Wernet as crazy as we seem: Covid-19 Social Distancing: Week 3

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” --Matthew 6:34

"I won't look too far ahead, it's too much for me to take. But break it down to this next breath, this next step, this next choice--is one that I can make." --Anna, in Disney's Frozen II

During the last week, which was supposed to be the big kids' spring break, I've been thinking a bit about some things I'd been worried about. Like, things I spent a lot of time mulling and wringing my hands over, with all the what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. Among them:

1) Different spring break weeks. Since Kevin alerted me to it in the spring, I worried about how to manage the kids' spring break being the week before ours. Would they stay home alone? Go to the babysitter's? Try to take time off? No perfect solution presented itself, and mostly I felt really sad that we couldn't spend the week together.

2) Any spring break plans we might have made went out the window, anyway, when Nellie broke her leg. That brought a whole new slew of worries, but one pressing one was how to get Nellie to and from school for 6 to 8 weeks (turns out it would have been significantly more than that by the time she'll really be able to get around). Kevin was able to take her to school, fortunately, but I was leaving early every day to pick her up, taking sick time and scrambling to get back to get the littles or recruit help bringing them home. I couldn't see that being sustainable, but there really wasn't a better option.

3) The highway that we take to school was closing for the last two months of school. Closing! There's another, longer route, but how busy would that be? How early would we have to leave? What if there was an accident--was there a plan C? It seems silly, but I was dreading that added complicating factor to our lives.

I wasted a lot of time worrying about those things. Along came the coronavirus and changed everything. Nellie doesn't even have to go to school. I made the kids "do school" last week so we could all take the week off together this week. The highway closed this week--oh well! We have no reason to drive that route. It certainly brought to mind Matthey 6:34 and highlighted the futility of all that worry.

Of course, there are plenty of things to worry about. Bigger things. The night Governor Whitmer closed schools, I stayed up until 3am writing unit plans and lesson plans and signing up for webinars on hosting online meetings. By Monday morning, I had written up five sets of activities and projects for the kids. And that was just the beginning. The days have been long and full. And there's plenty more to keep me up at night. People in our communities who aren't as healthy or safe at home as they are at school and work. The health of the people we love. How to manage our time at home, with work and school all happening at once. My students. Not having access to the things we need. Job security. The economy. Getting sick. But like Anna said, I can't look too far ahead. It is too much to take.

Of course, we can't ignore the vast, foreboding changes. Only Kevin goes out, and only for groceries and occasional trips to work--with a mask, hand sanitizer (hanitizer, as Mary calls it), and disinfecting wipes. He strips down in the laundry room as soon as he walks in the door and tells stories about the tape on the floor marking standing distances and plastic shields at the cashier stands. We visit with family through FaceTime and Zoom meetings. Everyone in the neighborhood is out and about running, walking, and biking--but we give one another a wave and a wide berth. No playdates. No date nights. No activities. No eating out. No lattes (sniff!) I take all of our temperatures on a near-hourly basis (only a slight exaggeration) and Kevin and I give each other the side-eye every time a kid coughs. We've been letting Mary Cate sleep in our bed. And although we've never spoken about why, it likely has to do with the idea that if one of us got sick, we wouldn't be able to see the kids for...two weeks? Or if [please, no] they get sick, there's the possibility of leaving them alone in the hospital. I can't stop reading the news, no matter how hard I try to avoid it.

I like to think that just maybe, though, this quarantine actually has taught me something about worrying. All I can be sure of, after all, is today. Today, we have meaningful jobs that need our attention. Today, I get to plan and help with the kids' learning in a way I never have. Today, we are healthy. Today, we have more than enough to eat, plus the delicious products of Annie's love of baking. Sometimes, it sort of feels like a regular spring or summer break, just with lots of work to manage. I feel guilty admitting this, but for the most part, I like staying home. I generally long for more time just to be together. In some ways, this can feel like a gift. So that's what I choose to focus on. Trusting God because he loves us and is with us. Gratitude for today.