Perfectly Imperfectly Perfect
Staying home has a lot of challenges. Mentally, emotionally, financially, and physically. It’s hard to only see the same small circle of your family every day. It’s hard to be cut off from the places I love to go and the things I love to do. I mourn the trips I haven’t taken (hello Mexico City for Spring Break and Chicago for an anniversary weekend away). It’s incredibly and overwhelmingly stressful to think about what’s happening outside our doors - massive economic distress, a virus that we don’t really even understand, and a sense of looming mortality. The swirl of the terrifying unknown feels like it keeps pushing me under, leaving me gasping (sometimes literally with panic attacks). I’d never had an actual panic attack until Coronovirus - but now I know first hand, it’s terrifying.
And yet, when I don’t look outside, when I look only inside, at my children, my husband, and our au pair, the world feels bright. Since this started, I feel like I know my kids better. I have had more opportunity to appreciate how consistently kind our au pair is with our kids, helping them when they need it, and how much they enjoy their time with her. I’ve seen a lot of development with Theo that I might have overlooked in the bustle of everyday life. I’ve always dreamed of doing art projects and creative activities with the kids, being a certain kind of mom that I idealize in my head, but it never really fit into our lives. Until now. I know that a lot of people don’t feel the same way, and it’s not always sunshine and rainbows, but for me, when I look at this situation through a certain light, it’s an opening to a world I never would have entered otherwise. And I love a new journey.
The stress of the uncertainty around our business, the livelihood we have built for ourselves, the abrupt stop in our income, has taken a toll on both Tommy and me, but especially him. I’m better at blocking it out. Denial and ignorance are my friends here - I don’t pay the bills in our division of work labor, so I’m not staring the diminishing bank account in the face every day. I’m more of a homebody than him, and more of an introvert. Where I appreciate the extra time with the kids to do my dream projects, he never had a list of dream kid projects. We’ve been drawn together from the shared stress, and sometimes frustrated by each other’s coping mechanisms. It’s been harder for us to feel connected and supported by each other lately, with so much out of our control and a differing view of how we personally experience this time.
Our anniversary approached, and we experienced some sadness at the trip we didn’t take. It’s hard to make a day feel special, when all the days are the same - stay home, read news, don’t get sick, cook dinner, do laundry, clean stuff.
We started the morning early (because kids) and ended up looking through our wedding photo album together (with Theo circling us, demanding up into our laps, back down, over and over) and reminisced about the joy we felt that day. That day was just an outpouring of love from our friends and family, and everything just worked out. There were funny and touching surprises, great and kind generosity, and humor.
The day passed pretty normally - we played outside, did chores, watched a movie. The day before our anniversary, we set up the inflatable hot tub we ordered on Amazon. It takes about 24 hours for it to actually be a hot tub (prior to that it’s just a large tub full of water from the hose). All day, we checked the temp and updated the family. (This is what passes for entertainment now -- it’s almost literally the equivalent of watching a pot boil, except it takes 24 hours).
We ordered some fancy takeout from Loro, a collaboration of a restaurant by a chef from Uchiko and Aaron Franklin. We told the girls they could be the waitresses at our fancy restaurant, so while Tommy went to pick up the food (with Theo riding along), we set up. We put a tablecloth on the table, cut some roses from our bushes in the front, and lit a candle. I made a quick kids dinner of chicken nuggets, carrots and peas, and fruit, and they ate quickly. They prepared menus, selected special dishes and cups (for some reason, they felt that animal themed mugs were the fanciest option, so I went with it).
They also prepared money for us, since we would have to pay for our meal. They repurposed the puppet theater into the host stand for the restaurant, and argued over who got to serve who. We were ready!
Tommy got home and we ate our meal - it was delicious. Theo ate with us, but I fed him chicken nuggets instead of our ribs and sides. He kept throwing food on the floor and demanding more nuggets. The girls kept rushing us to finish because they had a surprise, and while we ate, they were running all over the house gathering items and yelling strange things at each other. It was not exactly like a fine dining experience, despite their best intentions. Finally, Ruthie told us there was a dance after dinner because she just couldn’t hold it in any more. Not the best with secrets, that one.
We put Theo to bed, and headed to the dance. The girls had taken the rose shaped drawer pull off the dress up cabinet in their room, and they sneaked it to Tommy. When I walked in to the dance, he presented me with this beautiful rose (that they had removed from the furniture in their room). And then, the music started. Growing up, I had a jukebox at my house, and I have many fond memories dancing with my parents to the records in the jukebox. During this period of staying home, the girls have discovered how much they love pushing the buttons and picking a song to dance around to, which is a fun nostalgic experience for me.
The love songs started, and we two-stepped around the floor. They created some mood lighting by turning off the lights and shining a flashlight on the dance floor. Sometimes they would come out and dance around us, and sometimes they let us have the floor. It really was one of the sweetest moments, to see their work caring for us. They finished the dance with a performance to Deep in the Heart of Texas, another bid at nostalgia for me since that was my high school drill team’s signature high kick song that we performed at almost every football game.
The girls headed off to bed, and we headed out to the new hot tub, which had finally reached 100 degrees. We relaxed under our beautiful trees, under the lights that we had re-hung that weekend, and it was nice. It was really, really nice. It was nourishing, it was joyful, it was perfectly imperfectly perfect.
This has to be one of the most memorable anniversaries I’ll ever experience. This time is hard, harder for some than others, but it’s also interesting. Limitations breed creativity, I find over and over. Not being able to go out forced us to be creative, to find solutions within the new boundaries imposed upon us. We would never have chosen this plan, and yet it was better - sweeter, deeper, and more connected. Sometimes, having lots of options isn’t best. Sometimes a blend of nostalgia, new experiences, working together to make the most of it, and being together is better than a trip, a dinner out, or a show. As much as we love to travel, this year we found the new adventure we needed right at home.