miriam beth

we are quarantined.

it is a "stay at home initiative" and it is going to last...until may? june? july?

last friday we drove to the school--we did not get out-- and we waved vigorously to our teachers and were ecstatic to see our principal and our custodian and we gathered up all of our school supplies and we took them home and then i cleared off a chunk of counter space at the back of the kitchen (the kitchen is a galley kitchen with a "pantry" along the back wall) for our homeschooling supplies and now we school at home. that's four school schedules, plus the preschooler, plus me and my chemistry class (and maybe, if this goes on long enough my statistics class, too).

we are together. TOGETHER. because this house is not very big and there are seven of us. ryan has tucked himself into ava's room, kate has set up shop in her bedroom, ava is at my desk, leaving the rest of us at the large dining room table ryan built just before nathan was born. if someone needs space i've got two locations left: the boy's bedroom (internet is spotty there) and the patio (it is "freezing" out there). at ten am we start the school day. we gather in the living room and we talk about how yesterday went. we talk about how today will go. we say a prayer and read some scriptures (it is so much of a thing my own mother would do that i have found myself looking around the room for her, wondering if she's collected us here instead of me. of course she isn't here. somehow i am the mother who is doing this. how can this be?) and then we move to our corners, open up our laptops, and begin. sometimes there are a lot of requests. pages need to be printed. routers need to be restarted. videos need to be found. zoom classrooms need to be checked in. and, if you're kate, pencils need to be sharpened three thousand times (WHAT IS THAT). sometimes it is quiet and everyone's heads are bent, and they are working. sometimes seth is flopped over on the floor. sometimes there isn't enough of me to go around (this is more than "sometimes").

this is not quiet, this quarantine. this is not boring. this is baking rolls and cookies because i have the time and the energy and because there is no bread in the stores. this is folding laundry. this is soup in a pot on the stove. this is lesson plans for four, chemistry for one, conference calls from a 13-year-old's bedroom. this is a constant mess in the living room. this is trampoline jumping, flute and piano and violin (AT THE SAME TIME) practicing, small animal snuggling (we own a plethora). somehow, friends, this feels so good. it feels necessary. it even feels, i am amazed to admit, healing. we are sitting in this small house and considering what we have. what we need. what we want. what we had.

this moment is teaching me something: appreciation for what i have. this moment is teaching my children to get along. this moment is teaching us how many people we have in our lives that we LOVE, that we miss, that we want to see the minute this thing is over. this moment is making me grateful for FaceTime and homemade taco shells and afternoons spent at home and being outside, and not worrying or hurrying. i spent so. much. time. worrying and hurrying.

for now we dwell in a bubble. i know we dwell in a bubble to slow the spread of a disease that seems to disintegrate the lungs, i know that we dwell in a bubble to keep our immunocompromised safe. i know we do it for the health of our community, but in a small way, this feels like it is also being done for me. this moment is a gift and i don't want to take it for granted.

(having said that, i NEEDED a dr pepper today so i drove all by myself to go find one and i smiled the entire way there and the entire way back because i was outside and i was also by myself and i was also getting a dr pepper and i loved and needed all of these things)

also: how many plays on corona have you come up with? mostly I call this lifestyle "coronation" (this means i sing red hot chili peppers "californiacation" all. day. long. which has its drawbacks), but there is also coronafication, coronology, but my favorite is from my friend/mentor/old teacher, jerry, who is perhaps going to grace us with a twist on the knacks "my sharona" but it will be called "my corona" and it's going to be good, i can already tell.