We got this. We can do this. Yesterday was … how do you say … hard. I think the vast amount of information I had been taking in finally caught up with me. That and coming to terms with the loss of privacy or alone time hit me hard yesterday. But today is a new day and already I’m feeling better.

Yesterday started like I’m sure every day will start for the foreseeable future: the kids were awake before me checking their email and getting a jump start on their studies for the day. Or pinteresting. It’s hard to tell. I made my coffee, did the dishes, sat down for a minute and then freaked out.

Aaron has been able to set up an at-home office here so he’s generally only a hundred feet away, in the tinyhouse in our backyard, and he was getting our daughter signed up for some online learning, among other things. Like I mentioned earlier: the vast amount of information I had, to this point, been digesting really hit me. Add to this the onslaught of new accounts to sign-in to, more online systems to learn and oversee and the general sense of overwhelm I started to feel: this is what broke me.

I politely asked for everything to please stop. As in, stop sending me invites to new things. I cannot with the amount of tasks at hand, give a shit about a family slack channel. Also, please leave me alone. We don’t have any carrots in the house and how am I supposed to make the lunch I planned without a carrot to chop?! WE NEED CARROTS.

I went there, guys. I went dark. Everything fell apart over a slack channel and carrots. There were actual tears. And then we made lunch (a new, different lunch plan) and the kids were getting along and I announced we would be LEAVING THE HOUSE TO FIND SOME NATURE FOR A WALK.

It. Was. Awesome. So we hiked Sanctuary Woods (with most of Holland) and driving away from the house in a car felt like rebelion. It was naughty and I wanted the chance to explain to everyone who saw us that we were just going to a park, away from people, to be outside.

After our hike, there was more school work to complete and then a lot of down time until dinner. I put my headphones on and disappeared for a while. I started drinking wine and feeling better and texting family and friends.

The kids learned how to play Jacks and we ended up watching old home movies for hours past their bedtime, which is relative at this point. They finally went upstairs and Aaron and I sat there staring at our phones with a mindless show as background noise. It was a day. And we got through it.

Yesterday was the first day of my kids’ schools being canceled. We have one in the public school system (high school) and another in a private school (middle school). Our high schooler doesn’t have any instruction from school yet, school just … stopped. And our middle schooler has a school-issued laptop where emails stream in with instructions and google-classroom work and the engine keeps moving.

I decided to pick up my camera and document the everyday moments of the quarantine. I’m immunocompromised as a type 1 diabetic and we’re staying on top of the information available. We had expected school to be canceled and in my 24 hours of prepping mentally for it, I had grand ideas of schedules and menus and regular exercise. We did go for a walk yesterday, I did make a bunch of food, as planned, but I spent a lot of time on my phone digesting new and ever-changing information. I listened to hours of podcasts with headphones on in the same room as my children while they did school work, called friends or read. We played a game, Aaron went to the office and recreated an office here at home. At one point, I took a shower.

And then it snowed.

We watched a movie together before sending the kids to bed and all my anxious energy finally had a place to go: up and out of me. Suddenly I realized that I would have to repeat today all over again. And again. And again. I haven’t had any feelings of panic about this situation until last night. It sounds irrational when I write it, and selfish. And yet, here I am. In day 2 of some weird version of Ground Hogs Day.

The upsides are this: I’ve always wanted to try homeschooling my kids. At exactly these ages, which is weird and awesome and I will rock Home-Ec like no other. Personal Finance, Credit building, How to obtain a mortgage, buy a house, balance a checkbook. I’m here for it. We’ll plan a garden, bake bread, and dance in the living room.

I haven’t decided how yet but I want to use my huge picture window in the front of our house as some sort of message board. “Free bread” “We’re all in this together” or just opening the blinds and turning all the lights on when it’s dark outside and slow dancing. A moving picture for whoever needs one that we still get to be held, loved, wanted, needed and together.