Signs the Quarantine is Getting to You

10) You watch cooking shows with a chip on your shoulder. "Sure you can make something from that basket, you've got a fully stocked pantry at your fingertips and you're only cooking for four." 

9) Discussions about what movie will be shown have camps, crossing over because the other side has better snacks is frowned upon.

8) Bedtime, morning alarms, lunch time, these are all mere social constructs that everyone else should follow.

7) One outing in the car a day is enought to require a two hour nap.

6) People discuss the weather with a degree of animation normally associated with sports or politics, because it's an observable change in the experience of day to day living.

5) Recall of what I was doing, why I came into this room, what day/time it is, and what we did yesterday is shot.   Memory of what we were doing last summer at this time? Crystal clear.

4) The creep of worry about the state of things has crept into where things will be next year.

3) Going into the car to curse at reality is a theraputic necessity that no amount of ice cream can eliminate.  --based on reports from teens. 

2) Your daughter offers to cut your hair based on the youtube videos she's been watching and your response is an unquestioning, "Okay."  because it's been since February since the last time anything of that nature happened and even if it's bad, no one will know.

1) You know how if you wear glasses, sometimes when you're not wearing them, you can still see the frames in your line of vision?  The same thing is happening with masks. 

Things to Do OTHER than obsess over living through this...

100.  Listen to or watch a musical.  Put on and sing along.  You can.
99. Plant a garden.
98. Clear out your closet you've ignored for years.
97. Journal.
96. Bake something.
95. All those photos on your phone?  Make into a scrap book.
94. Read one of those books you've been meaning to...
93. Pick up or practice an instrument.
92. Write your representative/congressman.
91. Pray a rosary.
90. Begin a fitness regimen.
89. Write a letter to a friend. (Not an email).
88. Paint a room.
87. Play a game outside with your kids.
86. Draw with chalk on the driveway.
85. plan a vacation for when this is over.
84. take a course online.
83. hold a family talent show.
82. Create a rube-goldberg machine in your house.
81. Make soup.
80. Listen to/watch daily mass.
79. take an hour nap each day.
78. introduce yourself to a new type of music.
77. read poetry aloud.
76. write poetry.
75. Grill food.
74. Play wiffle ball with your family.
73. Texas Hold-em, let people dress up for it too. Do the color commentary if you have enough people.
72. They're trapped now, family photo for the Christmas letter.
71.  Take a long bubble bath during the day.
70. Donate blood.
69. Donate food.
68. Take a walk with just one other person from your family to give them time.
67. Create a Zoom meeting with your family, extended.
66. Eat cake for breakfast.
65. Go outside at night and look at the stars.
64. Take a virtual tour of a top museum.
63. Paint your nails.
62. Learn a craft --sewing/oragami, whathaveyou.
61. Marie Kondo your room.
60. Make a care package for someone else.
59. Spring Clean.
58. Bike ride.
57. Call your local pantry/food distribution service, see what they need.  Get it for them.
56. Make natchos.
55. There are thousands of podcasts. Find something to listen to and go for a walk by yourself.
54. Play cards.
53. Pillow fight.
52. Draw.
51. Write down stories from your childhood.
50. Read one of those magazines you get and stack and don't touch until you get a new one.
49. Declare a spa day.
48. Now is the time to learn how to play the video games with your kids, it will be their revenge for all the homeschooling you're now doing.
47. Capture the flag outside.
46. Hide and Seek Inside.
45. Every kid eligible for driving lessons should get their 60 hours of practice in, one hour at a time.
44. Trim the hedges, grasses and pine trees. --Yes, aggression towards plants is cathartic.
43. Plant roses.
42. Stretch.
41. Do a chore every day to help the house.
40. Chess challenge. (Bragging rights are fun).
39. Pray for our nurses, first responders, and all affected.
38. Clean up your resume.
37. Clear out your paperwork.
36.  Get 8 hours of sleep per day.
35. Call your relatives.  Talk. Listen. Enjoy.
34. Use the good plates.
33. Shower and get dressed every day.
32. Poppers and sparklers.
31. Read aloud a book that hits multiple ages.
30. Watch a play or symphony from the Kennedy Center or Shakespeare Company.
29. Ice Cream for dinner.
28. Host a picnic outside.
27. Spend a whole day reading.
26. Now is a time for talent shows, things that allow everyone to show off.
25. Listen to/watch the mass.
24. Create a quarantine play list. 
23. Pitch a tent in the backyard.  It makes for another place for kids to hunker down with books.
22. Rollerskate/scooter in the neighborhood.
21. Reorganize rooms. 
20. Take a quiz on your geography knowledge each day.
19. Try to spend a meal talking in another language.
18. Puppet shows. 
17. Card castles.
16. Make cookies.
15. Learn how to floss (the dance) until you don't embarrass your children.
14. Create a video of your family for your extended family.
13. Yoga
12. Sunrise Chaplet.
11. Drums. Both actual and homemade.  Again, theraputic.
10. Make lists of what you will do when this is over.
9.  Phone others to see how they are doing.  Ask what they need.
8.  Declare a screen free day. 
7.  STEM night at home. --kids as scientists/engineers
6.  Olympics at home. --family athletics at their finest. (or not).
5.  Art Museum at home. 
4.  Iron Chef Home edition. (More like Chopped but you get the idea).
3.  Scavenger hunt --sometimes adults have to pull out the stops. 
2.  Clean.  (I didn't want to put it on the list but there it is).
1.  And the final guaranteed way to get your kids to find something to do, ask the big question, "Have you done your school work? Do you need any help?"   Clears the room very quickly.

Today We Had Summer

It's silly to say, when we've had bbq's and trips to the pool, park and mall, that today was the first day of summer.  I don't mean it by the calendar, or by some official date according to someone.  But today, was the first day, where the schedule did not rule over us or harangue us for not following one.  
We ate breakfast and I impulsively put a lock on the television.  So the kids played "school" and spent the morning creating a whole world with rules and goals, tasks and by lunch, they'd forgotten the machines that seemed so important in the morning.  

After lunch, I saw them go back to old habits, reaching for the Wii or the computer.  "Let's wash the car." I suggested.   Six kids scrambled to change into swimsuits, while the other three opted for reading books.  Sitting outside with a diet coke, I watched and played referee to maintain fairness with the two hoses.  

They spent two hours spraying the car and each other.

Drinks and ice cream, and the day seemed to still hold within it, endless promise.  There were still tasks to do, I folded laundry, we organized the closet, I paid a bill and arranged for tables and chairs to be ordered for the party.  We filled out job applications and a financial aid form for a college.

We still have band camp and exercise and the rosary to go, but the day feels able to hold it in a way yesterday, it didn't.  I couldn't tell you what we did yesterday. It sped by.  I know I took a child to the mall to buy an outfit, and I know I tried to write (and failed), but everything felt rushed and crunched. I could point to nothing at the end of the day that revealed a moment that one could hold as a memory.  

Sitting outside with chocolate ice cream and making chalk drawings on the driveway, felt like a perfect summer moment.  My daughter who originally refused to change into a swim suit, came in dripping, "Mommy, look how wet I got." Her smile stretched to the horizon.  

It's perfect even if it isn't perfect.  Because the kids eventually return again to the screens only to discover it's locked.  "But we'll be bored...."  they start.

"Yes."  I looked up from my book.

They don't understand. What they're really asking, is "Entertain me."

I want them to get to the point in summer, they create their own fun as a matter of course.  They can't do that without going through the dullness of boredom.  One begins creating a fairy house out of mowed grass and sticks.  Another begins to color.  A third opts to make cupcakes for dessert, and a fourth practices her bells.   One goes running.  Another draws a video.  Those left, began playing with toys in the basement.   They didn't need screens.  They didn't need entertainment.  They needed time and opportunity and the desire to act.  TV and phones and kindles and computers, blunted that desire to try and ate time.  

Welcome to summer.   And because I love them and want summer to stretch out as long as possible, tomorrow, I'm locking the Wi-fi.  

Necessary Summer Skills

Today, my children illustrated why school is necessary for at least 9 months of the year.

They developed an Olympic sport all their own, Samurai banana peeling. 

To explain, they toss said banana in the air and slice it in mid air with a butter knife. 

They then eat.

No one has been hurt so far, but 15 bananas have been thus consumed as a result of the momentary entertainment value.  At what price boredom?  Apparently 58cents a pound.