Well. What in the world.

Here we are, collectively stumbling our way through this confounding and uncertain new reality. The speed at which life is changing is astonishing. Just a week ago, Nora and I went to a crowded, large theater in New Haven to see a musical. Seemed fine. Mere hours later, with brand new headlines about COVID-19 swirling, I probably wouldn’t have gone. A couple days after that we got notification from school that they’d soon take a half day to prepare for possible cancellations, but our school system and systems all over the state were closed before they got to that point. Get togethers, canceled, activities, canceled, all of it…you know the drill at this point.

Everyone rallied and it was incredible to behold. My kids got invites for online Taekwondo and piano lessons. People made lists of internet resources that were fun and funny and helpful, and encouraged each other to support local businesses and others who would be missing work during this period of social distancing. My incoming texts were arriving rapid-fire, full of friends checking in on one another.

This time - already - feels at once slow-paced and like a total frenzy. Like there’s this strange gift of time, almost, and I’m unsure how to best spend it. Do I need to be teaching my kids stuff in the absence of school and teachers? Should we revel in the laziness of it, take advantage of getting to lie on the couch all day? Should I be writing something memorable and important with all this time at home? I have to say that at the start of this past weekend, I looked at our schedule, suddenly wiped clear of every single social and other obligation - no concerts or classes or nights out - and was kind of into it. Not that I don’t love seeing friends (I already miss that terribly) but when my kids asked me on Saturday morning what we had going on that day - something they ask every weekend morning so they can figure out how to fit in some serious downtime - I answered, “Nothing! We have literally nothing today.” And felt some joy in that answer. Joy, you know, followed by the crazed realization that we are casually making our way through a global pandemic.

And, who knows, by the time I publish this post we could be at a whole new place. In fact, I’m sure we will be. It’s already difficult to know how to handle this best. Stay home 100 percent of the time? What if you need something? What if you have a sniffle or, god forbid, a fever? Who do you call? Hopefully these questions will become easier to answer, hopefully most of us will remain healthy but, again, who knows.

I don’t have the answers, obviously. The only thing I know for certain is that if we don’t get outside as much as possible, my children will definitely kill one another. Beyond that, I decided that at this current juncture - when one thing we do know is that we have some serious hours to fill, plus a need to remain sane and engaged - I wanted make a list of things we can do to get through. Because I love lists, and I’d like to try to make the best of this dystopian novel that we’re all characters in now.

(By the way, I am aware that not all of us have additional hours to fill - that some people will have to work more than they did before, especially those fighting at the frontline of this virus - and know that is a whole other type of challenge, one that also needs attention).

This list doesn’t include the pages of academic recommendations I’ve received from awesome fellow parents who are good at organizing such things. I’m going to be honest with you: while I know that it may become important to engage with those resources, so far we are doing a very low-key version of any “educational” pursuits here at our house. We’ve worked our way through some learn-to-read books, played some math games and are awaiting distance-learning packets from school. Tomorrow our plan might be eating cookies and watching television all day, I just don’t know. The point is, I’m not providing those education-minded ideas here because there are so many people doing it better than me already, and the thought of me providing educational ideas for children in any kind of organized fashion is, let’s be clear, laughable.

These ideas are also, importantly, ideas that come from a place of privilege, where all I have to worry about is wondering when school will be back in session and telling Gabe every five seconds that his behavior - sitting under the bed in Nora’s room before she’s fully awake in the morning and singing a song he made up about farts is “not helpful” - as well as hoping that no one I love (and especially those who have compromised health) gets sick. There are countless people who are going to need medical, financial and other support as this thing unfolds and while this blog post isn’t about that, it is imperative, as fellow humans, to provide that support however we can.

I also don’t mean to be overly lighthearted in sharing these ideas. This is serious. I’m worried and wondering how we’ll cope with what’s forthcoming, and feel true sadness for what we’ll lose. On a very small-scale and personal note, Nora’s sixth grade year at our school is full of many celebratory trips and traditions, as it’s the last year of elementary school in our district. They probably won’t happen.

But it’s uplifting to think about what we can gain. What these awesome kids will come up with instead. What we all will do instead.

These are simply ideas - some enriching, some definitely not - that have come to me in the upbeat moments where I’m thinking of what this period can be, rather than thinking, “omgwhatisgonnahappennext?!” Ideas shared my thoughtful friends and gleaned from other lists because, let’s face it, we all have a hell of a lot of time to make lists currently. I’ll keep writing throughout this period, and keep updating the below.

call me!
learn Spanish (or your language of choice) using Duolingo
make your own sourdough starter
train for a half-marathon
watch “The Golden Girls” ALL DAY LONG
rearrange your kitchen so it makes more sense
start a journal and, if you are resistant to the idea of writing in a journal, like me, keep in mind that you are actually writing down history (get your kids in on it, too)
teach your dog how to fetch the newspaper, if newspaper delivery remains a thing
make your own school, “with no other kids, just us, and we can do whatever we want in it” (says Aidy!)
exercise to reduce stress; try the 7-minute-workout if you want something quick
learn how to make a martini without looking at the instructions; then learn a Manhattan
My friend Tom’s excellent advice is to do all the things that “regular life doesn’t give you time to do”…house projects like finally painting that wall, fixing that truck or hanging that painting, or doing something artistic outside your comfort zone, like composing, drawing or knitting
hike every trail (six feet away from others)
J and Nora: learn a song together (I know that you do not want to do this, but I am asking for it as a gift, and think you love me enough to oblige?)
schedule a virtual friends night out at the bar, minus the bar, plus the use of technology like Zoom or FaceTime
make a dinner plan…every night for the next two months!
wear socks and sandals because there are no rules anymore (courtesy of Gabe)
if you hate crafting (hi!) let you kids cut up a bunch of magazines and make collages
if you love crafting, well, do all those crafts you’ve been waiting to do forever!
listen to the greatest albums of all time (thanks, Abby!)
learn an inordinate amount about something you love (for instance, I love whales and I love bridges - no, really, I do)
FINALLY READ “ULYSSES”
learn “Don’t Stop Believin’” on the piano (Nora’s idea and plan)
take an online yoga class
my friend Jennifer just started “In the Woods” by Tana French; I recommend ALL her books and should we have a virtual book club?!
learn all the words to “Shoop” by Salt-N-Pepa
have your 11-year-old (or whatever age) take American Red Cross online babysitting courses so they can start taking care of your family asap
enthusiastically make a very organized daily schedule then abandon it with glee
be like your grandma and learn to play solitaire
start. writing. that. novel.
head to the beach, ponder the horizon, close your eyes, listen to the waves
learn the constellations
watch “Schitt’s Creek” right this minute
my friend Tara says she’s going to learn how to make biscuits, fill out the scrapbooks she never had time for, clean her storage room and teach her children how to clean the bathroom (best idea ever)
watch this reel of news bloopers
bake everything (maybe concede you don’t really “hate baking,” Cara)
long walks x infinity