Grocery Reality

Several weeks ago, when we as a nation and a state were beginning to track virus infections more closely but before any actual rules or orders had been set down, my husband said to me, "You know, out of everyone in this house, you are the one who is most at risk for getting really sick with coronavirus.  You have asthma.  You should not be going to Kwik Trip to get the coffee; you should not be going to the grocery store; you should stay home.  I will go for those things."  I thought it was an unexpectedly thoughtful and gallant gesture, and I agreed.

(It should be noted here I have since finally figured out InstaCart and now order all groceries and supplies online.  They are delivered to the house, with no humans having contact with one another, and the bags and boxes sit outside-- to supposedly kill the virus?-- and everything gets wiped down when it does come into the house.  So, Todd's foray was a one-time-only event.)

The evening after he offered, off he went to the grocery store, with a brief list and our most helpful child in tow.  They were gone for FOUR HOURS.  I got three phone calls and three text messages with questions from the store.  (I also got a number of threatening texts from the child, saying how much she hated the experience and would never do it again.)  When eventually they returned, the shoppers came with only about half the items on the list.  Now, this was not entirely unexpected, because grocery stocks have been fair-to-middlin', low really, with limits on common items when they are available at all.  I put toilet paper on the list not thinking they would actually be able to find any, because there hasn't been any toilet paper in any store in our town-- or through major retailers online-- in weeks.  So, no, they couldn't get everything.  But, also, he didn't get everything because he said the groceries cost too much!

These are some of the items and their prices Todd found obscene and intolerable:

• cinnamon bread from the bakery ($4.19)
• bagged salad kit ($3.99)
• canned sports drinks the kids like (usually $1.29 each, but on sale for $0.80 each)
• deli meat ($4.99-$7.99 per pound)

Now, he did buy the drinks-- but just one per child... and he did buy other "outrageously expensive" things like fresh berries, but in the smallest pint (maybe half-pint?) personal containers.  On the other hand, he bought two, huge bottles of flavored cream for his coffee-- because they were buy-one-get-one free.

It was a full two days later when Todd said, "You know, I think I was just so shocked by the prices in the grocery store because I never go to the grocery store."  Gee, you think?

Stay At Home

 the cast of our portion of SOAR's online musical

We here in Krinkeland, along with the rest of our state-- and similar scenarios in most of the country and many countries in the world-- are currently under the governor's stay home executive order.  Anyone reading this is surely in the same situation, understands what is going on with the worldwide pandemic of COVID-19, also called the novel coronavirus; but I mention it for posterity, reference, to capture the moment in time, so we can all remember.  That's maybe the not-funniest joke I've ever written: Our world has been upset, upended, rearranged, altered in every way-- something none of us has ever experienced nor could ever imagine-- and it would be impossible to forget.

I am documenting here the current state of affairs in Krinkeland, and my personal thoughts on this stay-at-home order and its effects.  This is what I am thinking now, today.  Naturally, it could change at any time, particularly under different circumstances, such as someone close to us getting sick with the virus.  It is not meant to diminish or augment anyone else's views or experiences.  I do not expect others to agree with me or even to understand.  My views are uniquely mine, but I feel them in my bones, with blog post lines running through my head throughout the day, so I wanted to leave them here.

This situation has been incredibly difficult, mostly because of the unknowns.  Everything is unknown.  The number of cases, rates of infection, symptoms and transmissions are constantly changing.  At this time, no treatment has been approved and no cure has been found.  Since it was first documented late last year in China, this new virus has claimed the lives of thousands of people.  The epicenter of the outbreak morphed from China to Italy and now to the United States.

Last fall, I went back to work full-time, producing daily newscasts for one of the affiliate television stations in the Twin Cities market.  There are a dozen or more blog posts I could write on going back to a full-time professional life after 17 years of full-time mommy and very-part-time professional life.  This is not any of those posts.  The point is, I have been working a full schedule out of the house and some distance away, and trying (poorly) to also manage my former career in the home.  About two weeks ago, in the midst of trying to give accurate, compassionate coverage of this worldwide crisis, my employer began the process of transitioning many employees to work-from-home.  This, to my knowledge, had never really been done.  I started working from home just over a week ago.  It brings unique challenges, and the usual demands of the job continue, but I am managing them here, in my house.

You will also note from some of the photos, if you have not heard me wailing in the streets, our home is undergoing a massive, do-it-yourself renovation.  We began with what I thought would be a small (but messy) project about a year-and-a-half ago.  It spiraled... and I was wrong... Again, there could be so, so many posts on this, but I am electing at this time not to write about it.  I will say: I am an introvert and home is my happy place.  It has been an extreme toll on me-- on all of us-- to have a house in a state of disrepair that does not feel like home.  That continues to be the biggest stressor in our current situation.  We have had some sub-contractors work on parts of the house, but we cannot hire workers to come into our home at this time (under the order.)  There is also the uncertainty of finances.  Todd and I both went through major employment changes in the past year, and, while everything has remained stable for us so far, there is no telling what impact this virus will have on the economy overall and our case in particular.  Todd is working on the project as he has time, and with the kids suddenly having free schedules, we are all able to pitch in more... attitudes are adjusting and there have actually been moments of fun and joy as we all learn new things and work together. 

Ben doing a kids' and teens' workout on Zoom, in the midst of piles of home renovation materials

So, just before I got my work-from-home assignment, the children all found out they would not be going to school for the foreseeable future.  Again, the situation is fluid.  We just don't know.  But, they were kept home last week; this week coming up is technically their scheduled Spring Break (we were supposed to go to the Dominican Republic tomorrow-- canceled;) the following week the district and the private school are setting up plans to begin distance learning.  It's crazy.  

It is especially crazy for sweet Amanda in her senior year in high school.  Her music trip to New York was canceled.  The spring play-- she had the lead role and Elisabeth was also in the cast-- is canceled.  (And, as I typed this, I started crying... realizing I don't know when again-- if ever-- I will see my two oldest daughters perform on stage together.)  The state student council convention is put off.  Prom will likely not happen.  Who knows about graduation?  Our eldest is handling all of these things in style.  Each child had a set day and time to go to their respective schools and pick up materials and equipment, while not having contact with the other few scheduled students or teachers and administrators-- for everyone's safety.  Amanda came home from the high school with two comments: (1) "Mom, the ONLY thing I had in that building to mark my presence was the combination lock on my locker." (??????) and (2) "Mom, I did not hug Mr. B. (a beloved administrator-- she's in good with all the administrators) I did not even look at him, because I knew I wouldn't be able to control myself."  So, there's that.  In these times, she has been FaceTiming and texting with friends, trying to stay connected and relaxing.  They have all been relaxing, and I have been letting them.  This situation is bizarre and stressful.  And when do we ever have TIME?!

sharing puzzles and games--  because we've done them all-- with neighbors in the same boat

So, here is the thing: Being "stuck" at home with my husband, all four of my children, and our dog, is my dream come true.  It was not always my dream.  It is not always easy or fun.  We get on each other's nerves and it is well established in the universe that I have the shortest fuse around.  I am a creature of habit, and I miss the typical routine.  I really, really miss seeing our parents and siblings and nieces and nephews.  I miss my class at the gym.  I miss getting coffee at Kwik Trip.  I miss meeting up with friends... not that I ever did it very often, but, right now, I cannot.  But I do not miss the hectic lifestyle we had been living.  I do not miss the running, running, running.  I do not miss the constant calendar-checking-text-updating-dropping-off-picking-up-always-forgetting-something and never being able to give the people I love the attention they need and deserve.

This time at home, this time together is my dream come true because it has fulfilled wishes I long ago gave up on and some I didn't even know I had.  Have you seen that parenting tale that floats around the internet-- the one where the punchline is: You don't know it's the last time you're going to pick up your child, but, then, she's too big, and that time in life has passed?  (That one makes me tear up every time I see it, because it's so, too true.)  Well, I long ago gave up on setting a supper time and asking Todd to be home by that time.  He always had trouble meeting any kind of a time demand... and, then, the kids got so busy with their own activities, they were never all here at that time, anyway.  I had quit wishing for a quiet evening at home, together, because the children had so many commitments and it just never happened.  I quit even wishing for the rest of the family to be present at one child's event, because the others were always running in conflicting directions, and Todd and I would have to divide our attention to not miss too much.

I never could have imagined my senior in high school would be able to sleep as much as her body and mind needed, and then would get up and walk the dog or go for a bike ride.  I never could have imagined Benjamin would ask, "Dad, will you shoot baskets with me?" and Dad would drop what he was doing and head to the driveway.  I never could have imagined cooking three meals a day, having time to clean up and prep for the next in between, and then having all six of us sit down at the table and eat together.  I never could have imagined that I could come up from my basement hiding place to pour a fresh cup of coffee and help Madeline email her math test to her teacher.  I never could have imagined we would all spend Saturday night washing and sanding and re-staining baseboards to give them a fresh look-- but we did it!  The children play together, every day, all day.  The older ones taught the younger ones 500... they play kickball in the driveway... they bake cookies... they rearrange their rooms... they make fun of Mom and Dad-- but they do it together.

This time is a gift.  I don't want a gift at the expense of other people's deaths or suffering, struggles and pain.  This pandemic is horrific and each new headline makes it worse.  But these two realities can exist together.  We do not have the opportunity to trade one for another.  I may get new news that makes me feel differently tomorrow.  But, tonight, I am content.  My dream has come true.

a walk with my four kids and Jones-- a dream come true