during this pandemic, which I wrote about here. Rightfully so, he finds it difficult to unplug from the news and social media. He can’t turn off the need to want to DO something to help resolve the horrendous situation healthcare workers are faced with each day. I am proud of him as he makes phone calls, reads news articles, and touches base with his nursing union and his colleagues. In the background, I am churning away with my boring accounting work, thankful I have a job that doesn’t involve any sort of risk, but it still requires my attention and focus, which can be hard found.

When my workday ends at 4:30, I push myself to pull on workout clothes and either go for a run, do a HIIT (high interval intensive training) workout or a boxing workout (great for relieving stress). Some days, the effort to move my body the way I’m accustomed feels heroic. Some days I just want to curl up and take a nap. Occasionally, napping wins. After I return from the run or finish a workout, there’s dinner to consider.

The hungry teens are again ransacking the cabinets looking for food exclaiming “there’s nothing to eat”, even though there are options, although maybe not the usual options since I’m limiting trips to the grocery store for our safety. I get dinner on the table somewhere around 7:30. I had envisioned finally being able to eat at a ‘normal time’ while working from home, which never happens during a regular workweek since my 3-hour daily commute has me pressed for time every single night. But, alas, dinner is still late.

On the nights my husband works, I’ll do my quick disinfecting routine after he gets home to rid the house of any possible COVID-19 germs he may have brought home, yet it’s impossible to rid the house of the stress we’re both enduring from his profession. We eat dinner even later those nights, so we can all eat together as a family. Then the kids take their longboards outside for an hour or so, while we catch up with each other. If my husband can turn off his stress-filled brain enough, we’ll watch a movie or binge-watch the next best thing on Netflix. If not, I’ll think about writing, but will usually instead end up scrolling Facebook, Instagram and coronavirus articles online, also finding it difficult to turn my attention away from the chaos in the world.

Then it’s bedtime. I will fall asleep for about an hour and then suddenly awaken thinking about the craziness of the world. My mind spins with questions like — will my husband lose his job because he’s advocating for safe working conditions? How will we make ends meet if he does lose his job? Will we get sick? Will I get laid off or furloughed? Even though I have a very secure job, it’s still a possibility. I drift in and out of restless sleep filled with strange dreams and unanswered questions until my cell alarm clock prods me awake the next morning to do it all over again.

At the start of the lockdown, I felt compelled to use all this supposedly extra time to be productive. I put a lot of pressure on myself to make the best use of this time. I had a list of things to get done and I did pretty well tackling the list.

I reorganized closets and cabinets.

I painted a hallway or half of it until I ran out of paint and couldn’t justify risking a trip to the store for more.

I baked homemade bread.

I made delicious comfort foods, including banana bread which seems to be a pandemic staple.

I made my own disinfecting wipes.

We have spent more time with the kids, and we’ve had some laughs including an impromptu karaoke dance party.

I’ve long craved a simpler life devoid of the chaos that usually overtakes my work week, so I thought this lockdown would provide me with an opportunity to embrace simplicity and to an extent, it has. However, it is hard to ignore we are in the middle of something we’ve never before experienced and it leaves us with dark, underlying, unsettled feelings which are difficult to shake. Despite my best efforts to draw up the corners of my little world and create a protective environment away from the uncertainty unfolding, I feel like outside my window the Big Bad Wolf is yelling, “I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blooow your house down!” And, I’m scared.

My to-do list has gone out the window and has been replaced with simple tasks like; get out of pajamas, take a shower, make some food, and get my work done. The to-do list has been usurped by the fear of what comes next.

So, if you’re like me — finding it difficult to feel comfortable in our new lockdown roles, let’s all take a collective deep breath and give ourselves and those around us a lot of grace. These are uncharted waters for us, and we’re all in this together. Be well.

How to Make the Most of Social Distancing

/ Jeannine M. DeHart / 2 Comments

Finding the silver lining amid the chaos.

Image by Rene Asmussen

Yes, coronavirus is bad. Yes, many of us are panicking. Yes, we will get through this.

First and foremost, try not to panic. I know — easier said than done. My anxiety level this week is inching into the red zone. The declaration by the WHO of coronavirus as a global pandemic is leaving most of us feeling somewhere between scared and terrified. We are experiencing an abrupt upheaval of our routines, our livelihoods, and the daily things we rely upon for stability. We are asking questions like — Do I have enough food in the house? Am I going to be paid if I have to take time off from work? Will my kid’s learning be derailed if schools are closed? Will my kids get sick? Will someone I love get sick or worse? Will I get sick? How long will I be stuck at home? Will the economy collapse? The list of weighty questions goes on. According to recent reports, most of us will recover if we are exposed to the virus. Still, ‘most of us’ does not mean all of us and that little fact is nagging in the back of our minds. We are feeling unsettled.

Coronavirus is certainly upending our lives. Any time our usual routine is interrupted, it is normal to feel rattled. Many of us will be forced to work from home, our kids will be logging onto Google Classroom from home, and we are practicing social distancing. These are new concepts to wrap our heads around, in addition to being bombarded 24/7 with ever-changing facts and figures regarding the severity of the pandemic.

Take a deep breath or three. What can we do? Other than following preparedness guidelines, the only thing we can do right at this moment is to concentrate on and appreciate what is right in front of us. Amid the panic and uncertainty, we can and should and need to find moments of solace. There are opportunities to make the most of the situation, despite the fray.

How many of us spend our weeks running around like chickens without heads — stretching ourselves thin to get all the things done? By the time Friday rolls around, most of us are burnt out from commuting, working, and the daily grind of household chores, shuttling kids to sports and activities and squeezing in time for our needs, such as fitness. Weekends are filled with shuttling kids to sports and activities, catching up on household ‘to-do’ lists, prepping for the week to come, and somewhere in the midst, finding time to relax and take care of ourselves.

There is a silver lining to social distancing and self-quarantining (provided you are not sick, of course) — we suddenly have the glorious gift of extra time. There is no commute, no rushing kids to activities, no last-minute trips to the grocery store, no grabbing dinner out because you don’t have time to cook a decent meal. Dear god, if nothing else, in the middle of the panic and chaos spinning by us, stop to realize this. There is always a flip side to the coin. Here are some ideas on how to use that extra time:

Connect with the Kids — Kids home from school? School and extra-curricular activities canceled? Put technology away. Turn off the TV. Take a lunch break from work and study. Start a game of Monopoly, do a puzzle, play cards, put on some music and dance, laugh and be silly. While it’s also important to address any questions/concerns your kids may have regarding coronavirus, take this time as an opportunity to talk to them about all the things you never seem to find time to discuss.

Connect with Your Partner — After the kids trail off to bed, turn off the tv, put down the devices, open a bottle of wine, sit on the couch with your partner and connect. Talk about your fears and concerns surrounding the virus if you must, but also find time to push aside the news to check in with each other about your lives in general. And, have sex, don’t forget the sex.

Multi-task — You may still have to log into work and supervise the kids studying, but you can throw in a load of laundry, run the vacuum when you have a break, stir something on the stove, or take time to help with homework.

Make the House Smell Good — If cooking and baking are your things, take the time you would normally use commuting to try out some recipes with items from your newly stocked pandemic pantry. Check out these plant-based recipe options by the Minimalist Baker.

Meal Prep — Make and freeze soups, stews, and casseroles. In the event your household comes down with coronavirus, you will have some nourishing meals ready to go.

Netflix — Binge watch Peaky Blinders, Good Girls, Dirty John, Ozark, The Pharmacist, Atypical, Unbelievable, and The End of the F**cking World — all good binges to start.

Selfcare — When was the last time you found a half-hour to fill up the bathtub, light some candles and slide into a bubble bath? Find a quiet place and meditate or do some yoga. Try a workout at home. Here are some good bodyweight-no-equipment-required moves to try.

Reorganize and Catch-up — Clean out that closet you’ve been meaning to reorganize, paint the room you bought paint for a month ago, knock off some of the little, niggling projects on your to-do list.

Wardrobe Comfort — No need to dress for opening the laptop and working from home. Unless, of course, you’re on a conference call — in that case, put on some goddamn clothes. Otherwise, pull on those comfy yoga pants and t-shirt or better yet, stay in your pajamas all day long.

Connect with Family and Friends — It’s likely many of your family and friends are home, too. Been meaning to call your brother? Been meaning to talk to your elderly Aunt? Have a friend you’ve been playing phone-tag with? Now is the time to check in on them via a call or Skype or Facetime or Marco Polo. Find time for a little distant socializing.

Laugh — While coronavirus is definitely no laughing matter, find something light and funny to watch on Netflix. Browse funny memes. Watch your favorite old TV re-runs.

Although we have no guarantees, as there are never any guarantees in life, it’s likely our lives will return to normal in a few months and we’ll be back to our busy lives stacked and stacked with things to do, but for now, try to breathe and appreciate the simple things right in front of you.

“When you arise in the morning think of what a privilege it is to be alive, to think, to enjoy, to love.” ~ Marcus Aurelius

Butter on My Bread

/ Jeannine M. DeHart / Leave a comment

An excerpt from my memoir, Tulip

As soon as I entered the dimly lit kitchen the morning after “It” had happened again in fourth grade, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, I remembered our predicament.  Mom was missing again. The days leading up to it had been a blur of chaos, most of which left me hiding in my room under the covers drawing myself within a cocoon of safety.

Dad didn’t hear me enter the room. He was standing at the kitchen counter with his back to me, methodically making sandwiches for our school lunches.  He lacked the ease of routine that Mom possessed. His orchestrated movements – the bread here, the meat there – it wasn’t natural. This couldn’t be real life.  In real life, Mom ironed his shirt and pants in the morning.  He slung a tie around his neck, slipped into his shiny shoes, grumbled a goodbye, and was off to work. This dad, in his undershirt and dress pants slapping together school sandwiches, was not the dad I knew.

When he sensed my presence, he turned around slowly, defeatedly, his shoulders hunched, which seemed to have become his new posture.

“Morning, Fluff,” a false sense of confidence punching through the thin veil of his bravado.  “Morning Daddy,” I countered with my equally false greeting. 

I wanted Mom in the kitchen, even if it meant it was the black, marble-eyed, crazy version of my mother. I wanted her there to make me feel normal again. I wanted Dad to be on his way to work smoking cigarettes and, listening to AM talk radio. I didn’t want him struggling through school sandwiches with a thick slice of sadness. 

“I put butter on your sandwiches. I don’t know what Mom puts on the sandwiches, but I like butter, so there’s butter on the sandwiches,” he said talking softly and swiftly, more to himself than to me. 

He wore stress like a welder’s mask covering the emotion beneath, protecting both of us from the blazing, palatable pain in the room.

“It’s ok, Daddy, I like butter on my sandwiches,” I lied. 

I had never had butter on my sandwiches.  Mom always made my salami and mustard or ham and mustard sandwiches sans butter, but I was willing to try butter in this instance if it meant Dad’s droopy eyes would go back to normal.

Somehow, Dad got all five of us off to school with lunches in-hand, our names neatly written in his all caps printed writing on the paper bags. He wasn’t aware that Mom usually only put our first initial on the bags, but he seemed to take pride in writing out our full names.  As I reached up to grab my bag off of the countertop, I felt the weight of this small morning task he had performed.  With a butter knife and some paper bags, he taught me what perseverance looked like. 

I took my cue from him even though my insides felt like jiggly, shaky jelly, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the door with my brothers to school.  I found that place inside where you only see the few, small steps in front of you, not the big scary monster behind you, or the unknown, overgrown path in front. When I bit into my sandwich at lunchtime, I realized for the first time that butter tastes just as good on a salami sandwich as mustard. It wasn’t the same as mustard, but it was a sandwich and it was good and my dad had made it in his undershirt and dress pants before he left for work.