Pandemic Diaries, May 2020

 Early in quarantine, I jotted some notes:

May 9

Life as a parent of two  young children while a pandemic rages on around us: Well, this is not how I thought I'd be spending our spring and summer with a new baby.

Today: L goes to the farmers' market to get produce and plants. If this were last year, next year, we'd all go--I can see it. The preschooler running up to the granola seller to get a sample, then begging L for a bit of pastry, asking me to buy him a popsicle. Me, wearing the baby on my chest, perhaps stopping to nurse or to sit and eat my own treat or sip my coffee. L darting through the market because he hates standing still, choosing plants for the garden and veggies to eat. We meet friends, we wander blissfully.

But, no.

Today, he went to the drive-thru farmers' market pick-up. He had ordered ahead, reserved a slot. Mask ready, he loaded the groceries and went to get other produce. He washes his hands in the kitchen sink when he returns, carefully counting and lathering thoroughly with the castile soap we made a few years ago. The kids and I stay home, yet another day out of many. It's now and tomorrow and many months ahead of us.

May 10 (Mother's Day)

Today's human contact: Zoom barre3 with my local studio. I don't like my video to be on when I'm working out, so I wait until the end to turn on my camera, to connect with the studio owner or others in the class. It's Mothers' Day, and I relish the hour where I can move my body freely, even as I am still recovering from the baby's birth.

My present from L was not only a nice bag of goodies from the local bookstore but also a way to support that bookstore in a pandemic, which is a sign of how we are making choices these days, trying to keep our communities alive and thriving.

I had a long video call with my mom, and it ended with us talking about racism. I have hope that maybe she won't vote for [UGH], maybe. Or at least she doesn't buy into his crap. I can hope, which is all we can do in these horrible, strange times.

May 16

One day, I couldn't get the image out--a cup, filled up with steaming coffee; a waiter coming by to pour. They did not have gloves, a mask, a fear of a virus (or of transporting one). No, just the simplicity of pouring and drinking, paying, tipping, enjoying.

So today, I ordered coffee and pastries from one of my favorite local coffee shops for pick-up [ordered and paid online! the convenience!], the pleasure of a well-made cup of coffee ours once again. We took it to The Depot to enjoy in the spring sunshine. Though a bit chilly, I was warmed by the pleasure of such a small semblance of normalcy. The baby sat in the carrier he's been in just a few times; the preschooler ran wildly through the grass and clambered on rocks, pointing out the water, a ball he found, the fish, the bubbles.

I know we must continue to isolate, but we are seeking out safe ways to feel less restrained, to lighten the weight of isolation and loneliness.