social distancing
02/29/2020
Tre made cinnamon rolls last night for today. They were amazing.
We went to Life Church Emporia online after FBC Platte City online.
I choked down sobs during the worship set with Sarah. There's a lot going on here.
Last night we had an emotional crash of apocalyptic proportion. The kids are tired. Stripped. Raw from it. So am I.
This afternoon we drove to Richmond to pick up some masks for Dale to wear and distribute at the prison. He's grasping at straws to try to help build morale. While we were there, we sat outside at least four feet apart in Richmond. No hugs. I hate social distancing. It feels like we are in prison with no one but our fear to keep us in line. I think that may be worse than actual eyes on us.
Tonight after I made dinner, there was another emotional breakdown. The children are feeling the effects of being quarantined. The wreckage is presenting under the guise of other fears, I suspect. They've been excellent at managing the togetherness, quite frankly, much more gracious than I have been. But it is taking a toll on them and I don't know how to help make it better.
I'm a quarter of the way through a novel I'm working on. It feels like it has minimal value in the grand scheme of things, but if for no other reason, I need the practice of writing fiction. I am excited to see what happens everyday, following the pattern of Stephen King and Anne Lamott, letting the muse hand me up characters as they arrive in the story, and letting them all interact and bring their own stories to the table. It's so fun. If it's this fun to write, I have to believe that it will be this fun to read. However, I have had similar feelings about playing the recorder and singing opera in the kitchen. In both cases, neither was as fun to hear as it was to produce, so, it may be that liar, Grandiosity, dancing on my shoulder and pushing me to keep writing the masterpiece.
At any rate, I'm happy to have a home. A job. A family. Good health. Friends. And school lunches to pick up every day, which I'm sure is adding another level of confusion to my poor kids. They devour the lunches after anticipating their arrival each morning and don't ask too many questions. They save their questions for more existential issues that are impossible for me to answer definitively.
Also I have gained five pounds. You can see the cookies stacked neatly in my lower belly. It's super annoying and I don't want to stop eating cookies or I might just cry too much.
lvb
Tre made cinnamon rolls last night for today. They were amazing.
We went to Life Church Emporia online after FBC Platte City online.
I choked down sobs during the worship set with Sarah. There's a lot going on here.
Last night we had an emotional crash of apocalyptic proportion. The kids are tired. Stripped. Raw from it. So am I.
This afternoon we drove to Richmond to pick up some masks for Dale to wear and distribute at the prison. He's grasping at straws to try to help build morale. While we were there, we sat outside at least four feet apart in Richmond. No hugs. I hate social distancing. It feels like we are in prison with no one but our fear to keep us in line. I think that may be worse than actual eyes on us.
Tonight after I made dinner, there was another emotional breakdown. The children are feeling the effects of being quarantined. The wreckage is presenting under the guise of other fears, I suspect. They've been excellent at managing the togetherness, quite frankly, much more gracious than I have been. But it is taking a toll on them and I don't know how to help make it better.
I'm a quarter of the way through a novel I'm working on. It feels like it has minimal value in the grand scheme of things, but if for no other reason, I need the practice of writing fiction. I am excited to see what happens everyday, following the pattern of Stephen King and Anne Lamott, letting the muse hand me up characters as they arrive in the story, and letting them all interact and bring their own stories to the table. It's so fun. If it's this fun to write, I have to believe that it will be this fun to read. However, I have had similar feelings about playing the recorder and singing opera in the kitchen. In both cases, neither was as fun to hear as it was to produce, so, it may be that liar, Grandiosity, dancing on my shoulder and pushing me to keep writing the masterpiece.
At any rate, I'm happy to have a home. A job. A family. Good health. Friends. And school lunches to pick up every day, which I'm sure is adding another level of confusion to my poor kids. They devour the lunches after anticipating their arrival each morning and don't ask too many questions. They save their questions for more existential issues that are impossible for me to answer definitively.
Also I have gained five pounds. You can see the cookies stacked neatly in my lower belly. It's super annoying and I don't want to stop eating cookies or I might just cry too much.
lvb
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