You may as well just put a straw in your drink and slurp it up now because the kids can't seem to do anything without my assistance today. "Mom can you tie my shoe?" "Mom I need help with my math," "Mom, I have an itch." (Drink) If I leave the room for two seconds I'm like the Pied Piper. There's a trail of kids behind me. "Mom, where are you going?" "What are you doing?" "Can I come?" (Drink) Sure, why don't you join me in the garage while I sort the recycling? It's super exciting and I wasn't at all looking forward to having 30 seconds to myself outside the house.
And if I do manage to sneak out without detection, (drink) it's not long before I'll hear a frantic scream from across the house, "Mooooooooom!!!!! Where are you? Mooooooooom?" I don't answer. Instead I head the other direction and try to find a room with a lock. They've (drink) got to learn to function without me. One of these days I won't be at their beck and call. But the way things are looking, that won't be any time soon.
Our governor just pushed our lock down back two more weeks. Our businesses cannot open until May 18th at earliest and events I always look forward to as the peak season approaches have been cancelled. In a nutshell, Cape Cod cancelled summer. The reality of the far reaching effects of this virus is hitting me big time and I made the unfortunate mistake of looking through photos from earlier this year. Remember when we went to Disney? Remember Thanksgiving when our house was overflowing with people? Remember when the girls performed in the Nutcracker for a packed theater? Remember (drink) band performances? And taking Kaleb to the ice skating rink? Remember popping into the grocery store for a handful of items and the toilet paper aisle was fully stocked and we didn't even think twice about it?
Okay, sorry. This is really depressing. It's just that we had no idea what we were in for. Who knew that March 10th was the last day of normalcy? Who knew that the last restaurant we ate at was the final one for who knows how long? That there would be no more visitors at our house for months after the last friend left? The last hug the grandparents gave the kids would have to last way more than just a few days? (Drink)
This post has taken a very somber tone which I did not intend at all when I sat down to write. I think I need to regroup. I am going to attempt to sneak out for a walk. Wish me luck. Will report back.
Walking out of the house sans kids is nearly impossible. Which is why I wound up on a walk with the kids before I was able to set off on my own. (Drink) On my second attempt, I nearly made it out, but ran into Kaleb on the front porch. I felt like I had been stopped by the police. "Where are you going?" He demanded. "On a walk?" I answered (drink), somehow feeling really guilty. "Why are you by yourself?" Hmmmm. Why on earth would that be? Why would I possibly want to be alone for a few minutes? Let me get that itch for you.
Finally I was off (drink) and I felt better before I even left the driveway. I headed back to my golf course and this time didn't get lost. I've returned a couple times since my discovery and even took Abigail and Paige to my secret sanctuary. When I got there, I had the course to myself once again. I felt like Maria in the Sound of Music.
And then, suddenly, there was music. It was very faint, but as I made my way home, it (drink) became louder and louder until finally, I discovered the source. An older man sat on (drink) a beach chair in his garage pumping away on an accordion. I have no idea what he was playing, but it didn't matter. He was spreading joy. I waved and nodded a silent thank you, but I doubt he realized just how much his music was appreciated. I doubt he would have been out there BCV. Yes, there are many things I miss and mourn. But there is much to be gained too. And one day, when things return to normal, I'm willing to bet I'll feel nostalgic for the days when things were simple for awhile. And people sat in their garage playing music. Just because.