3/26/2020 of COVID-19 Home Life

Chel Owens

I began the day reading about the half-life of our current friend, Mr. Coronavirus. Honestly, I felt quite pleased to read their naming it “Coronavirus half-life,” since I wondered if that term applied to pandemic-level pathogens. It turns out that viable samples live longest on stainless steel and plastic; shortest on copper (MLM opportunity, anyone?). They also concluded that asymptomatic people can spread it…

Actually, I began the day the same way I begin every day lately: awakened by a beautiful, smiling, very hungry boy. His food meter runs out around 5 or 6 a.m., which isn’t bad for a bedtime of 11 p.m. Still, I’m not getting much sleep. I therefore spend the morning hours perusing Twofacebook (which, by the way, is much more interesting and more popular now) until I feel guilty, then venture into safer hobbies like Candy Crush. The article on half-life of a virulent pathogen was an odd peak in dormant curiosity.

8:00 or 8:30 or maybe 8:50 a.m. Feeling tired (go figure), I decided to nap. The baby did not decide the same, but I thought I could squeeze a half hour in before he got too noisy in his complaints.

9:00 a.m.: My teenager’s school called to let me know that he’s not turned things in.

9:00 a.m. also: My next-oldest son’s teacher e-mailed to let me know he’s not turned things in.

(For the record, my other children are completing their assignments.)

…I finally got the day going with the kids and schoolwork and feeding Baby (again) and feeding me, and even squeezed in a shower.

Phone’s alarm went off around 11:50 to notify me of a doctor’s visit for my third child. I alluded to this being Birthday Season. Three of my offspring go in for checkups, virus or no.

Which was my one social venture of the day.

The office door bore a sign advising everyone with cold symptoms to simply stay away (guess they didn’t read about asymptomatic carriers). The waiting room was empty. They’d removed their prize dispenser: a little toy machine that accepts special tokens for good patients. The front desk workers looked and acted about the same.

The backroom staff, however, all wore masks and gloves. They seemed tired, anxious. Or, maybe I seemed that way. My son’s doctor joked that she’d had to purchase scrubs again because she’d given hers away after medical school. So: masks, gloves, scrubs.

A bottle of hand sanitizer on the exam room table had a label on it: DO NOT STEAL MEDICAL SUPPLIES, with a description on the back about how it was primarily for use by the staff -yes, the staff wearing gloves and masks.

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We went home and washed our clothes and hands.

The rest of the day passed as usual, which means I spent it trying to keep them all on task, away from each other, and then still completing their household chores. We couldn’t do outside time on account of snow, so they were more in each other’s business than usual (read: fighting).

High point of the day: my teenager learned he needed to make a healthy meal. He’s a food snob. He disdainfully showed me the other students’ finished ‘meals’ of pancakes (from a mix) and spaghetti (from pre-made stuff). Quarantine aside, I think all of them do not know how to cook. Not my son. He surprised us with completely homemade beef enchiladas.

My pickiest eater raved about the meal. Of course, we didn’t eat till 9 p.m., but I’m certain the meal deserved the praise even without starvation.

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©2020 Chelsea Owens, including photos

35 thoughts on “3/26/2020 of COVID-19 Home Life”

  3. Stay safe! There’s a story hidden in “Do not steal medical supplies”… The doctor knows the container holds the cure for coronavirus, but only wants the nasty thieves of this world to survive.

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  5. We encouraged or allowed (not sure which) our daughter to take a ‘kids in the kitchen’ class when she was in grade school. It was a great experience, teaching some basics and building confidence. We had some late meals and lots of dirty dishes, but it was worth it.

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  6. I hope I have a teenager who wants to cook dinner for the family one day… At the rate my kids are going, one will create a video game that makes zero sense and the other will make us fat with cake. I’m also really glad no one in my family has to see a doctor until May. I’m scared of just poking my head out the door.

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    1. Cakes are yummy!! All of my kids cook or bake with me, to varying levels of talent and desire. I figure: at least they’ll be able to fall back on pancakes for dinner when they’re in college.

      And, amen to the scare. I’m hoping they Tele-doc or something for the others, though the baby needs vaccine boosters. 😦

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  8. these are strange times indeed, Chelsea; it seems you are kept busy with little time for writing, I guess; glad you found time to read my Drabble piece: much of my writing now reflects the new dispensation: scary but exhilarating times; like a good story, full of unexpected twists and turns 🙂

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  11. My first thought is that mothers are the glue that keeps the family together with all of the stuff they have to manage. I was surprised to hear that your children are still in school. Practically every school in the states have been closed for the past two weeks.

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  13. A slightly better day than mine which goes facebook, email, wordpress, facebook, premier tefl, whatsapp, facebook, gmail… and so forth.. I do snuck in a very early morning work in the forest away from everyone.. 😉

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