As I write this, I’m listening to my husband on a work call talking to his boss about setting up “A new normal” and I’m thinking, yeah, we’re definitely finding that.
So…guess what are aspects of my new normal.
- My husband vacuums.
- I don’t go out except for a walk around the block when it’s nice.
- My family zoom calls once a week, and it’s lovely.
- My granddaughter is going into NICU, and it’s awful.
- Everything has slowed down, and it’s weird.
Answer: All of the above – Yes, my husband is doing the vacuuming and I adore him for it. We’ve pretty much got the household chores split up, but honestly, it’s a good thing no one is allowed to come over because the house is a disaster. We’ve split up the chores by saying, we’ll get to it eventually and neither of us really does.
Exercise has been dropped down to walks. I used to go for miles but now with a slipped disk, I go around the block slowly. But it’s great to get out, and the fresh air (when it’s not sleeting) is awesome. Sometimes my cat even stalks us as we walk.
We’ve set up a family zoom call on Sunday. I’ve got three sisters with their own families plus adult kids, nieces/nephews, and of course, grandma and grandpa. Getting everyone on zoom is wonderful! We even play Codewords online. Plus, I’ve played bridge online with my in-laws. It’s really nice. And I never have to clean for them except for the tiny space around the couch!
I was beginning to think all was great. That I could enjoy slowing down, writing as usual (I’ve always worked from home), and then appreciating the slower nature of life in walks, great reading (I’m on the Great Library series from Racheal Caine and it’s AMAZING), and re-watching the Marvel movies. But as I write this, my daughter’s pregnancy is in danger. It’s not dangerous to her life, just the baby’s. The little one will be delivered much too early and go straight to the NICU. That’s bad enough, but usually, I’d be flying out to be with my baby. I can’t do much but get lattes for everyone and see that there’s food on the table when they come home from the hospital. Except right now, I will not risk bringing COVID into their home. Flying there would expose me, and therefore them. There’s nothing I can do but sit at home and wish I could be there. And that’s hard.
I know I’m not alone in this pain. Isolation sucks, and I feel for you and everyone who is staring at the same four walls and wondering how they’ll get through. I know the answer is: with love. Love to each other, love from each other. But sometimes, long distance hugs are not enough. They are however, something, and a little bit of love can go a long way. So from me to you – I LOVE YOU and IT’LL GET BETTER. I promise, it’ll get better.