Day 65: TV time

The girls were a mess today. Teeth brushing? Tantrum. Hair brushing, worse. Going outside? Terrible. Staying inside, earth shatteringly bad idea. Getting in the car? OMG we might die. Shrimp for dinner? No! Cous cous again? Ew. Wait it’s not cous cous, it’s quinoa? Also bad…

Just dumb stuff but All. Day. Long.

I am lucky to have a partner. He put them both to bed.

While I have soaked up the snuggles and taken advantage of the time we’re spending together–While I’ve sung the praises of the funny and the zen moments–I want everyone to know that around 4:30 pm almost every day I start looking forward to making dinner because that is when I let them watch something on tv. The other day they sang a Daniel Tiger song about how to calm down when I told them to settle down. So now I kind of think their pre-dinner television time is totally worthwhile part of the day for their development and not just for my sanity.

In other news I joined the ranks of the plant thieves this morning fulfilling my family legacy. With a clear mind I walked into the woods with a little spade and a little bag and dug up five lily of the valley plants and walked home and planted them in my yard…I don’t have any pictures of the crime. And I’ll deny it if you ask me about it.

In my defense, I only dug up the ones in the way where they were going to get trampled or dug up anyway the next time they clear the path. The ones I took were new and so were not yet blooming. We’ll see how they do.

Clearly I need more thrills in my life. It could be that quarantining is starting to lose its shine.

It seems now after 65 days that we aren’t actually dealing with a quarantine anymore as much as we are dealing with Life in the time of Corona. (Thank you Gabriel García Márquez. I promise to read Love in the time of Cholera now that I’ve made a pun out of the title and used it for my blog.) I’m not even close to calling this the new normal because as I’ve already established there is hardly a such thing as a normal anywhere, anytime but if there is a such thing as normal, it’s not this.

This is the mother of all transitions. We are in a situation that is so transitional that Spring- the most capricious and unreliable of all the seasons–this year seems like something to count on. Surviving and thriving in a time like this is a big deal for a girl like me. I have written many times about the fact that I am a Summer/Winter girl. These are the seasons that are clear—hot and cold. Period.

Historically I have felt the most secure and happy in the heat of the summer sun or the deadly cold, snow of winter. I know what to wear, I know what to do. No deep feelings that Fall always stirs up. No springtime twitterpation and jackets and peeling of layers of clothing for me.

But just like everything else right now, I’m evolving and weirdly this year Spring is really giving Summer a run for its money. What am I to do with summer when I can’t go to the beach? All the associations that make me love summer are shifting. Meanwhile Spring brings something new every single day. The transformation of the landscape happens before your eyes from the comfort of your own backyard or a short walk around the area.

And maybe that is one of the quieter lessons of this time. Previously we just traveled every time we wanted to be somewhere else. It didn’t matter if I liked summer here, because I usually summered in some other place that made me love summer. Now my perspective is coming from a grounded place, from home. That’s, well… That’s something new.

Speaking of new things–Little Bean, who for months has shown no interest in joining the ranks of people who wear underwear and not diapers, tonight, for the first time, said that she needed to use the toilet. That she in fact this time had not gone in her diaper and that she was ready to sit on the big potty.

Just when you think nothing is really happening, Little Bean goes and reaches a milestone. Just like that. In the middle of a pandemic.

Until tomorrow,

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