Bringing tropical dreams to life (in a manner of speaking...)

Sometime during the past Winter—even before the COVID-19 crisis erupted and trapped us all in our houses—I reached the conclusion that I needed a hobby of some kind. I had trouble figuring out just what that would entail, however, due to several factors. First of all, I am not blessed with any artistic talent. Whatsoever. Secondly, I don’t have the desire to make…stuff…just for the sake of occupying my time. In other words, unless I could identify a way to turn it into at least a marginally productive endeavor (like my friend who crochets absolutely adorable wee critter-themed hats for babies!) I wasn’t interested. All of this to say: I was stuck without a brilliant idea.

And then the stupid Coronavirus happened, and all of that went right out the window as I changed my standards to “I want something to focus on besides the current state of the world, that might bring me a smidgen of joy during these dark times.” Now, here’s where my memory gets a bit fuzzy, because I don’t honestly recall HOW I settled on the project I chose. Did I begin perusing craft websites first for inspiration? Or did the idea of painting occur to me out of the blue for some reason? 

We’ll probably never know, friends. But—given the aforementioned “extreme lack of intrinsic ability”--I very realistically chose to attempt a format that A) wouldn’t tax my meager skills; B) would require a fair amount of time and attention to complete; and C) would hopefully result in an attractive final product. In short, a paint-by-numbers kit seemed the perfect outlet for my unfulfilled, pandemic-fueled creative urges.

Thus I found myself scrolling through the available offerings, looking for something at the intersection of doable and not too frustrating. Fortunately, there were ratings, so I quickly filtered out anything not classified as “Easy”, which considerably narrowed the field. After that it didn’t take long at all to settle on a beachy landscape, since that pretty much encapsulates my notion of a Happy Place.

When my purchase arrived on the doorstep, I eagerly dug into the box, admiring the array of colors (Twenty. Five.), the delicate brushes, the enticing blank canvas just begging me to apply the vibrant tints. And then I leaned down and peered more closely…at the practically invisible numbers…printed inside the oh-so-faint lines…all crowded together in a dizzying hodgepodge of “What the HELL have I gotten myself into with this?” I mean, the very first thing I had to do before even dunking a brush one of the pigments was to pull out a magnifying glass so I had even a snowball’s chance of putting things in the (reasonably) right place, and/or staying (more or less) within the boundaries. 

And then, after I took a moment to snort in disbelief, and marvel at the ridiculous enterprise ahead of me (“Easy” my you-know-what, MICHAEL…), I gave it my best “Eh, whattya gonna do?” shrug, picked a spot to start, and dove into the fray. Now, given my well-documented penchant for order and organization, it should come as no surprise that my eyes immediately gravitated first toward the top left corner, an obvious choice for where to kick off all the art-making…hoopla and whatnot.

As it turned out, this proved to be an auspicious decision, because I quickly recognized just how…demanding…and challenging…my new leisure-time undertaking would be. The process became clear very early on: employ magnifier to check the minuscule markings, dip the tiniest brush, and ever-so-carefully dab the canvas—doing my best to respect the separation of sections and not obscure parts that should receive another shade entirely.

Although I realize that it sounds…tedious…I was astonished at how, each time I sat down to tackle another part, I found it both intensely absorbing… and yet somehow soothing as well. And I wish now that I’d clocked just how much actual time I spent working on it, because I also noticed that literally HOURS would pass while I was deep in the throes of indulging my super-secret…inner Monet…or what have you.

As the sessions piled up—because I discovered that I wanted to return to it every day—I also was struck by a few revelations of a personal nature…such as the fact that this particular activity caused some facets of my character to clash with one another. For example, my overriding impatience and constant desire to “hurry up” vs. being forced by the nature of the task to slow down, get into a groove, and take my time. Or having to accept, make peace with—and eventually even learn to embrace—imperfection as an intrinsic part of something like this…all of which flies in the face of one of the hallmarks of my personality…that would be the deeply ingrained Type-A tendencies that typically rule my life, for better or worse. “Do your best, fix mistakes if possible, then let it go and move on” became my mantra…at least temporarily. (No promises on whether I can make it stick long-term, but I’ll give it a shot!)

So, all of this brings up the question: did this experimental foray into an uncharted pastime unlock fresh depths of heretofore unknown patience and perseverance--or was I just too dang pigheaded to allow myself to give up? Eh, maybe a touch of both? All I can tell you for sure is that I took soooo much pride in seeing the progress as areas got filled in and the picture took shape, even though I was literally rendering someone else’s vision, with the help of pre-selected colors!

Overall, I found my initiation into the paint-by-number realm to be eminently satisfying…if also a tad grueling! Yet the eyestrain and neck kinks paled in comparison to the feeling when my efforts matched up to the printed picture of what the finished scene was supposed to look like. And even in the brief moments when it felt like a grind to keep plugging away at a particularly fussy part… I couldn’t have predicted how much I would enjoy it.

To sum up: taking something sort of chaotic and transforming it into an object of beauty, neatness, and perhaps most of all, joyful hues proved to be its own intoxicating reward! Hmm, note to self when searching for future entertainment of this nature: seek the rainbow! (Whatever that means…to be determined…look out, Michael, I’m coming back for you!)

Away with May (yay?)

So, Memorial Day has arrived, and…wait, what? Well %#$@, there’s another month gone in Coronayear. Anyway, at least the world didn’t actually end when NC lifted restrictions on 5/8, so there’s that. Then after 2 weeks of apparently meeting enough criteria to consider it moderately successful, this past Friday we moved to Phase 2, with businesses such as restaurants, salons, non-essential retail, and…tattoo parlors being allowed to operate at 50% capacity. (And not a moment too soon, as you all know I’ve been desperately waiting for the moment I could rush out and get some ink! Stop laughing—it could happen! Yeah, you’re right: maybe in another lifetime…)

Aaand within 24-hours the state health department reported the highest number of single-day positive tests since this whole thing began, so we’ll have to see how this goes. (I realize that part of this is due to more people being screened, which represents a step in the right direction, blah blah blah…I’m still not rushing out to…gallivant in public…just yet…) 

Meanwhile, here at Casa WestEnders, the crew has been carrying on, fortunately safe and well. In probably the biggest news of the week, Riley finished the last of his (four!) AP exams, and with that, effectively wrapped up his academic year. Because the remote learning situation forced the assessments to take place online at home, Riley thoughtfully posted signs on his bedroom door to alert the rest of us that he was busy with an important task and shouldn’t be disturbed. Except, you know, for the fact that Derek and I stood in the hallway checking them out and giggling each day--but the way I look at it, he brought that upon himself by being too clever for his own good.

Now all that remains is the one regular class in his schedule, and his teacher is so on top of things that she’s posted the content for the rest of the quarter. Basically, he can tackle it whenever he wants, at which point he’ll be totally done. When that happens, it’ll be “bye bye Junior year…hello, college application season?” Ay yi yi…at least we have a Summer hiatus before all those…shenanigans! 

And speaking of intellectual pursuits of a sort, while we’ve always been a family of bibliophiles, (yeah, I just like that word. So what?) with extra time on our hands during the Stay at Home period, we’ve turned to books even more, both for entertainment and to help pass the time. The only glitch in this scenario is that, of course, the libraries aren’t open for browsing or borrowing materials in person. Lucky for me, I’ve been able to snag a couple of titles on my Kindle, both through the ebook catalog and Amazon lending policy, but everyone else has kind of been scrounging for stuff to get them through, until we can happily peruse the aisles in one of our favorite local buildings once more.

As a result, in the interim I’ve probably purchased more actual novels in 2 months than I have in the past, oh, at least 5 years or so. Honestly, it’s become almost a problem behavior—I pass by the literature section in Target, spot something recommended by a favorite author, and impulsively toss it in my shopping bag. Or, a blogger I follow on social media helpfully reminds her audience that the prequel to The Hunger Games is coming out…and mentions that if you order it from [this website], some proceeds will go to support the independent bookstore she’s opening soon in her hometown. Click, done! Then there’s a trio of writers whose work I’ve appreciated in the past, who each provided a novella for a collection, and who one day announced on Twitter that signed copies were on sale at this [small publishing company] for a limited time. Ahem…add to cart, enter payment information: GIMME! But…it’s okay, I can stop at any time, I promise! (I’ll let you know if I need an intervention…)

Oh, and the point of all this--before I went off on a meandering tangent--is that one day Derek was lamenting not having anything to read, so I began passionately trying to sell him on one of my absolute most-beloved series from recent years. I described how the author weaves an intricate storyline, creates imaginative settings, and fills her pages with fascinating characters you can’t help but care about—whether you love or hate them. I concluded my enthusiastic spiel with what I thought would be an utterly irresistible hook: “And besides, it features on of my favorite warlocks of all time!” Which stopped the conversation dead as he threw up a “whoa” hand and commented, “I’m gonna stop you right there…that has to be one of the nerdiest things you’ve EVER said.” (Eh, I own that. Incidentally, he’s in the middle of Book 1, and reports that he’s enjoying it so far, so I feel like I rest my case. Also, I won…) 

In further evidence of living up to the aforementioned label, I may as well go ahead and confess that for Mother’s Day, I asked for one thing: a crossword puzzle book. I was very transparent with the Male Trio, to avoid confusion or mis-ordering: NY Times is too hard; USA Today is too easy; Washington Post Sunday is juuussst about right. (I also answer to “Goldilocks” on occasion…) And whattya know, they nailed it. One down, 149 to go…and I didn’t even have to peek at the answer key. So to sum up: amusing myself while keeping my brain from atrophying during the pandemic means COVID 0, Johna 1. (Ha! Take that, stupid virus…)

Next, we move along to the Goofball Brothers, who luckily have been a pretty reliable source of laughter while we’re all stuck in the house together. For example, one morning last week Derek blearily emerged from his bedroom and bumped into his sibling, who immediately began to make fun of him for his late rising, his disheveled appearance, his general lack of purpose in life, whatever. Derek of course grinned and took all of this good-naturedly, but after he’d woken up enough to fight back, he jokingly demanded that Riley go away…and make him breakfast.

Specifically, he requested waffles (the frozen kind, ‘cuz let’s not get all crazy here)…with fresh berries. Well…you send your younger brother, who’s just left off mercilessly mocking you, by the way—downstairs to the kitchen to prepare you a meal, with no oversight whatsoever…what could possibly go wrong?

Now, Derek doesn’t always--how can I put this delicately--“think things through”, until after he’s said (or done) them. So as Riley gave him a sly smile and trooped off to (maybe?) comply with his wishes, Derek’s mental process caught up with him, causing him to suddenly yelp and call, “Um…please toast them?” Yes, he was just starting to recognize the many, many ways this could turn into an unmitigated disaster. Yet when he joined us at the table a few minutes later and cautiously inspected his plate, he discovered…a lovely serving of multigrain waffles, topped with syrup and artistically covered with sliced strawberries. It was only after he’d taken a bite that Riley admitted his one unauthorized modification: apparently he’d added a drizzle of my honey underneath the fruit (which doesn’t sound bad to me, but prompted Derek to throw a faux tantrum--probably the intended goal, frankly…).

And finally, even though hair styling places are now permitted to welcome clients back, I personally am in no hurry to book an appointment. That being said…my bangs were sooo out of control that something needed to be done. Thus I brushed off my trusty scissors, tried to remember what my stylist showed me months ago when I told her I sometimes cut my own fringe, held my breath…and snipped. 

And you know what? For an emergency, temporary job, it’ll do. It buys me about a month before they start driving me nuts again, so by then, I believe things will have settled down enough for me to feel comfortable going to see a professional. The shaggy boys, on the other hand, are going to brave Great Clips sometime this week before they have to get updated passport photos taken…which will immortalize this pandemic look for the next ten years! So yeah, sending them to those who are trained and know what they’re doing, for sure!

So that wraps another episode of the Evolving Quarantine Gazette, my friends. Let’s all keep our fingers crossed that the coming weeks bring an increase in positive news, as well as continued health and safety to you all. Until then, I plan to carry on with the reading…crosswording…mediating of adolescent nonsense…and perhaps grooming (whenever necessary). Peace out!

Moving forward...with baby steps...

When NC moved to Phase I of the reopening process on May 8th, what promised to be in theory the most heralded--and potentially impactful--event of this past week turned out to be...largely underwhelming in reality. However, it did stir up a host of conflicting emotions, at least for me. One the one hand, it felt long-awaited and much-anticipated after approximately 2-1/2 years of lockdown.* (*Suspects this can't possibly be right...checks calendar to confirm...counts...SIX. WEEKS? Are you freakin' KIDDING me? Holy guacamole, the time/space continuum is all the way messed up right now, yeah? Sorry...back on topic...)

So there was palpable relief at some of the restrictions easing--if only because it implies a shift toward "normal", whatever that may mean (more on that later). However, the announcement also seemed to cause a not insubstantial amount of (understandable and appropriate, in my opinion) nervousness about the possible repercussions to public health and safety.

And what, you may wonder, actually happened when the governor officially modified the Stay-at-Home order? The short answer, for Team WestEnders anyway, turned out to be: not a whole heck of a lot, to be honest. I mean, the only retail outlets I've been frequenting during all this...nonsense...are supermarkets and Target, which were always accessible anyway. And seriously, who needs to buy clothes during a pandemic, amiright? (With the exception of obvious necessities like socks and underwear....which can be obtained online. Because we may be chill on the majority of the rules, but let's not go complete nudist, 'kay? Your colleagues/fam/friends on Zoom are supremely grateful...)

Like many other of my fellow humans, I've leapt wholeheartedly into the "24/7 leisurewear culture" and have no plans to transition back to...um..."dress-up apparel"...until absolutely required (and then, only grudgingly. I've gotten used to being soooo comfortable. Can we just agree that this will remain as part of the "improved 2020"? That'd be AWESOME...)

We did get to celebrate a belated Mother's Day by picking up dinner from one of my favorite local eateries, which as a small independent entity had chosen to shut down entirely for a while during the crisis, until they felt it was worthwhile to resume service. Pretty much as soon as they started cooking again, I was able to fulfill my 2-month craving for their super-yummy nachos, so muchas gracias to Carrburritos for the comida deliciosa!

Next on the To Do List, the only thing that we jumped to take advantage of was the fact that the T-Mobile store was allowed to return to seeing customers, albeit with the updated sanitization and distancing protocols in place. This came at a very fortunate time for us, since we'd been pushing our 2-3/4 year old phones to continue functioning for as long as possible before spending money for upgrades...but the boys' and mine had been growing more and more rebellious, until I'd finally had enough and was ready to make the switch.

Of course, this involved a trip to the actual brick-and-mortar building, so we could meet with a representative in person to discuss our options and facilitate the transfer to the new models. Now...in truth, three of us could have done this remotely, and been completely fine. But Husband...well, let's just lump this in the category of "fears change" (which he freely admits, and is utterly unrepentant about)...so rather than having to be his tech support staff, we dragged him along to talk to an expert. (I even offered him a pass--since he doesn't use his phone nearly as much or as intensely as the rest of us, and he wasn't having any issues with it--but he was afraid of having to go back alone at a later time and pick one by himself. Siiighhh....I almost got away with it....)

So I secured an appointment via their online portal, and at our pre-arranged time, we pulled up to the door, were greeted by a friendly employee...and informed we'd have to wait outside until the people currently being assisted finished up and left. Okay, we get it--until an HOUR later, when we were still hanging out on the sidewalk, and I was ready to raise a ruckus. (Memo to T-Mobile: are you aware of how scheduling works? Because trust me, this is NOT a good example. Signed, Disgruntled Client.)

Frankly, if I'd been there solo, I would have left long before that ridiculous amount of time had passed, but since I had the Male Trio to entertain me, it was bearable. (See "Mask 101, What Not to Do".) It also gave us a chance to address a subject that called for some group input: what to do about our planned Summer getaway. You see, I'd gotten an email from Expedia earlier in the week, letting me know that the carrier had cancelled the flight I booked in January (before the viral apocalypse), and moved us arbitrarily to a much earlier departure (which I had specifically ignored when searching, because, you know, getting up at 5 a.m. to rush to an airport does not put us in our happy zone).

I wasn't thrilled with the alteration, but I noticed (in the wee tiny print below the much more prominent red updates) that due to the global....situation...they were allowing refunds...which NEVER happens. This provided some interesting food for thought, since for once we'd have a zero-penalty escape clause, to reshape our vacation in whatever form felt right during this (I'm gonna say it) unprecedented period.

When I broached the topic with my gang, it came as no surprise that they very quickly expressed a unanimous desire to cancel our original expedition. Because this is how their scientifically-leaning brains operate, they backed up their subjective statements by citing reasonable concerns (that I share, incidentally), such as uncertainty about whether the things we want to see and do will even be open for sightseeing, and "being trapped for multiple hours with hordes of other travelers inside a flying germ box" (I...the token dramatic member of the group...MAY be paraphrasing...).

Thus it was concluded that we'd postpone Arizona for now--but I also asserted that, especially given the stress and anxiety and aggravation and...all the other stuff this year has dumped on us so far--we needed to substitute SOMETHING for our family jaunt. "Even a road trip," I commented encouragingly, "We haven't done one of those in a while!" Riley instantly jumped on this and exclaimed, "College visits! What have I been saying all along?"

Well whattya know...he's not wrong, folks. He'll be a Senior next year (chokes), filling out  applications in a matter of months (gasps), and is considering a couple of schools he wants to either see for the first time, or re-tour now that he's closer to the point where it actually matters to him (Ooh, now we're talking about the FUN part--count me in!). Once the committee--er "family"--put our minds to it, an itinerary formed fairly easily...with obvious question marks such as "exact dates they'll allow prospective students on campus" to be filled in when such information is determined.

But the tentative format will include stops in Greenville (Clemson), Atlanta (Georgia Tech), and Gainesville (University of Florida)...with other cities and/or attractions thrown in along the way to keep us amused as we see fit. Now all we have to do is wait for things to calm down, COVID-wise, so we can get out there and, I don't know, invade the South, or whatever! (Wait--in a totally friendly fashion! You know what I mean...)

And there you have it...even if nothing else happens during this somewhat unsettled Phase I, at least we should have fresh, well-behaved phones...and a get-the-heck-outta-Dodge excursion to look forward to in a few months or so. Yay for....rolling with the punches? Sure...and don't we all deserve a big old cookie for getting to this point? Resilient...and sugared up--now that's what I call a Win/Win!

My circus....my monkeys

For today’s Quarantine Report, I’ve selected a few choice tidbits from the Male Trio’s highlight reel--focusing on some of the preposterous ways they’ve been lightening the mood and dispersing the gloom around here…simply by being their (mostly lovable) goofy selves.

For example, now that the college kid is home from SC and back with us 24/7, Riley has volunteered himself as an...interactive alarm clock, if you will. You see, left to his own devices, and with remote learning mostly being “on your own time”, Derek defaults to getting out of bed somewhere in the neighborhood of 11:30…or so. On the other hand, the high schooler—who typically rises before 6 to commence his first workout of the day--deems this unacceptable behavior which must be fixed...by whatever means necessary.

Thus the following ritual has slowly been honed over the past month, until it’s become the standard by which you can set your watch: no later than 10:45, Riley barrels through his brother’s bedroom door, bellows a greeting (more Drill Sergeant “rise and shine you lazy slug” than friendly “good morning wake-up call”), and flings open the curtains to brighten Derek’s hibernation cave. Oh, and if these measures don’t provoke enough of a response to satisfy him, Riley will even resort to the drastic extra step of yanking off Derek’s covers. So to sum up: he’s startled out of sleep…suddenly chilly…blinded by the unexpected burst of light flooding his space…and insulted, on top of all the other indignities.

Now, you might think being roughly dragged from slumber like this would spark some kind of vicious (and perhaps deserved) retaliation…and in most cases, it probably would. (Ahem…like ME, for instance. If anyone ever tried that s…tuff, consequences would be swift and merciless. Just sayin’…) But Derek…just blinks sleepily, yawns, stretches, and starts talking to his sibling, as though this were a completely natural way to kick off one’s day. (Once again, thank all the stars above for my one super-laid-back child!) Then, once he feels that Derek’s thoroughly roused enough to leave his cozy lair, Riley returns to his own activities and allows him to carry on in peace.

Meanwhile, in my “office”, which happens to be situated right next door to all the… hullabaloo…I glance at the clock and go, “Huh. It’s already that time again? Alrighty, then--seems like a good point to step away from the computer and take a quick coffee break.” I’m telling you, it’s that predictable…and if you really think about it, a public service as well! (Not entirely sure Derek would see it that way, but whatever…)

If I’m being honest, many of the boys’ exchanges these days involve some level of good-natured taunting—even if they don’t usually start out that way. Such as the other day, when they were in the kitchen chatting with one another while Derek foraged for a nosh (every 2 hours, also something you could set your watch by, if you were so inclined). In the middle of the conversation, Derek jokingly lobbed a pretzel rod over to Riley. Since he hadn’t requested this and didn’t want it, Riley gently tossed it back. But rather than just, you know, catching it and either eating it or replacing it in the container, Derek opted to try batting it sideways into the sink instead.

Well…you can only imagine how spectacularly this FAILED…resulting in an impressive explosion of crumbs and shattered pieces that spread and landed all over the floor.

Of course, the dorkasauruses instantly erupted into hysterical laughter. After my initial shock in which I stood paralyzed gaping at the…shrapnel…I marched over, snatched the bin of pretzels away from Derek, firmly replaced the lid, stowed it in the pantry…and ordered him to his room, AFTER he picked up each and every stray bit of food from his mess. (Hey, if you’re gonna impersonate a 4-year old…)

He at least had the grace to hang his head and attempt to appear contrite—although the smirk he couldn’t quite wipe off his face somewhat negated the effect. However, as soon as I turned my back he tried to fake-stealthily sneak a few more, to take upstairs with him during his banishment. When called out, he protested that he needed the…pocket pretzels*…to get him through. (*NOT. A. THING.) I wasn’t going to permit the crumbly snack in his carpeted domicile anyway, but this became an absolute taboo when, as Derek was passing his sibling to make his way to his time-out, Riley shot his hand out to smack him...and in a stunning display of pinpoint accuracy...scored a direct hit on the hidden treats... thereby reducing his not-so-secret stash to powder. (And to top it all off, Husband wandered in after hearing the uproar, settled himself against the counter and brightly inquired, “Ooh, family meeting? Did I miss anything?” Siiiighhhh….Bless. Their. Hearts…)

That brings us to what we’re going to call the Great Breakfast Debate of 2020. For background, 

Derek has been eating Dinosaur Egg oatmeal every morning for years.  (I know, I know, 20-going-on-toddler. What can I say? It makes him happy…) However, I recently noticed that he wasn’t going through his current box very quickly, so I asked if he wanted me to get more. He considered for a second, then replied, “Nah, I need to branch out.” So when he was picking up a few things at the store for us, he got himself some frozen waffles.

When he was almost done with these, I offered to replenish his supply, but asked if he’d mind the multigrain version, rather than the less nutritious kind he’d bought. He gave me a slight side-eye and huffed, “Ugh. You’re gonna make me eat healthy?” Then his expression took on a sly cast as he added, “Okay, then…can you also get me Nutella?”

Mind you, this is by far not a new debate, and he’s well aware of why I stopped purchasing the hazelnut spread a looong time ago: A) because it’s a sugar-bomb and B) um…I was incapable of staying away from it when we kept it within reach. So I groaned inwardly at the potential impending controversy, but countered with what I thought was a perfectly reasonable alternative, “How about I find you some chocolate…peanut butter?” Frankly, he probably recognized that was the best he was going to get out of me, because he considered only a beat before agreeing to the terms. (And when he tasted what I purchased for him, he proclaimed it a worthy substitute…even if not a...blood-glucose-spiking thrill ride. [I'm paraphrasing, obviously.] So…we’ll call that a Win?)

This was not the end of the story, though—the next thing I knew, Husband had jumped feet-first into the…Battle of the Morning Meal. I entered the kitchen one afternoon unprepared for the 2-pronged assault led by Derek, who cheerfully decreed that he and his father “wanted control of the cereal decision.” Given the fact that I do approximately, oh, 98% of the grocery shopping for our little band of….well, mostly ravenous dudes…I didn’t even pause before shooting back, “Fine! You’re welcome to be in charge of everything you guys eat; I couldn’t care less!” (Hmm...overreaction? Yeeeaahh…perhaps the ongoing pandemic is taking more of a toll on me than I realized…deep breaths in and out…phewwwww….)

This seemed to alarm Derek, who threw up his hands in a placating gesture and rapidly backpedaled, “Hey, whoa, let’s not get too crazy there. We’d just like some sweeter kinds mixed in once in a while.” When I turned to glare at him he grinned, spread his arms wide apart and added, “You know, a big old box of…Crunch Berries!” He knew this would push my buttons, which of course is exactly why he said it, but I couldn’t help myself from snapping, “Aaargh! So what you’re really telling me is that you want JUNK first thing in the day?”

Fortunately Husband spoke up at that point, inserting his Voice of Reason in a calming fashion, “All we’re saying is that we’d like an adjustment on the…fiber-to-flavor ratio!” Oh. Good. Grief. It’s a losing campaign here, folks: either they’re being over-the-top ridiculous…or they wield logic and science at me. Please send help ASAP…preferably in the form of another X-chromosome to join my Girl Squad! (Anyway, they haven’t been out scouting yet, so I don’t know what they’re going to come up with; but as promised, I’ve washed my hands [Ha! Sorry...] of the whole affair. So there!)

And finally, speaking of absurdity: sometime this past week Riley wandered into the kitchen and blurted, “Guess who just changed their sheets for the first time in 2 months?” With the smuggest possible expression, he dramatically used both thumbs to point at himself and answered his own rhetorical question, “THIS guy!” Which naturally cracked his brother up…and caused me to drop my forehead into my hands…as I’m sure he 100% anticipated and intended.

So in conclusion…when this whole lockdown-thingie eases, and it’s safe to resume some semblance of our previous lifestyle, I’m gonna need a different kind of recovery…one in which I self-isolate for a couple of days…ALONE. Maybe a solitary room…at a spa somewhere…for a weekend. (Right, not realistic. How about a shed in the back yard? I’d totally settle for that…) For now, I’ll continue my role as moderator of (faux) adolescent squabbles…overseer of culinary choices…and general wrangler of Team WestEnders. Yep...I’m gonna need a NAP! (Aaannd maybe some of Derek’s special cocoa/peanut butter combo….shhhhh! Let’s just keep that between us, ‘kay? Thankyouverymuch…)

Keeping calm (eh, mostly) and carrying on...

Hey, fellow humans out there on Planet Earth (waves hand in a vague but super-friendly manner towards all of you)! According to the useless cardboard indicator still hanging on my kitchen wall, it looks like we made through the first full month of the alternate-reality video game we’re all trapped in together…Pandemic World (1-star, NOT RECOMMENDED). At this point, don’t you think we deserve to be honored with a freakin’ Black Tie Gala to acknowledge how we’re maintaining our all-out assault on the vile microscopic enemy?

Hell yeah, we do! Except of course without the, you know, “proximity to other people”. Ooh, and who wants to dress up these days—or frankly, is even sure if anything still fits after 6 weeks of excessive sheltering in place—and eating? So yeah, comfy clothes only. (Fine, deck yourself out in a coordinated outfit of black sweats if you want to feel all “glam”. The rest of us will set the bar for…let’s see…yep, ”clean” should do it…) And makeup? Pshhhh, that’s sooooo 2019, amiright? Okay…where does that leave us? Right: a VERY festive global Zoom call to congratulate ourselves…probably on the couch…definitely in leisurewear…100% with snacks. Whoo hoo, who’s in!?

Anyway, speaking of celebrations that have been verrrry different in COVID-Era, like Derek a couple of weeks ago, I kicked off another year around the sun…quarantine-style. Now, I don’t usually indulge in a whole lot of hoopla on my birthday anyway, but this particular milestone obviously was even lower-key than the norm. Not that there weren’t lovely surprises—such as the completely unexpected giftbox, filled with delicious fresh fruit and trail mixes (some of which included chocolate…I mean, do they know me, or what?), sent by my fabulous northern fam.

Working hard!

Or the hilarious cards the Male Trio cooked up, filled with sentiments such as “We’ll even let you be in charge of the house today” (Riley), “Eat all of the kale chips and almond butter your heart desires (Derek), and “Here’s a ‘never been outside, untouched by other human hands, hasn’t been exposed to Coronavirus’ card to wish you a germ-free happy birthday!” (Husband) (Ahem…bless their hearts…) As for the traditional “dinner of choice”, we found ourselves in an unusual--yet fortuitous--position: all 4 of us in the mood for pizza at the same time. We will take that win, y’all…YUM! 

Next, we have several other entries in the category we’ll call…Where the HECK is the Time Going? First, I got an official email notification that, because in-person meetings are still suspended, this year’s presentation for Rising Seniors would be offered in a virtual format, with the slides and videos viewable from your very own home computer. It took me a second of staring at the screen to realize…they were talking about Riley…who is now mere weeks away from finishing 11^th grade and (GULP) moving on to his last year of High School. What. The. WHAT? I mean, I’m fully aware of this, obviously—and have for quite a while. But the processing of it is going to take… a bit longer, apparently.

And...hardly working!

Thus he and I agreed on a time to sit down and go through it together, just in case there were any new pearls of wisdom to be gained since Derek navigated these waters several years ago. And this was an admirable proposal in theory…except that what actually happened was that Riley and I settled ourselves into position near the office computer…and Derek wandered in behind us as well. Evidently he had nothing better to do at the moment than hang out with us and A) make light of the college application process (“Hey, I got in; how hard could it be?”); B) disparage the information provided (“Ha! Who cares? I never did figure out how to log into my Naviance account!”); or C) distract Riley by chatting at him on a completely unrelated topic, thereby ensuring that his attention wasn’t on the material, even a little bit. (“College football, my Stats homework, what to eat for snack, blah blah blah” Siiiighhhhh…)

Oh well--while this session didn’t turn out to be particularly…educational…I can always go back and watch/read stuff later if necessary. Or better yet, if questions crop up, I’ll assign the Junior to figure stuff out and report back to me—now that’s a plan!

And then, there’s the college dude, who’s been managing his messed up Spring semester in online-remote-learning fashion—accessing his instruction modules, recorded lessons, and live lectures when required, submitting assignments, taking tests, and whatnot. In this novel setup, his LDOC (cool kid speak for Last Day of Classes. Or maybe only Moms use it…I’m not really sure, to be honest…) came and went without fanfare.

Now he’s in the midst of Final Exam Week…albeit in its modified format. But here’s the truly astonishing part—to me at least: on Tuesday, when he finishes his last assessment…he’ll be halfway through his stint at the university. I…can’t even begin to understand how this happened. (Yeah, yeah—I’m speaking metaphorically. Because trust me, I have the receipts to demonstrate his progress through each of the first 4 semesters, but I’d rather not dwell too much on that, thankyouverymuch…)

Even more mind-blowing, according to his transcript, he’s technically a semester ahead of his scheduled graduation date, since he came in with some credits from AP classes, carries a little extra in his major due to the labs associated with science courses, and hasn’t had to drop anything so far (knocking on wood, etc.). Not that we’re pushing him to finish up early, or anything crazy like that, but Jeez, Louise! 

It’s all just…a bit overwhelming, is all I’m saying. So I think what I’m gonna do to cope with all this…emotional distress…is put all that aside for the time being, step away from the Disney+, change into some Outside Pants (elastic waist soccer-type gear—very practical right about now!), and go for a nice, long stroll in nature. Besides, that way when I get back I will have earned some of that nuts-and-cocoa trail mix I mentioned (It’s…um…chock full of antioxidants! Therefore it’s definitely health food. This logic is infallible--fight me…) Uh-huh, that’s what we’re going with…can we all agree that sometimes denial…and its equally esteemed cousin, avoidance…really are the BEST self-care? Yay!

On the plus side...

Well, friends, it looks like April is (checks calendar, not trusting self to accurately nail down slippery concepts like "dates" anymore) yep, almost over...which means we've just about survived another month of this...coronavirus-takeover-situation. So first let me shout from the rooftops: YAY, US! For following the rules required to keep ourselves and others safe, for doing all the difficult, not-fun things experts say will help us eventually thwart the dastardly wee bug, and mostly for hanging in there and getting through each day as best we can: one ginormous global socially-distant totally safe virtual high five coming out to each and every one of you. 

Of course, given those factors I just mentioned, it’s no surprise that…not much has changed over the past several weeks...and frankly, life isn't all that exciting right now. Therefore (partially in order to bolster my own sanity, tbh) I’ve decided that today’s topic for reflection shall revolve around “tiny bright spots”--things that recently have provided just a smidgen of joy to counteract the onslaught of constant dire news and chilling statistics which have unfortunately become such a part of our daily existence.

First of all, some light and fluffy entertainment (because who doesn’t need a dose of THAT right now, yeah?). Remember that book of brain teaser puzzles I bought several weeks ago? The boys happened upon me peacefully sitting in my office one day, concentrating on filling in some of the answers…and instantly wanted a piece of the action. (As competitive young men will do. It's a game? They're IN! Wait, is there a prize?) So, picking through to identify some of the more...generationally relevant ones...I challenged them with quizlets like these:

1.   AHAB: initials of 2 famous people; one killed the other

2.   Guess the item based on 3 clues: In 2008 many baseball fans were disgusted when a photo surfaced depicting Yankees 3B Alex Rodriguez using one of these as a napkin. In the film “National Treasure”, Nicolas Cage uses one of these to determine the time of day that a shadow cast from Independence Hall would point to a secret location. As of 1869, this is the highest-valued unit of currency in U.S. circulation.

Ah, nerd family bonding time…can’t beat it!

And speaking of wholesome amusement, one diversion that luckily has been available to lift one’s spirits is the fabulous “get the heck outside” option. With the arrival of glorious Spring weather, running, walking, and biking have provided a welcome escape—literally—from the indoor doldrums. Even better, the nearby Fleet Feet came up with a brilliant idea for some special Runner’s Boxes, filled with goodies centered around a theme, and offered with contactless curbside pickup. 

Needless to say, the java-related one practically screamed my name. And as an unexpected but thoroughly welcome surprise, when I went to the store to retrieve my treasures, I was met by none other than the woman in charge of the Wednesday night pub runs I regularly attend (pre-and-post-pandemic, naturally). So, awesome shirt/locally roasted coffee/workout fuel/mug…plus the opportunity to chat with someone I obviously hadn’t seen in a while (appropriately separated)…that’s definitely a Win/Win!

Next, related to that whole notion of “leaving the house”, it seems like the Male Trio—who mostly have been coping admirably well—lately might be developing a bit of an…itch to wander, so to speak. For example, Riley earnestly approached me the other day and announced that he would be making a trip to the grocery store, “to give you a break, because you do it all the time”. After approximately 1.5 seconds he wryly added, “And besides, I need to get out for a bit.” Oh trust me, I understand, child! 

Then there was the every-3-weeks-or-so expedition to Costco, a chore which routinely falls to Husband; however, this time he invited/coerced Derek to join him for the company…and probably moral support, as one can never really predict what that place is going to be like on a so-called normal day, much less during an extended episode of Hoarders: the toilet paper and hand soap edition. Upon their return they reported that all of the mandated public safety measures were being properly implemented, and their experience was…fine. (Which in the grand scheme of things can absolutely be classified as one of those “small victories”!)

This leads me to something completely silly  that nevertheless made me happy last week. Due to a combination of factors—such as having to buy extra food with both kids here and all 4 of us at home more than usual, thereby racking up the Harris Teeter Fuel Rewards points…driving less because of so many things being closed…and almost unbelievably low gas prices…I was able to completely fill my tank...for under $20. That just pleased me waaaay more than it should have, but like I said, ya gotta focus on the positive wherever you can find it at the moment, amiright?

Aaannnd, what lockdown post would be complete without an installment of the esteemed reality show we like to call The Continuing Adventures the Goofball Brothers. While they do still have assignments to keep on top of, they have most assuredly found themselves with an unprecedented (GAH! Sorry!) amount of free time not typically afforded them during the academic year. As such, they’ve been taking advantage of the bonus togetherness in a variety of ways. Such as storming into my workspace and staging a mock argument at top volume, in order to get me to stop what I’m doing and yell at them to knock it off. Siiighhhhh…. (I’m just kidding—they only do it when they’re sure I’m not, you know, on a video call with colleagues or something. So it’s kind of a hilarious break from whatever mundane task I happen to be doing at the time…but I’m not telling them that, okay? Heaven only knows what they’d do with actual encouragement to be all dramatic and whatnot. Let’s just not go there…)

And finally, when they’re not busy harassing me, they’ve re-instituted a heartwarming practice: collaborating on the PlayStation, mostly with Lego Marvel games. Well…on second thought, that makes it sound far more...harmonious...than it often turns out to be. In practice, although they’re supposed to be cooperating as a team to defeat whatever villain is currently menacing their characters, what actually appears on the screen seems to involve a great deal of...running amok, chasing each other, sabotaging one another’s efforts…and very little triumphing over evil and whatnot. Oh, and copious amounts of trash-talking, barking advice (which is overwhelmingly ignored), and exasperation when whatever flimsy, incomprehensible plan they invented inevitably fails to attain their goals. Yeah…it’s a real HOOT, y’all.

Anyway, it's been very satisfying to refocus my scattered pandemic-ridden mental space and share a few smile-inducing moments that have cheered Team WestEnders of late...so thanks for tagging along. And who knows--perhaps May will bring better tidings in the planet-wide fight to crush COVID. Let's all keep our fingers crossed...and in the meantime, stay safe and well, amigos!

Growing Older (but not up?)

This week provided a stark lesson that—even in the midst of something like, oh, let’s say “a global pandemic” that feels like it’s been hanging around forever at this point—time does continue to march onward…whether we’re quite ready for it to or not, in some cases. Specifically, I’m talking about the fact that my oldest child reached somewhat of a milestone birthday recently, as he turned 20…left his teenage years behind…and entered a brand new decade of his young life. 

Being the one who, you know, brought him into this world and all (and given my well-documented penchant for emotional melodrama when I feel the situation warrants) I of course experienced a moment of reckoning, in which I may have shrieked “HOW can this BE? My baby is all grown up!” while clutching my heart and gasping convulsively. (You’ll no doubt be relieved to hear that this was a very brief period—we all got through it and moved on. Translation: Derek snickered appreciatively at my histrionics, everyone else smirked and shook their head resignedly…and I eventually came to grips with the situation.)

Putting all of that aside for the moment, we had to figure out how to properly celebrate…as best we could…given the current state of the planet (gestures wildly to indicate “out there”). As it turns out, this actually could be viewed as an unexpected boon for Derek, depending on how you look at it. I mean, last year he was away from home on his special day for the first time in his life. So he got cards in the mail…and I sent him a box of treats…but then by the time his semester was over, April was a distant memory. In short, not much hoopla for becoming 19.

However, in 2020 coronavirus has him hunkering down with us at Casa WestEnders, so we decided to try and make it as memorable as possible. This began with squeezing some gift ideas out of him—a task that’s notoriously difficult with either of my sons. To try and head off the inevitable procrastinating that’s a hallmark of his ultra-laid-back personality, this time I gave him a hard deadline. I used the excuse that, even though we’re spoiled by Amazon Prime, these days the 2-day shipping we usually take for granted is anything BUT a given (for frivolous items outside the “hand soap and toilet paper realm”, at least).

So naturally I STILL had to stalk him at the exact cutoff hour I’d designated, and demand his Wish List. Even then, my concentrated efforts weren’t enough to guarantee smooth sailing, since I placed one order with multiple items, explicitly stated that they should consolidate and send them together…and yet they trickled in over the course of the next week. Oh well, I tried!

Next, he got to choose what he wanted for his birthday dinner. Not surprisingly, he opted for steak (which Husband hardly ever cooks) and potatoes. My department is desserts, so I asked what he’d like in terms of cake-like-delicacies. With no hesitation, he stated, “Chocolate, with buttercream icing.” But after a moment’s additional thought, he tacked on, “Just…nothing weird, okay? No kale, or beets, or beans hiding in there.” There was even an adorably hilarious scene where he and his brother—brimming with mock indignation--searched the kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers, peering into the refrigerator and freezer, looking for potentially offensive produce that I could hide in otherwise innocent pastries. 

I feigned outrage, as if such a treacherous thought would NEVER occur to me…but what can I say? The kid’s had 20 years to be a guinea pig for my little tricks—er, “the lucky recipient of my (mostly) delicious experiments”--so yeah, I promised him no vegetables lurking in his baked goods (note the very careful choice of words. It will pop back up later…mwah hah hah!)  

Another one of our traditions is to allow the celebrant to pick where we go out for a restaurant meal. (Which for us is a rare occurrence, lending it all the excitement and anticipation of some kind of super-fancy event. Like I’ve said many times, we’re a pretty easily amused bunch…) Obviously this year we’d have to modify that plan a bit, but there are still plenty of local eateries offering takeout, so at least we’d get to savor food prepared by someone else, even if it was in our own living room. When I posed the question to Derek, I’d hardly gotten the words out of my mouth before he blurted, “Chipotle!” Alrighty, then…nothing too lavish for my very down-to-earth dude, which actually sounds about right…so, burrito bowls all around! (Yum!)

Oh, and the aforementioned sweets? I produced the devil’s food delight, as instructed (from a box, but he knows that, so it’s all above-board), with homemade frosting. And everyone proclaimed it utterly scrumptious…so I felt confident enough to reveal my secret AFTER they’d tasted it and formed their opinions without bias. You see, while watching Food Network one day (as one does), I saw a chef introduce a 2-ingredient baking hack, making a cake by adding ONLY a can of pureed pumpkin to the dry mix, to replace the eggs, water, and oil. I remember being skeptical at the time, but also deviously excited to test it out on my own beloved fam.

Yeah, yeah, the boys were predictably incensed—I had to endure an interlude of yelling, in which they castigated me for going behind their backs yet again, aired their grievances about “this is why they can’t trust me”, blah blah blah. Yet after they’d had their 5 minutes to vent (thank goodness, as always, that they have stereotypical male temperaments and get over things so quickly) I calmly asked them if they’d been able to tell that I snuck in a hidden ingredient. They grudgingly admitted it had gone utterly unnoticed. Follow-up question: was it tasty? They conceded that it was.

So to sum up: I didn’t lie, exactly (since pumpkin is a FRUIT. Sure, it’s a technicality, but I’m clinging to it as my ironclad…and only…defense…). Plus, my teensy…subterfuge…didn’t affect your enjoyment of your birthday goodies--which need I remind you were crafted with love by your mother. Ahem…why don’t we just call this a Win/Win, and as your favorite Disney princess would advise us, “Let it Go”, okay?

Anyway, well-intentioned deception notwithstanding, I think we managed to do a pretty decent job of making the kiddo feel extra-loved and appreciated during his bday week o’fun. And hey, he’s got magnets and a mobile charger for the car he regularly drives…although he can’t actually GO anywhere….but he can enjoy the heck out of his new video games while he’s stuck in the house. Besides, we’re still nibbling away at the leftover cake, so all-in-all, a successful kickoff to the first full decade of adulthood. (Gulp…nope—on second thought, pass the sugar and leave that twisted path for another post, at a preferably muuuch later date! Whew!)

Making it up as we go along, folks...

Like everyone else alive on Planet Earth during the COVID Era (because I think we can all agree that by now, regardless of what the actual calendar might say, the "real feel" of this crisis can be measured in years, rather than months, and therefore deserves its own, named period in history, yeah? You know, like the Jurassic..or, um, The Dark Ages....) we here in Casa WestEnders are striving to figure out ways to keep ourselves busy and entertained. And with so many options off the table due to social distancing recommendations and governmental shutdowns, we've been forced to get creative with our fun. (Chilling with friends? Nope! Going out to eat? Nuh uh! Group workouts? Fuhgeddaboutit! Zoom calls with fam? Siiiighhhh.....fiiiiinnnnne, I loathe the phone, but if it's the ONLY way to keep in touch...) Fortunately, it turns out we're pretty easily amused, as evidenced by the following activities that occurred over the past week:

Because the...reading...must go on (that's the saying, right? Eh, in this house it is...) I used some of my extra spare time to figure out how to borrow ebooks from our local library. Now, before you think "Jeez, lady, are you a total luddite? Get with the 21st century already!" let me explain. If I remember correctly, I tried this a couple of years ago, and at that time Kindle was being very snooty about cooperating with any platform other than Amazon--thereby rendering it difficult or impossible to actually connect with an outside institution and download a title.

For whatever reason, however, they seem to have gotten the heck over themselves, and in a few short minutes I was able to browse Chapel Hill's collection, select a novel, check it out, choose my preferred format, and have it sent to my tablet. (Yay!)

While I was on a roll, I also used my membership privileges to access the Kindle Lending Library and snag a backup bonus story, just in case. And then, because you can never have too many things in your TBR pile, as I always* say (*never once have said in my entire life before now), I got all fancy and contacted a nearby independent bookshop for a couple of tales I've had my eye on, which they kindly arranged to be shipped directly to my house. I might have gone a little overboard, sure...but at least I'll be well-read? And kept out of trouble? (On second thought, let's not get crazy and expect too much, okay? I honestly can't make any promises at this point...)

As for the boys, they've resorted to various methods to keep from going stir-crazy. One of these, for example, involved the basketball hoop in the driveway, combined with the set of miniature football goalposts...for some kind of nonsense competition that seemed to include lots of attempts at trick shots...and copious amounts of trash talking (and laughter...and a little blood--but whatever, everyone survived. And I soooo wish I had photo documentation, but I don't, so you're just gonna have to take my word for it...and visualize the ridiculousness. I trust you to use your imaginations....).

For a less boisterous endeavor, Riley began tuning in with me during the nightly Jeopardy broadcasts, although he wasn't that engaged in the beginning, due to the questions not being particularly age-appropriate. BUT, then the College Tournament started, which was thoroughly game-changing. Suddenly he was able to join me in the time-honored tradition* of shouting out answers, congratulating oneself for possessing arcane tidbits of information....and, of course, complimenting, reprimanding, and/or taunting the players for their performances. (*as it was done by my family during my formative years)

Eventually, after we'd tempted Derek to get in on the circus--um, "contest"--with the assurance that "they usually have sports stuff, so you'd totally clean up!" he deigned to sit in on a show one night. And participated by yelling random facts, usually obscure and unrelated in any comprehensible way to the category at hand. Well...frankly I should have seen that coming. Suffice it to say he's been eliminated from the proceedings, presented with his lovely parting gift* (*a swift kick in the rear on his way out), and dismissed from the living room. Ha!

In a completely different realm of media distraction, we've had to compensate for the unprecedented (sorry to beat a dead word even further into the ground) lack of televised sports. It's gotten to the point that even Derek--my diehard fan of all things involving grown men (or students) throwing, catching, hitting, dribbling, running with, or shooting a ball--huffed out of the family room one day complaining that he was fed up with ESPN's coverage of...nothing but LeBron James and Tom Brady, apparently.

Fortunately, there's Disney+ to take up the slack, so we've been able to give some favorites another screening (mostly Marvel...and Frozen 2). And this past Saturday night, because he couldn't get together with his buddies like he usually would, he hung out with the 'rents and we all enjoyed an evening with...Zombieland. (What? Are you suggesting that a darkly humorous, profanity-laced, gruesome film about a post-apocalyptic world overrun by the undead doesn't constitute wholesome family bonding? Eh, it worked for the 3 adults in the household [Riley, who would have hated it anyway, having gone to bed already]).

Speaking of the pals from whom they're separated, I've witnessed both of the lads using technology to their advantage during the pandemic. When I pass by either of their rooms during the day (or even late night, for the nocturnal college kid) I might hear Riley's voice chatting on the phone with his AP Chemistry lab partner, or Derek FaceTiming with his North or South Carolina crews. So at least they're getting to stay connected to a certain degree--and yes, I've taken the opportunity to remind them how indescribably lucky they are to have this capability...because if this whole situation had happened while I was in school, in the desperate age before mobile networks or the internet...there'd be a whole lot of sitting in their rooms staring at the walls and interacting with only us...and believe me, NONE of us would come through that in very good shape.

In the midst of all this, Easter tried to sneak up on us--but luckily I caught it in time, and made a stealth run to Target to procure supplies. Now, I'm well aware that my sons are technically waaaayyy too old for the Bunny Basket Bonanza...but this year, in particular, it just felt like the occasion provided us with a bona fide excellent excuse for some joyful surprises...and candy...to lift our spirits. So I chuckled my way through the shopping excursion (6 feet away from every other customer and employee at all times, naturally).

With wild abandon (I'm out in public--wheee!) I tossed must-haves (Hazelnut Spread M&Ms, anyone?) and fortuitous finds (stuffed amphibian for Riley, who's been a frog aficionado since he was a wee tot...and Olaf pillow pet for Derek? Are you kidding me? My self-proclaimed Disney hype-beast who's seen both movies more times than I have? Clearly these are No. Brainers.) into my cart, relishing the idea of setting them out after everyone went to bed, since they weren't expecting anything at all on Sunday morning. Oh, and since we have so many more leisure hours at home these days, to spend with each other, I ordered a couple of diversions from Barnes & Noble (contact-less curbside pickup FTW) for us to try out in the coming quarantine weeks.

And you know what? The Male Trio were just as pleased and startled as I'd hoped they'd be. Like a true college dude, Derek immediately broke open his jelly beans, proclaiming them a lovely breakfast. Riley happily relocated his new mascot to his desk, to keep him company during work times. Husband put forth a reasoned argument that Oreos were somehow a health food and could therefore be consumed without guilt in the a.m. (which no one was going to refute anyway). And I had somehow managed to overlook buying a spare bag of the Dove dark chocolate eggs, so I purloined a few when people weren't paying attention to me. (Shhhh! I'll get some on the clearance shelf next time I go out, and no one needs to know, 'kay?)

So there you have it: our clan's attempts to stave off cabin-fever, avoid getting on each other's nerves TOO much, and manufacture recreation. The way I see it, we might eventually end up slightly smarter...with encyclopedic knowledge of the Disney film catalog...and vastly enhanced IT skills...but also a sugar addiction that needs to be addressed...and/or scars from an ill-advised DIY driveway sportsball stunt. Stay tuned!

Week...oh, whatever...is anyone even keeping track of time anymore?

Well, here we are again...pretty much maintaining the holding pattern we've been in since, oh, what feels like the dawn of time--or, you know, "early March". While I'm ecstatic to report that Team WestEnders made it though that aforementioned hellmonth in good health, like everyone else at this point I'm weary of the (unfortunately necessary) Shelter in Place restrictions hovering over all our heads like an unwelcome raincloud waiting to shower us with...malignant droplets of doom...or whatever.

But at least in challenging times like these, it's comforting to establish and stick to a routine of sorts, right? I mean, that's what the "experts" who have our "best interests at heart" are all yammering about in an effort to "keep our spirits up" and "bolster our mental health". Okay, then, let's give this a whirl...looking back on my past week as a newish member of the WFH Club (which has grown exponentially since this all started--waves enthusiastically to other recent inductees), what kinds of patterns emerge?


Sometime between 6:45 and 7:30 a.m.: (reluctantly opens one eye, peers fuzzily at clock) "Hmm, what day is it? (thinks hard, may or may not come up with correct answer) "Fine, let's narrow it down: is it a 'coordinate outfit, brush hair, slap on enough makeup to transform from zombie to live human'...situation?" (if no: get up, but remain in pjs; if yes: put in enough effort to not frighten colleagues on potential Skype calls)

5 minutes after rising: All. The. Coffee. (and scroll through emails, social media, virus updates, signs of the apocalypse, blah blah blah...)

This stage lasts right up until the next one, which is: "Damn it, how is it 9:00 already? I'm supposed to be logging in now." (throws on some athleisure wear, concealer, and blush. remembers at the last second to ponytail the messy tresses)

9:05-ish: (connects work computer, refreshes Outlook, despairs at the inbox full of COVID-related material...decides it's a fabulous opportunity for more java)

9:10: (shuffles into kitchen, stops short at the unexpected crowd, brandishes empty mug whilst glaring daggers at these blasted interlopers...ahem..."beloved family") "Why is everyone here right now? Where did you all even come from? Don't you have anywhere else in the house you could be? Most importantly, get out of my way, and make a path to the Keurig!" (note to self: apologize later for morning tantrum. blame under-caffeination...or corona...or any other excuse that occurs to me...)

9:30: "Hey, breakfast time!"

9:45--noon: (performs job tasks in home office, where laptop happens to be located in front of a window...which leads to alternating bouts of productivity...and distraction by the ceaseless wonders of the Great Outdoors) "Ooh, one of the hawks just flew by! And what was that? Eh, just a squirrel. Wow, the leaves are really starting to come in now. Hey, that bush didn't have flowers yesterday! There goes a beautiful butterfly! Lots of pollen on the porch; maybe I should take a break and go sweep..."

12:00: "Wouldja look at that, it's time for another meal, yay! Wait a minute...what do you MEAN we're out of produce AGAIN? Didn't I just go to the supermarket yesterday? And the day before that--whatever the hell day that was?" (I swear, I live with a buncha savage...bunnies!  Or something like that...clearly I'm losing it...)

12:15--2: (navigates various interruptions by coworkers) "Hey, Mom, are you going to the grocery store later? Can you add something to the list?" (Riley) "What are you DOING in here?" (Derek, poking his head in while I'm practicing Spanish on the Duolingo website during some downtime) "Here, look at this joke so-and-so just texted me! Isn't that hilarious?" (Husband)

2:00: (does a final message cleanup, jots down a quick To Do List for tomorrow--wait, is tomorrow another weekday? Oh for the love of...(checks calendar to confirm). Yes, right: things to tackle on what I now understand to be WEDNESDAY...aaannnd, shuts it down for the day.)

2:15: "Whew, what's next?" (glances at Garmin) "I only have...1,500 steps so far? How is that even possible?" (oh, yeah: not doing laps in the Family Medicine building to get to the restroom, break room, other people's cubicles, etc.)

2:30: "Guess I'll be taking a quick stroll around the block to boost that number to a more reasonable level." (ventures out into neighborhood, enjoys fresh air, activity, and seeing other folks doing the same thing...from a safe distance of at least 6 feet--quarantine strong, baby!)

3:00: "Yep, I've totally earned a nap." (whether or not this is strictly true, I go ahead and lie down for an hour anyway, because...I say I'm allowed, so there.)

4:00: "That was exactly what I needed. Maybe take a peek at the old internet and see what's new? NOPE, that's quite enough of the hellfire and brimstone calamity and catastrophe thankyouverymuch." (opts to peruse funny memes, gaze at spectacular nature photos, and watch video clips of adorable baby animals, small children's antics, amusing comedians, and talented singers instead. feels blood pressure and heart rate decreasing, muscles unclenching, and breathing deepening while doing so. aaahhhhh.....)

4:30: (gathers courage and centers oneself for...a brief expedition to whatever emporium o'food I haven't been to in the last couple of days, to see what salad and fruit items I can scare up before the next dining hour. It always feels like a game of roulette these days (but definitely not in the entertaining way) to see what they're going to have, and what will have been cleared from the shelves by panicked hordes of stockpiling shoppers. Whoo hoo! Said no one...

5:00: (some kind of workout, for the obvious physical benefits, of course, but also to release some heightened anxiety, nervous energy, and pent-up restlessness from...so much extra time spent in my house...surrounded by my cherished clan, to be honest. Sure, I love them dearly, don't get me wrong--it's just a LOT for all of us, right now!)

6, or 7, or...whenever: dinner, hopefully using some of the fresh vegetables I was able to obtain from my quest. (Or you know what? I'm an adult, I can have dessert first if I dang well please. Cookies or carrots? Depends on the day, frankly...)

Post meal--around 10: mindless TV...read...until boredom sets in..."I should do something creative!" (wracks brain to figure out what that might be...and whether I in fact have the motivation and/or brainpower to attempt a craft or puzzle)...50/50 chance I give up and return to one of the previous, less demanding options.

10--11: "Shoot, I'm still short of my daily goal--I need more steps!" (because even a global pandemic is no excuse for laziness. KIDDING! I don't really believe this...I'm just SUPER stubborn and refuse to cut myself any slack, so there's that...)

11:30: "Oh, thank heavens, it's bedtime." (brain: HAHAHAHAHA! Oh, honey, we call these the very special Spiral Hours, where ALL of the unhelpful worries you've managed to squish down into a harmless, manageable ball during your conscious time can take advantage of your vulnerable state, grow huge spikes, and attack your weakened drowsy defenses! Soooo, let's have some F-U-N with that, shall we?)

Some unknown time: (falls into slumber at last)

And then...suck it up, buttercup, 'cuz we're gonna do it all again! Wheeeee!

Now, please keep in mind that all of the events portrayed here--while taken from my current reality--are as always subject to my own particular brand of exaggeration and embellishment. So yeah, the takeaway is we're fine, coping as well as can be expected...and doing the best we can to nurture a sense of humor about the whole...state of the world, and all. Fingers crossed that April treats us a whole lot better than its predecessor. Until then, I leave you with these words of encouragement: if you can just manage not to confuse the "anything goes" with the "must wear pants" days, then you are KILLING IT, my friends!