So let me start by saying I was finally able to get a COVID-19 test, in thanks to a private clinic that my neighbor (unnamed, to whom I am forever grateful), got me connected with. It was really important for me to persevere to get a test because of my team – two of the folks I work with regularly have high risk family members, and I can’t mess around with that. If they were exposed, they need to know.

It will take a couple of days to get the tests back, but my lungs are clear and my fever has gone down. I’m super conflicted. Now that I’m on the upswing of this thing, do I hope it WAS the virus? If it was COVID-19, then I have some level of immunity, and it’s likely that the folks in my household were already exposed (I’m a hugger and a cuddler of my kids), then it’s likely that we all got through this together. (We are taking precautions in the household similar to what anyone who admires Renee Russo saw in Epidemic, which I recommend.) If I DIDN’T have it, then I had something else icky and can still get COVID-19, but – upside – I don’t need to act like I have the plague in my own household and can cautiously hug my kids and be in the same room as them.

So, conflicted.

I’m feeling more coherent and episodically well, then crazy tired. I went to bed at 9 PM last night and slept almost all the way through until 6 AM, which is pretty much unheard of for me.

But apparently my ability to sabatoge myself knows no bounds. I decided eating nerds and fried chicken was a really good idea last night. Let me provide some context: I am gluten sensitive and straight up have an inflammatory response to corn. As any lover of Willy Wonka products knows, they are really completely made of flavored corn syrup.

So I felt like crap then.

Why? Whhhyyyyy do I do this to myself???? RRRRRRRRR.

Must. Be. Stronger.

Must. Be. Better. Example. For. Kids.

Molly says to me (on the porch, from a safe distance of 6-ish feet): Mommy, did you touch all the little boxes of nerds?

Mommy (that would be me): I touched all of them and then licked the packages and then put them back.

Molly (rolling her eyes in amusement, she’s practicing for her teen years): Moooommmmm, I know you didn’t do that.

So she goes and follows my amazing example by eating nerds.

I make myself feel better with excuses:

1. They’re in the little box
2. She’s super healthy and strong
3. Kids need an occasional treat, right?

This rationale does not stand up for long, as I recall she has already eaten 2 fun-sized packs of M&Ms.

Side Note: Where the heck did the hazelnut M&Ms go? Why can I not find them anymore? They were the BEST thing that ever happened to M&Ms.

BASTARDS.

So the M&Ms and the nerds were my attempt to get ahead of the online Easter candy buying binge that is no doubt coming. Once we get close enough to Easter people will be trading toilet paper for chocolate bunnies for their kids. Those without both will be raiding the remains of their stash from the parades of Mardi Gras and desperately sanitizing each candy before putting them into eggs for the kiddos. Or at least here in Louisiana. Other intrepid parents may be repurposing leftover Valentine’s day candy. “Look kids, red is the new pink this year.”

Last year there was a neighborhood Easter egg hunt here, and I was Prepared Mom. I bought individually sized candy in advance. This, after my husband put his foot down and said that we were “Not going to fill those eggs with bunny erasers and stamps on my watch.” My husband sees himself as the the Catcher in the Rye where the cliff is actually “going soft on kids these days.” They apparently need to be falling onto asphalt from playgrounds and surviving firework accidents to be made tough enough for life. “When I was a kid…” he says. And then follows it with some hideous story that I know he would never let happen to our kids.

I digress. Last year I filled the eggs with mini chocolates. And did not – until the day before they were to be turned in – apparently read the full directions on the flyer that said we were to fill them with “candy that could not melt.” Well. That.

Too late.

Some lucky kids got delicious squished chocolates. I got ahead of the game this year with nerds. That will probably be gone far before Easter.

There’s a #MomFail for every day.

#SlackerMomsUnite

Hopefully I’ll know in a couple days on this COVID thing. In the meantime, please protect other people, and STAY INSIDE.

Because I’m on the front porch (again), self-isolating, I’m missing all the parenting that I should be doing. I hear some overly emotional wailing from Thing 1 and hear her anguish as she walks up the stairs, likely banished to her bedroom for some period of time.

I should explain we’re old-school parents. Any disrespect quickly moves the child to their own self-isolation (aka naughty time) in their bedroom. Thing 1 is a particularly complex child, very bright, and very feeling. She reminds me of the quote from Jeanette Winterson’s GUT Symmetries:

I tried to mimic other children, but lacked their tough skin. I was a glove turned inside out, softness showing.

-Jeanette Winterson, GUT Symmetries

Thing 1 is, of course, far tougher than I ever was.

It feels like I’ve been benched as a parent. And this could last for a couple more weeks. I have SO MANY QUESTIONS. Do I have to still self-isolate within my own household for 2 weeks AFTER my symptoms go away????

Peter is going to come out and hang some floaty curtains on the front porch. I’m on the dangerous edge of becoming That-Crazy-Lady-Who-Calls-Out-To-People-Walking-By-On-The-Sidewalk. And it feels very public. It’s cool out here today, but Mama Mia (my mom) gave me a heated blanket last year, so I’m hooked in and chillaxing. If you can call it that. The body aches are for real. I’m going to try some very non-vigorous yoga today later if I feel up to it to see if that helps.

A neighbor might be able to get me a hook up on a test. This would help. It would be great if this were some other ick virus and I could go back to being my normal infections self instead of my “potentially-COVID-19-infectious-self”.

Thing 2 came out to read me the next few lines of his monologue he’s working on with Grandpa Neil. It’s the final monologue from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. He has a little issue with his “R’s” so the speed of the line about Hecate’s team came off in a bit of a single word instead of a line.

I love the language from Midsummer. Such an amazing play.

More later. I’m creating a list of things to do in self-isolation. Who knew I’d have so much time on my hands now that my brain appears to be functioning (or mostly functioning) again? It’s like I’m single. I’m not caring for anyone. It’s weird.

-Socially Distant Mom

P.S. There’s always the question of – Is a coronavirus meme funny or inappropriate? I’m going with funny because laughter is good for your immune system.

So we’ve been doing the social distancing thing for a while, but this week I came down with symptoms. Started with aches, dry cough tiredness. Then the fever – 101.4 then 102.7.

I called the doctor thinking I would be able to get a COVID-19 test. Now that, you know, we’re winning at COVID. But no. She asked me if I had had the flu vaccine (I had – the whole family did), and then gave me directions to get a drive through flu test.

So I drive into the nearest location, and it’s eery. I spent the entire night sweating through bedsheets and coughing all over my husband and woke up entirely disoriented. I imagined myself to be the guy from 28 Days Later, waking up from a coma to see the world post zombie apocalypse.

But there were other cars on the road. Lots of things closed down. Things were quiet. I called two people to confirm that I wasn’t hallucinating, that this was, in fact, happening to our world.

And the answer is yes.

Or I now have tactile and auditory hallucinations. Which might, at this point, be preferable.

So I drive up and there is a big sign to Not Roll Down My Window. I am directed to hold up my drivers license. Through the shut window I shout the name of my doctor. A separate nurse comes out decked in a N95 mask and goggles and takes a nose swap.

A couple hours later I get the call. It’s not the flu. I am directed to stay at home and avoid people.

In some ways this is not a problem. I have been practicing for this moment my entire life.

I cannot, apparently, get the COVID-19 test because I am “young and healthy”. This is one time that hearing “41” as “young” does not warm my heart. I want to know.

But, the world has other plans.

So now my space is shrunken to the master bedroom and bathroom, and the front and back porch. Luckily I love the porch.

The worst part is not being able to hug the kids.

My husband is like ON the plague protocol thing. Anytime something gets delivered to the house, he puts on medical gloves, takes the outside packaging off in the garage and discards it, and then sanitizes with wipes the inner boxes. He has instituted the protocol that if I walk through the house, I wear a face mask, I hand sanitize regularly, and I’m basically banned from doing anything in the house. On the upside, he has been amazing bringing me things. On the downside, I feel like crap, and he was always great at taking care of me.

Meanwhile this feels like the flu that will not end. I spent a great deal of Thursday morning (or was it Wednesday?) laying on my back on the bathroom floor. The cough medicine and Tylenol help, but my whole body hurts like sandpaper and I feel like I have sweated out the entire Dead Sea. I change PJs three times a night, and rotate from one side of the bed to the other. Today (about 5 days in), I believe my fever broke, but I won’t really know until tonight.

Meanwhile, we let the neighbors know. They were great about it. I just wish people would take it seriously. I’m a relatively healthy person. In fact, medically I’m apparently “young and healthy” (who knew). And this is Kicking My Ass.

Be careful out there,

Socially Distant Mom.