Week 3: Quarantine

As I sit down to start this, it's Wednesday. Only Wednesday.

It feels like an entire week has passed already, and yet...only a few days.

(What are weekends anymore?)

It's a strange feeling when you're at home all the time and don't have a strict routine, isn't it?

I'm used to being a stay-at-home author/mom these days, as my eldest is six and my youngest two, but before this pandemic, we would (on a weekday) get up around 6:30, get out of the house by 7:30, drop the oldest at kindergarten. Then I'd take my daughter out on errands or we'd go hang out at Starbucks and I'd try to squeeze in a little writing time while she played on the iPad or read books or played.

Sigh, I'm getting a little nostalgic just posting that!

Life has changed quickly in a few weeks, hasn't it? We had no idea that schools would be closed when we started Spring Break the second week of March. But then that first step of closures being extended until the end of March, and now to the end of April. I'm not expecting to go back, and we've officially started homeschooling with our great teacher's lesson plans. I'm sure she'd do better at this than I am, but we're hanging in there.

I do really miss those times of meeting my dad at the grocery store and killing time in the toy aisle with my daughter. And yet...I am realizing just how much time was "wasted." Granted, it was never wasted when I spent time with my friends and family, and I have friends at Starbucks as well. But it seemed I had so much time in my days that I just spent being busy.

Being home nonstop has reminded me that I spent a lot of time making myself busy before now.

I'm slowly rediscovering my enjoyment of being home. Of just being still.

"Be still and know that I am God." Psalm 46:10

God calls us to be still. And he never suggests (or forces) something without a really good reason why.

Lately, I've been trying to find the joy in being "still." In partaking of my children's days. Perhaps it's nothing more than putting down my phone for an hour or simply engaging in their play. But I am trying to be still and accept this situation.

This week my son has really been realizing just how different things are. He's six, and we've been officially homeschooling since Monday. But he's been grieving. Grieving the inability to hug his grandparents, to go to school, to leave the house...

We all are grieving these things. Yes, it's temporary, but it's still a loss that we should allow ourselves to grieve if we feel the need to do so.

Photo by Roberta Sorge on Unsplash

Don't be ashamed of your emotions during this time. It's so difficult that we have to take it day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. We can face everything from disinterest to terror to peace during this time. There really is no rulebook for what's going on in our heads, bodies, and souls right now.

As I write this, I think of Winterberry and the journey I brought her on from the only home she knew in her palace to slavery at the Magister's. How horrifying to go from the world you knew to a completely unfamiliar world where you don't know the rules and you don't have any understanding of how things work and you can't protect those you care about.

And I feel like that's what we're doing right now. We're writing our own rulebook. We're trying to survive—literally—and doing the best to protect those around us. This is a strange time. And if you need help, reach out to those around you, or to the friends you've found online, or even me. There are so many people out there who are willing and able to help you. You are not alone, for we are in this together.

Kelsie