It has been about 6 weeks, give or take a year or two, since we started lockdown, or what some more flatteringly call ‘sheltering in place’. The first couple of weeks were a novelty – making colorful schedules for each member of the family, embarking on homeschooling, printing out loads of fun activities for the kids every night, meal planning for the week ahead, cooking delicious meals, baking as math every other day, regular family movie nights, lots of bike rides… This time seemed like a gift and we tried to suck the marrow out of every day and maybe tried to sneak in some reading, writing and arithmetic on occasion. We had a large stockpile of groceries and library books acquired on the eve of lockdown.  There was little fear, lots of hope, boundless free time and freedom from schedules. Of course it was weird, and somewhat distressing, but it was rather novel and not too bad at first.

Then it was Spring Break and spirits fell. No trips. No fun places to go for the day. No bowling, no swimming, no parks. The early days of Spring Break were some of the worst for me. It felt like life was an endless reel of repetition and we would never again do anything but watch TV and chase each other around the back yard. I was crabby, the kids were crabby, everyone around us was crabby. If you think about this as a grieving process, a process of letting go of life as we knew it, this was when denial gave way to anger.  We went from “This is no big deal. It is actually wonderful to have more time to be with family. I am so enjoying this break from our hectic schedule.”  to “Why have they closed the playgrounds? How are children supposed to play? How dare they close schools? How are we supposed to educate these kids when we have work to do? Why can’t we go out to eat? Do you know how much work it is to feed this family every damn day? When is someone going to do something?! We can’t live like this. It is not FAIR!!’

And then schools ramped up their remote learning and suddenly there were Zoom meetings everywhere you looked and we were scrambling for enough devices to keep every member of the family connected. (And we are a family with a gadget dad who has iPads stowed on secret shelves and who could jump in for IT support.) This was a tough time for logistics. I became a personal assistant keeping my kids’ calendars organized, making sure they got to their meetings on time, troubleshooting connection problems, and figuring out sound and mute buttons for meetings. And of course, cheerleading to keep everyone motivated to go to meetings and get some ‘school’ done. We were so busy, that we didn’t really stop to take stock. Once again – like before COVID, or even more so – we rushed from one appointment/ class/ activity to another, with one kid needing to be on Zoom, and the other on Google hangouts, and me on email and dad on a conference call. And in between the laundry piled up, the dishwasher ran constantly, the house got messier, putting on day clothes became optional, showering happened less often… We were stressed out and exhausted.  Anxiety and depression set in.

It finally dawned on me that I had lost control. The kids were miserable, I was plagued by anxiety and fatigue. I felt like I was constantly trying to get people to do things they didn’t want to do, possibly even myself. We started every day with power struggles about which meetings they HAD to go to, and which homework or tasks HAD to be done today. Our days had been hijacked by well-meaning interventions and too many resources and activities and tasks!

So slowly, day by day, last week marked another change of direction for us. After yet another Monday that started with tears and a tenuous hold on sanity, I finally admitted that endless Zoom lessons do not work for my 5 year old. I told his teachers that we were bowing out, and got a most wonderful response. Basically, I was reminded that kids are allowed to be kids. Encouraged, I then made the call to pull some classes from my 9 year old’s schedule as well. Again, the teachers were understanding and supportive. This is not a time to push, it is a time to be kind to kids and understand that they, like the rest of us, are going through a lot. They too are grieving the loss of their lives, the loss of the only ‘normal’ that they knew, the loss of social time with friends, and being able to play without masks and gloves and endless hand sanitizer.

Only a few days into this new trajectory, we had the best day we have had in weeks. There were fewer tears and more smiles. My 5 year old arranged a ‘playdate’ with a classmate on Facetime and they chatted for over an hour. I have not seen him so animated in weeks! They talked about animals, moss, clowns, songs, and who knows what else. It was absolutely heartwarming to watch. My 9 year old had a games evening with his class and he laughed as he tore around the house collecting items for some sort of scavenger hunt.  We played, we drew, we listened to stories and we sat in the sunshine. The day floated by and for the first time in a while, I didn’t keep checking the clock to see if it was a decent hour to just turn on the TV. Not much ‘school work’ got done, but there was probably some math in our board game, there was a little reading, there was real connection with friends. Isn’t that a successful school day anyway?

And then, finally, we had the first Monday in a long time that didn’t make me want to tear my hair out. Rather than just survive, we actually enjoyed the day. I never once had that anxious panicky feeling or the sense that my boys were miserable and I didn’t know how to help. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, and some moments got a little near that dangerous edge, but overall we were productive and not stressed out and frazzled. We painted and read books and even figured out long division in between planning a pancake party and eating snacks in the sunshine.

I don’t know if I would call this the final stage of grieving. I am sure there are more ups and downs on this rollercoaster, but maybe we are approaching acceptance. But perhaps, more importantly, we have taken control of our schedules, even where there is still so much out of our control. At least if we can decide whether to go to a Zoom meeting or not, whether to focus on painting or writing, whether to do a baking project or go for a neighborhood bike ride, we are calling some of the shots. And if we are steering the boat, instead of just being tossed around by the tide of coronavirus unknowns and uncertainty, we feel better about being out on the stormy seas.

So, yes, we have quarantine fatigue, and yes, it has been a bumpy ride. But I now believe we can get through this, however long it takes. As long as we continue to talk to friends and family and give each other pep talks. As long as we can see a real human being, who doesn’t live in our house, from time to time, even if it has to be at a distance. As long as recognize that we are all in this together, but are all having very different experiences. As writer Damian Barr wrote on Twitter, “We are not all in the same boat. We are all in the same storm.”

We are again beginning to appreciate the time we have together. We are witnessing signs of Spring , and working in the garden, and seeing nature and her creatures reclaim their space. We are noticing how hard teachers are trying. We are grateful to be together, to be able to order paint and paper online, to be eating well. With a few special people supporting us, at some distance, we can do this.