Safer at Home Order Journal #3

Dear Kids,

There’s a big ship at our port right now. It’s a big floating hospital that’s usually docked in San Diego or out on humanitarian missions around the world. They’re saying it’s the first time the USNS Mercy has ever directly served the US. It’s supposed to be here until September, and we’re hoping there’s a chance we’ll be able to take you to see it. It’s not here to take care of coronavirus patients, but to provide relief to local hospitals by taking on all non-coronavirus patients. We a little over a week into the safer at home order and two weeks into school from home, and cases are still on the rise. We’re at almost 2000 in our county alone.

It’s been a hard week, kids. It’s been one week since we’ve really been outside. Actually, I think the two of you have been faring better than expected. Neither of you has expressed an interest in going outside or going anywhere at all. Getting out for walks has been met with moans and groans. I guess I’m happy I’m raising homebodies?

This coming week is the last before Spring break. I had so many plans! Museums and an outing to see Dad at work plus Easter with your grandparents. Instead, we’re stuck at home. On the bright side, the weather is set to improve this week. Instead of rain and clouds, we’ll be getting temperatures in the 70s and 80s and plenty of sun. Maybe we can spend an early morning out running around in the park. Or not.

Week three of distance learning is about to start. I wonder what it’s been like for your teacher, little boy. They were told to plan for two weeks. We were given materials and a log. Now, the log has been turned in. Now, the format is changing. You’ll still have class with your teacher twice a week, but now your teacher has an educational plan laid out. You may whine and complain because you don’t want to do this for that long or that lesson, but, well, teacher says. I’m not in charge here, kid; your teacher still is.

As for you, my darling princess, you’re adjusting so well. I’m so proud of you. I know it wasn’t easy for you to give up some of my attention, but you’re doing really well. Self-amusement seems to be your favorite thing these days, and I can’t tell you just how much I appreciate it. Of course, it means there are toys all over the place, but at least you seem happy, and you still get plenty of time later in the day to sit on my lap.

Kids, we’re doing our best to take care of you and keep you engaged. It’s not always going smoothly, and it will continue to not go smoothly, but we want to thank you for being patient with us, for helping out as you can, and for being your goofy selves.

This past week we had our highest number of cases at over 400. I’m nervous about what this coming week will bring. The number of cases and deaths continue to rise, not just here but all over the world. Life is different for everyone. Trails, beaches, and state parks have been closed to prevent people from gathering. We’re stuck with staying in our own community. It’s hard dealing with being confined, not that we went out much before anyways, but, being under orders to not go out is kind of chafing. I wouldn’t say the walls are closing in on me, but I miss the days of saying it’s time for a walk and then we go out without having to worry.

Overall, there hasn’t been too much change. Places are closing to prevent gathering, cases are on the rise, but life for us goes on. We do school at home, we play at home, we run around at home, we don’t go out for ice cream or pizza anymore, we don’t get to hang out with family anymore, and it’s been a week since anyone except Dad has been in a car. More drastic steps have not been taken; we’re just quietly, silently, watching the numbers rise, waiting for our leadership to make new announcements and changes.

There is a lot of information about there, but it’s constantly changing. There are still so many questions. This is a new thing, and we’re learning what to do day by day.

I hope that you never have to live through a pandemic again, but at least we’ll all know what to do next time. I hope.

Love,

Mom