I started regularly blogging again as a way to deal with my anxiety over the pandemic. I have always processed my thoughts best through writing. And, I wanted to keep a record of what life was like during this time.
And, at this moment in time in Georgia, things are not going well.
Our cases have surged well past the high point in April when the state first ordered residents to shelter in place. (We were then one of the first states to lift the orders, by the way, despite no evidence the cases were in decline.) Yet state leaders stubbornly deny the need to do anything necessary to control the outbreak.
As I write this, I am sitting at the picnic table on our deck. This is my office until about mid-morning when the July heat will make it hotter than hell’s front porch. Then I move to the bedroom.
My husband is working in the corner of the bonus storage room above our carport. It’s the only non-bedroom room with a door. A previous owner added it in order to move the washer and dryer out of the kitchen, but it is the size of a small bedroom – just with a concrete floor and no insulation. So, in between conference calls – his and mine – I run in to move the clothes from one machine to the other.
We set up my son’s desk in the dining room. In August, this will again be “school” for him, though right now it is the scene of too many Roblox marathons. My daughter, at 10:30 a.m. on a Tuesday, is still asleep. But when she wakes up, she will spend the better part of the day on her laptop or phone.
I have had friends–also working from home with kids in a pandemic–ask me ‘what I do about screen time.’ My answer: I make them wear headphones or keep the volume low.