What day is it again? Blursday.
Do you know what was the first thing that came to my mind when they decided to shut down schools back in March of 2020?
At that time, my two and a half-year-old was obsessed with calling out the names of any motor vehicles he saw drive by us in the streets. He must have thought to himself, “damn, where the heck did all the school buses go?”
Then my anxiety kicked in. Literally fifteen seconds later. A two-month-old baby, a toddler, a wife in the fourth trimester, all cooped up 24/7 in a two-bedroom apartment with no end in sight. I really started hating the number two.
Plus I’m borderline claustrophobic; to the point where I pack shorts in my carry-on luggage so I can change before boarding an airplane. Why? You ask. On the off chance that I get stuck in a middle seat, or even worse, the window, and these two humans next to me are taking so much personal space, that I can’t escape and my jeans begin to cut off blood circulation to my legs.
Yeah, I’m a little fucked up, I guess.
Anyway, I’m not trying to play comparison games here with this pandemic craze. I know people have had it worse; some have had it better. We can all remember Ellen Degeneres’ little theatrics early on. Oh, poor Ellen.
I remember trying to make sense of this so-called “new normal” and all I can think about was calling it a “new balance.” (There’s a missed marketing opportunity you laggard sneaker brand!)
Work from home.
Zoom school.
Faceless delivery.
Neighbors doing HIIT workouts on their balcony’s.
Weird shit was going on everywhere.
My wife was so convinced the world was ending, she bought twenty, one-liter bottles of water.
I recall trying to find creative ways to keep my oldest busy and blind him from the sudden disruption from his normal life. I’d take him down to the mall and let him ride his scooter down the five-story vacant parking lot. You know, normal day-to-day stuff.
And then things started getting stranger. People starting walking around like the whole world had cooties. And everything started to shut down. My kid heard the word “closed” so often, he stopped asking where we were going today.
I guarantee if the Dummie’s Guide would have written a book about juggling life and not balls, it would have been a sellout success. Except no one would have been able to read it, because they were spending every waking moment trying to figure out how to make it through to the end of the day – alive.
Now look, yes, the essential workers are superheroes throughout all these mishigas. They made some monumental sacrifices to keep humanity safe.
But the parents – they are the rockstars.
The parents, who all of a sudden needed to learn how to balance all of life, all at the same time. Video calls with babies on their laps. Relearning what’s a Pathagriam Therom, so their 8th grader doesn’t fall behind. Playing therapists for their kids, while trying to hold themselves together. Consuming half-eaten sandwiches that their kids left behind, so they can fill their stomachs. Brushing their teeth for the first time at 2:30 PM.
COVID gave us reason to wonder why we chose to have kids, rather than just pick-up and move to Tulum to ride this shit out. But we managed to get it down. Thus far.
In a time not too far into the distant future, we’ll look back and miss the days we got to spend all these moments with our kids, watching them grow and develop. And them watching us bald and age.
I guess like kids, we’re pretty adaptable. I’m just happy that people finally learned how to use FaceTime correctly.
David Nurieli