quarantine chronicles, week 13

week 13 was the last week of school for the kids, and when that last day arrived, i realized i felt the same way that i feel on the last day of their summer break: tired. tired of arranging childcare day by day, tired of trying to keep them from academic back sliding, tired of breaking up fights EVERY.SINGLE.MINUTE. tired of forcing them to go play. just tired. i nearly cried thinking about another 3 months of the same thing, but without any school to structure their day, and all their camps canceled and their friends in quarantine...

look how big they are. ramona is going to be a fifth grader in the fall. james will be a third grader.


what are we losing by keeping them out of school?
what are we losing by preventing them from socializing and interacting with children?
what are we losing by perpetuating their loneliness and irritability by canceling all their childhood activities?
i know that we are trying to help stop the spread of a deadly virus, and i am participating in the self sacrifice of quarantine in the service of others. i know that a slower pandemic spread is what we gain. but what are we losing?

that fear dogs me, and under the pressure of this fear, we have started to let them play with friends, to wander farther afield, to take off the mask. i hope we aren't making mistakes.

so, here's what that tiring, bewildering 13th week of quarantine time looked like...

a new firepit in the driveway

and participation in the school sponsored mural on the square.

weekend homemade sourdough cinnamon rolls because...just because.

and fresh bouquets from the backyard almost daily.

handsome guy on the yard sofa at the end of a long weekend day full of yard work.

and then the monday morning hike, this time a longish drive to a shortish hike at natural bridge state park. we had the place to ourselves, and the kids didn't fight at all. it was beautiful and magical in many ways.

tuesday was the second-to-last day of school, and we biked around to our various school locations to pick up locker and desk contents. it was surreal.

the kids made name tags just in case the teachers couldn't recognize them with their masks on. this one felt so final: "james staple, 2nd grade, mrs lindloff" reads the tag. one last visit to lapham, one last climb in the favorite gingko on the front lawn. SIGH.....

back home, it was (and basically always is) pool and popsicle time.

that evening, we contemplated what it means for the school year to be "over" while wading around in the impossibly clear waters of lake mendota and cherishing that sunset.

and then, a visitor! ramona's teacher rode his bike to all his student's houses and give virtual high fives and physically distanced parting words and no-touch side-hugs of encouragement. he is truly truly a wonderful guy.

and then boom: schools' out, summer's in, and guess what kids! now that you've played with friends, you gotta get tested. so we went through the dane county COVID testing drive through, and there were high emotions, irritability in the face of anticipation, and hot sad tears of pain and anguish immediately after the swabbing. (i'm really just talking about james here. he is a FEELER. he FEELS all the FEELINGS.) look at his sweet tortured face here...

and look at the fear in her eyes, and the way they are holding hands in support, despite the fact that they spent the rest of the day fighting.

they're champs, and everyone was negative.

the first official day of summer break, david took the kids to devil's lake,



and then gave them a can of shaving cream because certainly isn't using it. they got busy making all kinds of a mess in the bathroom. they're all lucky i was at work that day.


and then on friday, we picked strawberries,

went to the inspection at the new house where i photographed some of my favorite basement paraphenelia while the inspector rattled off what would turn out to be a 57 page report on all the things that we gotta fix with the house. i decided to focus on how charming the decor is. it's a coping mechanism.

and then i made a cake. that's also a coping mechanism.