Pandemic Journal

My name is Courtney McKinney-Whitaker. I'm 39 years old, a married mother of two currently living just outside Hershey, PA. I kept this journal from March 30, 2020 to December 29, 2021. I am revising it for submission to the National Women's History Museum on December 31. This is the revised version—I can't turn in the original, which was far too personal for me to want it posted on the internet in my lifetime. Everything in this journal is true, but it isn't the whole story. And because the pandemic isn't over, it doesn't even cover the whole pandemic, but December 31 is the deadline for this project. I will continue to keep this journal until we finally get to the end.
Changes to the original are in brackets. Everything else is original.

March 30, 2020
March of 2020 has been by far the most bizarre month of my life, and perhaps the hardest. Today, I am 18 ½ weeks pregnant with my second child at the age of 38. [We had a terrible scare with pregnancy, the details of which I'm not willing to share in this format at this time. Just trust me that it was awful.]
In the midst of all this came the coronavirus, which we had been hearing news reports about since January. In a way, I was relieved that I didn't have to go out and interact with people while I was in the difficult emotional state I was in (especially since I started showing a little bit between weeks 16-17, as I did with my first child, my daughter V, who is now 5). Social distancing was the perfect excuse. But it also added a new worry of the virus itself, and as medical centers focused all their energies on Covid-19, they started canceling what they considered unnecessary or elective procedures and appointments. I was scared that my pregnancy care would be considered unnecessary. I was still scared that this situation would lead to restrictions based on Covid-19 and that I would be unable to get the care I needed—and then there's the additional concern about being in a hospital at all during a pandemic.
On March 26 (my mother's 64th birthday), we got the wonderful news that [the pregnancy could continue as planned]. It's an immense relief in so many ways. But now I'm afraid of Covid-19. As a pregnant woman, I'm immunocompromised. I also have several autoimmune disorders, including hypothyroidism and celiac disease. We don't yet know the effects on the fetus of the mother's getting Covid-19. I'm scared my husband, Stephen, will get it and die, leaving me to go through pregnancy, labor and delivery, and raising two children alone. I'm concerned about how I will get appropriate prenatal care. Is it safer to go to the doctor or to stay home and take my chances without bloodwork, sonograms, urine screenings, a fresh DTAP vaccine, and the gestational diabetes test? 
The federal social distancing order is in place until April 30, as of yesterday. I'm thankful the president didn't stick to his reckless idea of opening everything back up by Easter (April 12) just for the sake of the stock market. I'm grateful that I'm not due until August 27, by which time I hope the worst of this will be over. Stephen says this is actually a perfect situation for me, because I feel the worst part of pregnancy is having to deal with other people's stupid comments and belly pats and now I don't have to do that. Still, I'd go through all that for things to just be normal. An uneventful pregnancy would have been nice, but I guess I'll have some stories to tell G when he's born (or, in reality, many years afterward).
We're doing our best to be safe. Stephen is a Presbyterian Church (USA) pastor in Hershey, PA. The church, including V's preschool, has been closed since March 14, but Stephen has been conducting services through the livestream and going in about once a week, while working from home the other days. He's done a lot of Zoom meetings and classes. While he and the rest of the staff practice social distancing and handwashing/sanitizer, I'm still worried. He goes to the grocery store about once a week, and so far we're great on food and paper products and cleaning products. We're lucky we can afford to buy a week or two of food at a time. I know some people can't and have to go more frequently. We've ordered things we need on Amazon and from other places, too, and I'm afraid of the virus getting into the house that way. We do our best to sanitize and wash hands, but who knows if it's enough?
We've done a little bit of "homeschool" with V—mostly reading her "legends" as she calls them. (Fairy tales she's gotten from some of our travels, which are curtailed for now.) But today's the day all the elementary schools started their online learning, so we may try something more formal—or not. I'm grateful she's still in preschool and is basically prepared for kindergarten—and that for now, I'm not working, so I don't have the childcare concerns many people do with schools and daycares closed. She's sad about missing her last few months of preschool, though, and she misses her teachers and friends, many of whom will go to different elementary schools.
I've done freelance and educational writing from home for about 8 years now, and I was in the middle of writing a novel, among other things, but I haven't written since we got the bad news about the initial [pregnancy] screening on February 27 (and actually we were in England for about 10 days before that, so it's been more like a month and a half.) This journal is my way of getting my fingers back on the keyboard and my brain and body back into the habit of work. It's also the only helpful thing I feel like I can do, and it won't even be helpful until historians are looking at this time, and maybe not even then. But if I can't do anything else, I can leave a record of this time. I can bear witness. So that's what this journal is.
March 31, 2020
Still cloudy and cold.  I find myself craving warm weather, as I have throughout the pregnancy. Yesterday, I scheduled my 20-week ultrasound at Hershey Med's Maternal Fetal Medicine practice. It's April 9, which will be exactly 20 weeks. I'm not allowed to bring anyone with me due to coronavirus precautions, which I'm very sad about. Stephen said he will sit in the car and wait for me and maybe I can Facetime him in in case there are questions and so he can see the screen. We've already had a few ultrasounds, including the big one they did at 14 weeks, and we know it's a boy, so it's not like there will be any big surprises (knock on wood), and I think they'll give me a CD of pictures, but I'm still sad. Having your husband with you is one of those things you just expect, and since this pregnancy has already been such an emotional rollercoaster, I really wanted to have Stephen with me. Then I have my regular 20-week appointment at the OBGYN on April 10. I didn't think to ask if Stephen could come to that one. They're saying the next two weeks may be the worst, so I'm a little concerned I'll need to reschedule both of those. We'll see. I keep telling V we all have to make sacrifices, so I guess this is one of mine.
Also yesterday, Governor Wolf extended the lockdown order to Dauphin County, among others. I hear there are 36 cases in the county, with one death so far. V has been very interested in Governor Wolf's updates and when he will put the red "home" sign on our county. 
We had a busy day yesterday moving furniture around in V's room and putting together her new toy shelf so she can have more toys in her room, especially the ones with small parts and the ones she doesn't want G to get ahold of. It looks really nice and she has a wide space to play.
Stephen has gone to work today. Religious institutions are exempt from the lockdown order, and you can go to work to get things you need to work from home. Our church building is closed for the duration, but I think it's silly to exempt religious institutions. It's not like the virus won't spread in a church. I'm not sure if that means worshippers can still go or if it means the building can remain open. Only essential staff are there, anyway. You can still go to medical appointments, too, although anything nonessential is being rescheduled. Prenatal care is pretty essential, though.
V's preschool teacher sent a packet of fun things to do to keep skills up and keep from getting bored, so we'll work through that as we're able. This morning I printed the emergent reader book they make each quarter and she's working on coloring it so she can read it to G. We plan to make a basket of books she's able to read to him. Her reading skills are growing by leaps and bounds. She definitely knows more than she thinks she does.
One of my projects for today will be making a list of things to do each day with V. I keep saying we can do things and then we run out of time. For people who are stuck at home, it's amazing how fast the time does get away from us. It looks like this will probably last through May, so I need to work on establishing more of a routine for all of our health and sanity. 
April 2, 2020
Today is the first day I've seen Stephen look worried, and that worries me. We debated this morning whether he should go to the Giant down the street or the Wegman's in Mechanicsburg. (Thursday has become grocery shopping day.) He ended up going to Wegman's because he's been there twice and knows their protocol and feels better about their cleaning practices. And he'll have to at least run into Giant next week to pick up my prescriptions. The good news is they had bread; the bad news is they didn't have toilet paper, but we still have about 15 rolls in the house, so we're okay for now. 
Yesterday, I kept berating myself for not getting "back to normal," which had been my goal after finding out that G is all right and the pregnancy can proceed as normally as possible under the circumstances. (I'm at 19 weeks today.) But I concluded I hadn't been able to get back to normal because normal is gone for now, for everyone. The whole state is now under the stay-at-home order except for essential tasks. 
I'd also been worried about establishing a routine for V to keep her feeling safe. I realized we sort of do have a routine. We sleep in a bit—to about 7:30 or 8:00—and eat breakfast in our jammies. I get her started on some kind of "school-ish" work while I get dressed. Right now she's coloring an emergent reader and doing a really thorough job. This morning she got into building pillow forts and blankets, which is on her Movement Choice Board from her preschool teacher. We also read two books and she did some free drawing at her request. This afternoon she and Stephen are going to count the money in her piggy bank and do her Soccer Shots routine and play the matching game. Yesterday we did a fashion show to see what still fits in her closet while we cleaned most of it out, and Stephen set up the new rocker and the crib in G's room. This afternoon I hope to finish cleaning out her closet, and then the big V's Room Revival of 2020 will be done, and we'll move on to another project. Yesterday we read 11 books and she did some coloring in her emergent reader. She plans to set up a basket of books she's able to read to G and she's asked for more wordless picture books so she can make up different stories to tell him. So we are more unschooling than homeschooling, I guess, but she's hitting all the right areas one way or another.
We usually end up doing household projects in the afternoon. Before dinner, V cleans up her toys and has a bath. Since we've all eaten breakfast and lunch together, we watch a cooking show together every night during dinner. V's a big fan of cooking shows. She got really into The Great British Baking Show, but there are no new episodes of that, so we've been watching Top Chef, Jr., Sugar Rush, Chopped Sweets, Kids' Baking Championship, and Spring Baking Championship. Some of these are better than others. Stephen and I prefer Chopped Sweets and Top Chef, Jr. We've been watching Top Chef the last thing in bed every night. Stephen told his sister, who's in Charlotte, NC, that the routine is that I fall asleep right before the elimination and then ask him in the morning who went home. It's kind of true. After dinner, I read to V for a while and then she reads to herself until she's ready to turn off her light, usually between 8:00-8:30. 
It occurs to me that I need to get outside more to make sure I get plenty of Vitamin D for the baby. I don't mind sitting on the patio, but I don't like to go for walks as there are always other people out. I continue my usual elliptical workouts in the house and do prenatal yoga to a DVD once a week. I have a prenatal strength training DVD I used with V, but the host is kind of annoying and I haven’t used it very much. I suppose I should.
At lunch today, V asked me if coronavirus kills people. I told her, "Sometimes." She said, "Well, what if it kills you? I would miss you so much." "It's not going to kill me," I said. "It mostly kills older people or people who have some kind of pre-existing condition." Lying seemed like the kindest thing. I didn't tell her pregnancy makes me more vulnerable. She's asking for a lot more hugs lately and sometimes she cries. I definitely didn't tell her that I've started praying that if it has to take one of us, it takes me. I couldn't live without Stephen or V. Of course, my main prayer is that we all stay safe from it and it blows over before G is born.
April 5, 2020
I've been too busy to write the past few days. Again, it's amazing how the days fill up when you're entertaining a 5-year-old 24/7. It's also amazing how the dishwasher fills up when 3 people are eating all their meals at home. I think we've run it every day the past few days. I've also been really tired and have had to take naps yesterday and today from about 2:00-4:00, and then I've spent about an hour on the patio reading while V draws with chalk. I also opened some windows today to get the fresh air. We had a high of 68 today, 65 yesterday, and the next few days are supposed to be nice, too, so I'm doing my best to get outside and get fresh air and Vitamin D. The patio is the only place I really feel safe, though. I think it was Thursday that Governor Wolf asked everyone to wear masks in public, which is super freaky. The exhaustion could be pregnancy, but it could also be that I really need my thyroid checked, which is hard because they're saying not to leave the house in the next two weeks unless you absolutely have to. So I don't feel I got a lot done this weekend except for resting and reading, but I guess that's fine. I keep reminding myself that some times are just about survival, and I've been in that place since the whole [pregnancy crisis] at the end of February.
Today is Palm Sunday. Obviously, we did virtual church. [Our church has had a livestream option since before we arrived in 2017, so that made the transition easier.] This may be the most restful Holy Week ever—and if we let it, perhaps the most meaningful. V wanted to dress up for church, so she wore one of her new dresses. She also got to FaceTime with her friend from Derry Discovery Days today, so that was great for her, I think. Yesterday we FaceTimed with [her cousin] and crew [my brother, his wife, and two boys] and Aunt [SIL] [Stephen's sister] and earlier today with Mimi and Papa [my parents].
Tomorrow I'm going to start getting us into some kind of more formal school routine because I think she needs it for stability (and for keeping up—March to August with no school and then straight into Kindergarten would be very hard). 
I'm scared, but I'm also trying very hard to keep my spirits and everyone's spirits up in the house. I don't think this is it for me, but if it is, I'm really glad I lived my life the way I did. I'm not sorry I didn't spend all my time on a traditional career. I feel a little useless now because I don't know what I can do to help the world at this time. I'm glad I got married and had child(ren), no matter what I had to sacrifice for it. I'm glad I mostly stayed home with V. I'm glad I didn't spend all my time at work. I'm glad I traveled a lot and read thousands upon thousands of books. I'm glad that when I worked, it was at writing in one way or another. I'm glad I published a novel and a literary history and all those essays. Sometimes I feel ashamed of myself for not being more successful, but in the end—I'm glad I've enjoyed so much of my life. I didn't miss anything by not being at work all the time. I know I've been lucky to be able to do this, that I happened to marry someone who could support us and make these things possible for me, even if I sacrificed other goals to move and be with him—he has been worth it. Love is always worth it.
I started reading V THE PRINCESS AND THE GOBLIN by George MacDonald tonight. I'm thrilled to report that she loves it.
April 6, 2020
I am so freaking annoyed with my neighbors right now. I get that it is probably really hard to have teenagers who don't want to listen, but who are the parents here??? Of course, the parents are MAGAs who are convinced this is all a conspiracy theory and the "emotional trauma" of social distancing will be harder on their poor sweet babies than Covid-19. My friend Lauren, whose husband is a doctor, said they should volunteer in the ICU and then see how Covid-19 compares to their "emotional trauma." V and I were sitting on the patio reading, and there were six teenagers gathered in their driveway, not remotely observing any sort of social distancing. 
[I'm not insensitive to the emotional trauma of the pandemic. I know we've all gone through trauma the past couple of years. I guess I am just a "priorities person," and my priority is staying alive and not spreading Covid because mental health can be treated but not if you're dead.]
April 7, 2020
It sounds silly and selfish to say I'm emotionally exhausted by all this, but I am. I'm exhausted by not having anything to contribute at a time like this. I want to help and I can't find any way to do that because my skills are not in any way practical. And I'm emotionally exhausted, honestly, by all the appeals for help. I can't possibly personally support every small business that can't survive the shutdown: all the local bookstores, the boutiques, the hairdressers and so on and so forth. It's not like I use them that much under normal circumstances. I don't eat out much in the first place because of my celiac disease, but I don't want Stephen and V getting take-out anymore either. Grocery shopping is nerve-wracking enough. With take-out or drive-thru, you don't know who just coughed on your food before they gave it to you. I can't risk my family's health or my own just to support local restaurants. And I think Dunkin' Donuts and the other big chains will be fine.
I feel like all I can do is continue to pay our obligations, the things we would normally have paid for. We're still paying V's preschool tuition. We're still paying for Soccer Shots and ballet, though are the Zoom classes really the same? No, they are not. We're still asking our lawn service to come and cut our grass—not that they're especially reliable. I sound angry, and I shouldn't be—but feelings are just feelings. I'm just exhausted with seeing everybody's pet cause on the internet all the time. I can't save every business. This is like high-level government stuff that there needs to be an overall plan for. Yes, the economy will suffer. But the damage could be mitigated through good planning and so on. It shouldn't be up to individuals to save businesses when we're all just literally trying to survive. [But it definitely felt like that was the message and has continued to be throughout.]
And I feel helpless to do anything but "mom" during this time. I have a 5yo who has become more clingy than usual because she's scared, and I'm almost 20 weeks pregnant. And I'm not even doing that especially well! I can't get her to do school work, and we're in our pajamas until noon. I do intend to stop wasting my mornings, though. It was fine to do a few weeks of jammie breakfasts, as V calls them, but I feel better when I'm up and ready for the day before I eat breakfast. And there's another thing to feel frustrated about—all the noise around motherhood at this time. Here are piles of activities to do with your kids, never mind just let them watch TV all day, be a hero, don't be a hero, and on and on and on and on and on. I freaking hate Facebook, but it's the only way I get to connect with people these days.
Oh, and also I'm supposed to send everybody's kid who has a birthday during this time and everybody's parents who have anniversaries a card. People have enough to deal with. Which sounds like it's a small thing I could do to help, but who wants a bunch of germy cards? And it's just one more thing contributing to the noise of things I should be doing when I can't even keep my own house in order. [I sound like a real jerk here. Sorry. Maybe other people don't let all the "shoulds" and the constant asks get to them, but I do. I'm trying to be honest, and these were my feelings. It was too much for me to handle right then.]
April 9, 2020
I found out on Facebook this morning that one of my friends from high school died on Sunday. She was a real friend, not an acquaintance, though we didn't keep in touch after high school. I'm just shocked and stunned. The obituary didn't say what happened, so I kind of doubt it was Covid-19, but I truly have no idea. She had two little girls. I'm just horrified.
Today I am 20 weeks pregnant—halfway there. My 20-week ultrasound is scheduled for 12:45 today at Hershey Maternal Fetal Medicine. All the doctors I've talked to have advised me to keep the appointment, and I need to see for myself that G is really okay. But I'm terrified to go, honestly. I'll wear gloves and a mask and not touch my face, but still. I'm scared to possibly pick up Covid-19 and bring it back to the family. Tomorrow I'm supposed to go for my regular 20-week appointment. After this I shouldn't have to go back until 24 weeks, which will be May 7. I hope things will feel safer by then. I feel like I need to go to the 20-week appointments because I haven't had a regular OB appointment since 12 weeks—I think it was February 13. I skipped the 16-week appointment due to all the [pregnancy crisis] drama. I know I need my urinalysis and bloodwork done, especially since I'm pretty sure my thyroid medicine needs to be increased.
Just in shock today over [my friend's] death. Scared about having to go to an appointment.
April 13, 2020
So, yeah, I went to both of those appointments last week. Precautions were in place. I had to go through screening for fever and other symptoms at MFM in the lobby. Then they had machines set up to process my insurance card. I used a lot of hand sanitizer and wore a mask, for what it's worth. G looks absolutely perfect, so that's reassuring. He finished his ultrasound in half an hour. They schedule them for a full hour in case they have to wait on the baby to move into position to get what they need, but he was very cooperative. He did not like having his feet touched, though. Understandable. Stephen waited on me in the car. I wasn't really sad until after the appointment that he didn't get to come with me, but now I feel like we both missed something. I'm glad it wasn't the first ultrasound. We already saw him at 14 weeks and knew it was a boy, but a lot can change in six weeks. At least I have pictures and a CD, if I can find a player for it.
At my OBGYN, they had even more precautions in place. I just kind of called my name to check in and a nurse came right out and got me. I didn't even see any other patients. [The doctor] asked if I had any questions, and I said, "What are the chances I have to give birth alone?" He said since that one system in NYC had that policy (which they rescinded after one week), that's been the most common question he's gotten. He said the most likely scenario for August is still that it will be the laboring mother and one support person, with no visitors allowed. I don't really mind that at all, but we'll have to just get V used to a new idea of what things will look like: big sister class at home, Zoom baby shower (if we have one at all), and meeting G when he comes home instead of at the hospital. 
After I got home from both those appointments, I left my shoes in the garage, dropped my phone, credit card, insurance card, and driver's license (all I brought) in a hard chair for Stephen to sanitize, stripped naked by the washing machine and put my clothes in, and took a long, hot shower. Then I sanitized everything I touched with Lysol wipes. It was an ordeal. Leaving the house is totally not worth the anxiety. 
Yesterday was a very strange Easter. Strange, but still good. It didn't feel that different from usual. We got up and had breakfast as a family, which never happens on Sundays, let alone on Easter. V got to open her Easter basket in the morning like a normal child rather than waiting until after church. (I was afraid there wasn't enough in it because Easter baskets haven't been top of mind lately, but she loved everything and was so excited with what she got, especially a stuffed Koala we never got around to giving her on Valentine's Day.) We had doughnuts, which was what V asked for for Easter breakfast. Stephen went to church to do the livestream service, which we watched. We got dressed up, V in her pink sparkly flowery dress my mom got her, me in my black shift dress with the lavender flowers. It's not a maternity dress, but it's stretchy and forgiving. We took some bump pics when Stephen got home. Of course, I feel like I look huge.
V still got to do her Easter egg hunt around the yard, and we Zoomed with the Stephen's mother's family, who we're very close to, in the afternoon and told them the news about G. I also let Stephen's stepbrother and sister-in-law in Colorado know. They're so supportive, as always. Good people.
April 14, 2020
Yesterday I started our first day of the family schedule I made over the weekend. I hope it will work and help us all to feel more productive and calm and sane. Today, of course, I completely fell down on the job and am still in my pajamas typing this at 11:20 in the morning. I've just been so tired lately, which I think is mostly due to the fact that my thyroid medicine was off and I do need to increase the dosage. I hope I'll start feeling better once the new dosage kicks in. Yesterday I napped from 2:30-5:00, which is supposed to be my "household tasks" time. I figure I can defend it by saying I'm taking care of myself and G and also building my immune system by getting enough rest. This morning I just couldn't wake up at 7:15 and ended up not getting up until 8:00, when I needed to eat breakfast, and it all becomes a vicious cycle if I don't get dressed first thing.
I am feeling really exhausted and annoyed by the extremes some people are suggesting we go to. I can't stay six feet away from my husband and child who live with me and depend on me. I am going to find comfort in my husband's arms. I cannot clean every surface all day long. It's ridiculous. I'm all for quarantine, but some of these suggestions are completely over-the-top and impossible and insane. Meanwhile, those on the other extreme want to open everything back up and let us all take our chances. [People are very bad at nuance and gray areas and moderation.]
I have a lot of writing projects to catch up on this week, so I'm not going to worry about this journal unless something momentous happens.
April 20, 2020
I did manage to get our schedule to work last week and today. I think it has been really helpful. I got back into [my novel manuscript] and I did the first in a series of blog posts [for a now defunct travel blog, haha] on our Jane Austen experience over the past year. 
V is doing a great job with her "independent choice time" in the morning. I think that's a great way to get her more okay with independent play. It's also been really beneficial to have different types of toys and activities located in different places around the house. As we've been transitioning the play room to be appealing for V and safe for G, we've moved toys to V's room. We also put the doll house and fairy tale blocks in the living room. She does a great job of doing really focused play now. I think the play room was too stimulating. Now that she can choose to play in her room, in the living room, in the library, in the family room, or at the island, she's doing a much better job of playing on her own. I had to get her out of her room for breakfast this morning because she was already very busy playing [with her rubber duck toys].
I did get my higher dose of thyroid medicine, which I started taking on Tuesday. I'm feeling much better. I was needing a nap every day, which was seriously cutting into my time. Luckily, I was able to skip a nap yesterday and today. I told myself that I needed the sleep—I really had no choice—because if I do get COVID-19, I want my immune system to be in the best shape possible. 
At "Mommy School" this morning we learned about lambing season—following her interest in sheep. All our favorite historical interpretation sites have been posting about their new lambs. She gently patted my tummy and said, "Thank you for doing this for me, Mommy. I know it's a lot of work. Thank you for making me a baby." Heart melting now.
It's now late afternoon, and Stephen and V have gone on one of their "Adventure Walks." V made sure to wear her Wellies, so she could walk in the stream if she wanted to. She has a funny little way of using some British terms and phrases and some American ones. I love it. To be fair, she mostly wears her Wellies while we're in Britain. So glad Stephen is able to help her get outside. It's still too cold for me! 27 degrees yesterday morning. It's in the 50s now, and it looks like it will be through the end of April. I'm now at 21.5 weeks—5 months tomorrow—and since all I'm wearing is yoga pants each day and I wear great big sweaters all winter anyway, I'm able to still get by without buying any new maternity clothes, which is my goal. I hit the seasons exactly right with V so that I didn't need any cold weather maternity stuff, but G is 3 weeks to a month ahead of her in terms of due date. 
We went through V's old clothes to pull out any that would work for G. It's actually a surprising amount. My other goal is not to buy any more newborn to 3-month clothes because they just grow out of them so fast. Hoping that with hand-me-downs we'll have a pretty decent wardrobe. I've gotten very into being sustainable with this current crisis, haha. Don't eat the last of the sugar pretzels, as V says!
April 25, 2020
We've had a really lovely day so far. It's in the 60s and nice outside, so we went for an excursion to the church to see the tulips and walk around the grounds. Thanks to the weather and the coronavirus, it was the first time I'd left the house since April 12! So nice to have my office window open and get some fresh air—even if I am kind of freaking out because my neighbor was using his leaf blower after he cut the grass and that family is not even remotely practicing social distancing.
After lunch, we drove over to the Hershey Botanical Gardens and looked at the tulips and the cherry trees through the fence. I so miss being able to walk around there. Then we went to the church so that V could put flowers on the headstones in the cemetery. This is her quarantine project. She asked if on nice days we could visit the cemetery and put flowers on each of the graves so they would know someone remembered them. I read her what I could of the headstones and she said the names as she put dandelions on the boys' and violets on the girls' graves. Today we did the rows of the Frazer and Clark families, who appear to have lived in the late 1700s and early 1800s. She has the strangest, loveliest attitude toward the dead. They are real to her. She does not think they are any less important because they are dead. Her only concern about death is that she misses people. To talk to her, one really would think the veil between life and death is thin, and the dead have only stepped into another room.
After that we took a walk around the church grounds and the down the golf course, around the spring and the old schoolhouse and back up to the church. We looked at the tulips and V ran and got grass stains on her pants and made a little collection of acorns that she put on a stump. We found one that had rooted its way into the ground and sprouted and she learned that oaks grow from acorns. We examined all the flowers around the church and named the ones we could—lambs' ear and bleeding hearts and others. She felt the lambs' ear and said it felt so soft. What strange, lovely gifts the quarantine gives us.
When we got home, I opened some windows so we can all get more fresh air. It's supposed to be rainy and cold tomorrow and for the next several days, so we have to enjoy it while we can. V and I went outside on the patio, where she had her snack and we read several books together. She can read a lot more than she lets on. Now she and Stephen are making a chocolate cake. Tomorrow is Great-Grandma's 91st birthday, and we're doing a family Zoom call to celebrate, so we have to have cake to eat.
Twitchit (our cat) loves the fresh air. I know because she's sitting in my office by the window and she never really comes in here otherwise. She tried sitting in the window, but I think the height makes her nervous because she'll sit in the open window downstairs.
I think the quarantine has made Stephen realize how desirable a screened porch would be because he's getting estimates to see what it would take to put one in. 
This was such a lovely day. The world is so beautiful, despite everything, and our family life is so beautiful. We are so lucky.
May 3, 2020
Wow, I haven't written for over a week. I didn't realize it had been that long, but it was a pretty busy week. I got G's clothes (the hand-me-downs from V) washed and put away. We got his blanket, crib sheet, and mobile set up, and I actually got out the iron for the first time since we moved almost three years ago and ironed the crib skirt. I talked to my mom a lot this past week, which always helps me out mentally.
Last Sunday, we had a Zoom call for Grandma's 91st birthday. "Who would have thought I would live to have a virtual birthday party?" she said. Today our family did V's "Big Sister Party." Doing fun things like that breaks up the monotony, and it helps make up for the fact that she can't go to a big sister class or a baby shower. She got three books about being a big sister, a big sister activity book, and a big sister t-shirt, along with a little brother onesie for G.
We're still under a stay-at-home order, but a lot of places are starting to open back up, which is scary. I saw a headline today that said the government has ordered 100,000 more body bags. 
This was a beautiful weekend. I was able to have the windows open and get some fresh air. Today I sat on the deck for 3 ½ hours. It was sunny with a high of 77. Just beautiful, especially after all the rain. I also felt very productive in many ways.  The weather helps a lot—unfortunately, it looks like it will be dropping back into the high 50s and low 60s with rain and wind for the foreseeable future.
This morning V and I watched church online, as usual. We also had communion. It was kind of nice that I got to teach her what to say and talk about it: "The body of Christ, the bread of heaven. The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation." We had apple-pineapple juice and pretzels. It's funny that during March, otherwise known as the worst month of my life, I couldn't feel God's presence at all. I felt like God hated me. But recently, I've felt the presence of God so close to me. I haven't been doing "devotions," but I haven't needed to. I've felt God all around me. I've felt for the first time in my life what it must be to rest in God.
V was upset all during church. She told me she was so worried about the coronavirus, particularly her friend Ben's grandmother and all her older friends. I had to rub her back and explain why she can't sit on my pregnant lap at the kitchen island, which is where we do church. 
I've been feeling kind of awful the last few days—gastritis and what I think is a mild hernia beside my belly button. Today I felt a lot better, maybe because I didn't have that afternoon cup of decaf tea and I didn't eat as much today as I have been. I'm a bit hungry, but I'm not in terrible abdominal pain, and that seems like it might be an acceptable trade. I hate to miss that afternoon tea, though. *sigh* Oh, well. While I'm trying to treasure pregnancy, knowing this is my last time, I'll also be glad when I don't have to worry about if every bite of food has listeria or something on it. What a relief that will be.
May 5, 2020
I don't know how she did it, but V nearly broke me today. I think it's just that I was really hungry by the time we got lunch and I couldn't get my lunch because she kept rudely complaining about how little cheese there was on her chip-and-cheese. (There was plenty.) I had to model for her how to ask politely, and she just started crying, which is what she does lately if she doesn't do something perfectly. I had already been playing with her for an hour, and I was just done. I ate my cheese toast and got her to her room for a quiet time as quickly as possible and then came back and ate a sliced apple with almond butter and chocolate chips, which is a new favorite treat of mine. Often we do have regular meals for lunch, usually leftovers from dinner the night before, but today we were out of leftovers, so we made do with what was fast and easy. I've already forgotten what I did while she was in quiet time besides finish my lunch. The days are running together a bit in my head. 
At 3:00 we videochatted with friends from our Peoria years (2009-2017) who used to watch V and are more like an extra set of grandparents. We got to tell them the news about the baby. We talked for about an hour and a half. V drew and wrote letters for part of the time and then got down to play school in her playroom.
I'm not in terrible pain today, maybe because I have tried to be really conscious of drinking a lot of water and grazing on food. I can feel some slight gastritis, so I'm hoping dinner doesn't make it worse. I'm also really tired today. With the change in the weather, I don't think I slept well last night. I kept getting hot and then cold. Also, today is the new Giving Tuesday (Now in May as well as December!) and I've been getting requests for donations all day from every organization I've ever had the slightest contact with and I'd love to help but I'm just overwhelmed by it. [Again, the economic effects of this really seem like a thing the government should maybe think about addressing? In some way? But the approach throughout has been just to make individuals feel bad for not being able to singlehandedly save everything.]
It's not quite 60 degrees today, but Stephen has now taken V out for an Adventure Walk. She was bouncing off the walls and being silly and it was just a lot. I would love to be lying down right now, but instead I'm writing this and revising a letter to the church (about how reopening is going to be slow) for Stephen and catching up on email. 
I am trying to have a new approach to productivity, which is "I can do what I can do." I want all the people telling us to take up a hobby or write a novel or whatever during this time to go dig themselves a very deep hole and pull the dirt in after them. It might seem counterintuitive, but I am busier than ever. Three people, a cat, and a dog at home all day make a lot of mess that I can't keep up with. Stephen is doing most of it, actually, because the abdominal pain is exacerbated by bending. He loads and unloads the dishwasher, transfers the laundry, and does all the vacuuming, among other things. He gives V her bath every night, which I'm so grateful for because the bending would hurt so much. Another benefit of the 'rona: under normal circumstances he wouldn't be home every night because he'd be at church meetings.
I really need to straighten up. I would enjoy things so much more. I have had straightening and organizing my office and bedroom on my list for a month. It mostly involves moving books around (and dusting.) But I'm also trying to keep V entertained and educated, and all this adds up to less time than I had before. 
G has been very active today, after hardly moving yesterday. He's started doing a very funny thing where he moves right around mealtimes, like he knows it's time to eat. Or that's my interpretation. It may not have any physiological basis in reality.
I downloaded some new books yesterday and today from Free Library of Philadelphia's Overdrive. I want to get in bed and read them—only dinner, bedtime for V, and showering to go. I have had to stop showering every day because my hair was turning brittle and my skin is crazily pregnancy dehydrated. 
May 6, 2020
Cold and rainy today. I don't think it even hit 50 degrees. Yuck. Seriously, May? We might get some snow on Friday. Seriously, 2020?
I had a good day. I've had no real abdominal pain today, and I completed every item on my to-do list and then some: revised a scene in my novel, caught up on emails, and exercised on my elliptical (one of my favorite things to do). I'm really hoping I'm able to continue throughout the pregnancy. With V, I had to stop walking on my treadmill, but that was because of the impact. I'll have to find a cheap stationary bike if my belly gets too big for the elliptical or if I start having balance issues. 
I also chatted on the phone to a friend for an hour and a half. I'm really bad about neglecting to do things like that. We talked about how it's nuts that so many people are producing content for us to do at home "while we're bored." Who is bored? I don't know these people. Most of the people I know are busier than ever with childcare and working and keeping their houses from falling down around their ears as their families destroy them every day.
Stephen went to work today and came home really tired, then realized he forgot his computer at church, so he had to go back and get it. He said he's so busy keeping things going at work, and then he did our first grocery shopping run in twelve days at the Giant, and that's just exhausting because when you only shop every couple of weeks you need a lot of stuff, and then there are all the precautions, and even putting away the groceries involves wiping them down and then wiping down the counters where the bags were. It's a whole thing. We can't really order delivery because of my celiac disease and other food issues. I can't just take whatever replacements they find. He found Clorox spray today, though, so that's good.
G was moving a lot last night, but I discovered that if I pat him and talk to him he calms down. I had to stand up and rock him during dinner tonight because he was turning flips or something. I was afraid he was going to get himself tangled in the cord.
V did her big reveal of the news in a video today, so now the cat is completely out of the bag. I'm 24 weeks tomorrow, so it's probably about time.
I'm tired too, and I've been at the keyboard in one way or another most of the day. I know my sentences are running together in a weird way. Time to get a shower and get in the bed and read and watch some good streaming stuff.
May 8, 2020
I had my 24-week appointment today. Everything looks good. Heartbeat at 150, perfect fundal height. The same restrictions were in place as last time, except now they have plexiglass barriers up at check-in and check-out, so I was able to schedule my next appointment in the office. Last time I had to call later. Aunt Sharon made V and I really pretty masks that seal over our faces with a drawstring, so I wore that. I did have to bring home a lot of papers this time. (They're now in quarantine for a few days.) I did my same strip/shower/clean routine when I got home. Maybe it's overkill, but I'd rather do too much. 
I have to go to the hospital lab at 27 weeks to do my gestational diabetes test, which I'm not thrilled about. 
I'm about to go work out on my elliptical. I've seen headlines that say a regular exercise routine may keep you from the worst of COVID-19. Who knows? I do it anyway, so it would be nice if that were true.
Then I plan to fold a huge load of laundry tonight. Stephen has some Zoom call he has to do, and I've already had my shower, so I guess I'll do it then.
Today it was rainy and cold (pouring now), and it's supposed to be a weekend of record-breaking cold, with possible measurable snow. I have the sniffles and a scratchy throat, which I always get this time of year because of the constantly changing weather. It does, however, look like starting next Friday we should be consistently in the 70s, so that's exciting. 
We had three male goldfinches in our yard today, eating the dandelions. This is the first year I've seen the goldfinches, and the first year I've seen the birds eating the dandelions.
May 12, 2020
I have a vague memory of reading that the NWHM would like us to journal every day. Ha—that's not even really an accurate way to get a reading of what's going on in this time. There's information in the very fact that I don't have time to journal every day, even though I'm not "essential." Ha, again. When you have low self-worth anyway, it's great for your self-esteem to hear how non-essential you are all the time. Especially when you can't finish your to-do list from one day to the next because things keep coming up.
But then, I'm "just a mom." A mom with a lot of anger and rage at the way things are going right now. I'm not upset about the quarantine, or the shortages, or all the extra child and homecare I have to do. History teaches us that sometimes things suck, and we have to buck up and get through them.
No, I'm tired of all the articles about how women are being affected by this. Less time to "work," to publish, to make money. I know it's important, but it's just depressing to have to see it all the time. I'm also angry at the people who are stupid enough to think everything's just going to go back to the way things were in January. And I'm really angry at the people who won't wear masks and can't handle any of this without abusing or killing workers who try to make them comply. I'm mad at the conspiracy theorists, and all the people who won't just shut up and stop whining because they're experiencing minor inconveniences.
Sunday, May 10, was Mother's Day. V and Stephen got me a giant thing of lotion (great to have with itchy pregnancy skin and weird pandemic shortages), a puzzle of "Jane Austen's Book Club," (I had asked for a puzzle) and a signed copy of Code Name Verity, which Stephen said I should have on MD for obvious reasons, like my child's name. I liked it fine, but it kind of felt like making the day about the kid instead of about me. V was so excited to celebrate MD. She also colored a card for me that came from the Art Museums of Colonial Williamsburg's online activity file.
We got Sue a gift card from Lowe's since she wanted stuff for her house. We got Mom the "Summer" puzzle from The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady collection at Bas Bleu. When I ordered it, it said "In Stock and Ready to Ship," but a few days later I got an email that it was backordered until 5/22. The pandemic has been good for the puzzle companies, for sure. Her card will also be late because it's another that V colored and I didn't have the idea until Saturday, and I haven't mailed it yet. We all decided cards from the store are a waste of money, and none of us wanted a card a bunch of people probably touched, anyway.
V and I did church in the morning, as usual on Sunday. It's nice to have that anchor to the week—something that we do at the same time every week. 
My big news is that I'm finally getting a screened porch! I'm so excited! If we have to stay home for the next who knows how long, I want to spend my travel money on a porch. It can be built in about 2 weeks while maintaining social distancing because the builders will be outside. Hurray!!
The past two days I've had to take a 2-hour nap in the afternoon. After lunch I just feel like I can't even stand up. I hope I'm able to stop doing that. I tell myself, though, that sleep is the most important thing I can do for my immune system. Also, G is moving around a lot and that's just tiring. I worked out this afternoon just to rock him to sleep and get him to stop moving for a minute.
May 13, 2020
First off, I just want to say that I probably sound like a downer a lot in this journal, but that's because this is where I'm expressing my frustrations, rather than on Facebook or to my family. In public, I am really trying to do my part to keep morale up. 
I am not feeling great today. The past few nights I've been waking up in a cold sweat because I start the night with too many covers and then I get hot, then cold, and so on. The joys of the weather changing back and forth. I did not get a lot of sleep last night. 
I was okay through breakfast, but then I felt lightheaded while I was getting ready, just like I did on Sunday morning when I nearly fainted. I'm continuing to feel that way, so I'm just doing what I can, which is all any of us can do.
I'm feeling frustrated, though, because I want to work on my novel, and I need to do laundry, and I want to clean and do projects around the house, and all I've done so far this morning is some online shopping for things I need for G's room (laundry hamper and closet hanging shelves)—but I do need those in order to start putting his room together, so there's that. I'm only at around 25 weeks, but I like to have things done.
May 15, 2020
For the first time in five days, I did not need a nap. Maybe it's because it was a beautiful day (sunny, high of 83) and I was able to open the windows all day. I actually have the windows open in my office now at 9:00 p.m., and it's pleasant. The fresh air helps. I read outside until it was too hot, and V and Stephen played with her new "Stomp Rockets" outside twice.  I did some minor cleaning and a load of laundry. V and I colored together and we called Mimi (my mom) because she likes to color and we all colored together.
Feeling super annoyed at the people who think all this is a hoax. I'll be interested to see what happens as states start reopening even as cases are going up. I'm also torn on what to do for school next year. We're definitely keeping V home from her daycare, which she was supposed to go to 2 days a week in the summer. Kind of a bummer for all of us, but we're getting used to this new normal, and we're lucky we can shelter in place and have not yet had any economic impact, though I expect it will get to us eventually.
I'm trying to get Stephen to rest. He was so exhausted last night, and he was supposed to take today off, but he worked some anyway. I've accepted that my job for the duration of this is to keep my family as safe and well as I can. Don't tell me I'm not "leaning in." I already know. There are other ways of measuring success than in a career, thank you. I'm not on earth to make myself miserable trying to "have it all."
May 17, 2020
There are a few things it might be helpful to know about me. I didn't always want to be a wife and mother. In fact, I actively DIDN'T want to be as a child and adolescent. [Because *gestures to how the world but especially the United States treats wives and mothers*] Even after I found I couldn't live without Stephen, the love of my life, I was terrified of getting pregnant. I think that's natural when you're told by society your whole life that that's the worst thing that can happen to you and it will completely derail your career. 
Turns out a lot of things can derail your career.
I graduated from college with a B.A. in History, and then I decided to become a children's librarian, so I spent a year getting an MLIS. While I was getting the MLIS, Stephen was in seminary at Princeton. We were in a long distance relationship for two years, and then when he was in his final year of seminary, I got a job in New Jersey to be near him.
And I missed academia so much that after we got married and moved to Illinois, I decided I needed to go back and continue my abusive relationship with the academy, so I got an MA in English Studies. Those were the hardest three years of my life: being a pastor's wife and a graduate student. The church did its share of making things difficult, but the real problem was the nastiness of the English Department at Illinois State University. Even though Stephen had gone to Princeton and we were "liberals" and the PC(USA) is pretty liberal, they put me through hell. I was bullied relentlessly. I also got really sick with celiac disease during this time. I lost a lot of weight and struggled to leave the house because I couldn't be too far away from a bathroom. Thanks to my marriage and Stephen's job, the two main things I was bullied for, I had health insurance, something few of my grad student colleagues could boast. My graduate director told me that there were two things the academy would never forgive me for: being married and being a Christian. She was both, so I assume she knew.
But all bad things end, eventually. I guess that's one way I'm surviving quarantine. I've been through much worse. I did apply to Ph.D. programs, and Stephen was perfectly willing to move and support me, but then he was offered a lifeline of a job in Peoria as an Associate Pastor at a normal church (not a crazy small town one), and the Ph.D. programs that had admitted me cut their stipends. The choice was clear. 
I got a job as an adjunct English instructor at the local community college, where I worked for the next five years. I assume you know that colleges and universities had stopped almost all tenure-track hiring and gone to contingent labor by 2009 (when this happened). Insulting pay, no health insurance or other benefits, constant putdowns, zero collective bargaining. I'm not going to rehash for you the whole sorry history of that time and how higher ed sowed the seeds of its own destruction through nothing but pure greed. 
Perhaps it's enough to know that in the end, I decided that if I could not have the great career I had envisioned for myself, at least I could have a happy life. I eventually woke up from the academy's abuse and gaslighting, from its cult-like nature. I began to freelance in educational writing in 2012. In December 2013, a month before my 32nd birthday, I got pregnant with V. I handed in my notice to the community college before I even knew I was pregnant. I could make more money freelancing from home than they were paying me to teach.
So now, as colleges and universities fret about how they'll survive, I really don't feel sorry for them. Higher ed has abused people long enough. I will always love learning. I wish I could have had my dream of being a professor. But very few people get that anymore, and I wasn't willing to give up Stephen, my health, my peace, my financial stability, my health insurance, and the children I wanted to have just to chase an old dream that was long gone (not from my heart, but from the world.)
So now I'm a stay-at-home mom and a freelance writer. I do decently well out of that. For years, I've beaten myself up, thinking I failed. No—I didn't. I'm a millennial. The jobs open to me were contingent, low-paying, and had no security. Stephen's provides us with a good living and a good life (and great health insurance). I haven't failed. Whenever I was faced with a decision, I made the smart one, not necessarily the "follow your dreams" one. When your dream is being a professor and that job doesn't exist anymore, you have to move on. Maybe that's another reason I can accept a new normal. I've accepted it before.
During those terrible years of the church and the academy and the illness, my mother said, "You are being made strong." I think that was true.
Don't get me wrong. It's probably obvious from this that I'm a bit defensive about being a wife and mother—I assume if you're reading this you're a grad student or some kind of academic and you don't understand and you look down your nose at me and assume I'm being oppressed.
Maybe. But if anyone oppresses me, it isn't my husband and children. The academy oppressed me far more than they ever did. 
The truth is, this was the best gig life offered me, when you take into account the cruelty of the workplace in general and the academic workplace in particular. Late-stage capitalism, right?
And it's a great gig. I spent so many years being afraid of motherhood, but I love being a mom. I am madly in love with my amazing husband. We are a team. We support each other in different ways, and that's not weakness. That's family. 
I get to travel and read and write and learn all the time—all the things that were ever important to me. He cooks me amazing dinners every night and does all our grocery shopping even under normal circumstances. He does his own laundry. He sees the uneven load on men and women and does his best to even things out wherever he can.
So my career didn't work out—and I learned not to count on your plans. But my life did.
And in the end, here in this place where we live only with our own households, I see how important a household is, and I hope others will too.
Caretaking is not the worst way to spend your life, and I hope someday we will realize that again.
I came around, after all.
May 18, 2020
I've had a great day today. It's 71 degrees for the high, so I've been able to have the windows open, which makes a huge difference in my mood and energy levels. I've been listening to the birds chatter all day and getting that nice breeze, and it's just lifechanging. V did really well with the calendar program I found for her yesterday. I had a good videochat with my therapist this morning, and we agreed that I'm doing fine, so I can go to every two weeks now, and after that perhaps a monthly check-in.  I got a lot done on my revisions to my novel. As usual, it turns out what needed to be done wasn't nearly as scary as I imagined. I ate lunch. I worked out. I'm reading The Read-Aloud Revival by Sarah MacKenzie and psyching myself up to know that I can homeschool V in the fall if I need to and it could be great. 
Stephen came home and after he gave V a bath and got her settled for quiet time, he asked me if I could start him some water for tea and we had a good chat about how exhausted he is. If he's admitting it, I know it's serious. He says it's largely decision fatigue and just the constant content production he's doing to keep people engaged at church and also the fear of letting people slip through the cracks, and all the weddings and funerals and baptisms that can't happen right now. He feels bad ever stopping at anything or asking me to do anything. I told him that I take care of myself and he should feel free to do that too. We talked about how he needs to build moments of renewal into his day and into his week. I told him I want him to take a half-day every week for himself, and we planned that his first one will be Friday afternoon, when he's going to get in the bed and watch The Rise of Skywalker. I told him that if he doesn't feel like cooking dinner (which he does every night), he should let me know. I can cook or we can just have something simple. 
It's strange how the pandemic has brought me so much closer to God. I haven't prayed more or read the Bible or a devotional much at all, because I can feel the presence of God and I'm afraid of breaking the connection I feel, of messing it up. I think the crisis with G in March and the pandemic following so closely on its heels has helped me separate the chaff from the wheat and realize what's really important in life. People. Relationships. Peace. It's not surprising to me that the WWII generation could be so content with what seemed like a boring life of comfortable homes, unsurprising careers, and nuclear families. They'd been through hell. I've only stared in from the antechamber, been given a glimpse of the horrors I've avoided.
Stephen's favorite Bible verse is 2 Corinthians 5:17: "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" 
I feel like for the first time, I understand what that means. For the first time, I feel new. I feel that I've been freed from my crippling perfectionism, my sense of failure and of wasting my life, the false message that choosing to spend my life in love and care for others is somehow wrong.
Yesterday, our church book club discussed Anne of Green Gables. A huge theme of the last chapter (go read it) is joyful sacrifice for others (and not only by women. Gilbert Blythe makes one of the sacrifices.) I read it with new eyes. Sacrifice is not always bad. Our individualistic culture says it is, but it's wrong. Sure, sometimes it happens in a wrong way. But in our family, we all sacrifice for each other, we all do what we are best suited to.
The pandemic situation isn't fun. I've struggled with the lack of fresh fruits and vegetables when you only shop twice a month. But it's not without its gifts. I am learning to actually love myself for the first time, not because of how perfect or productive I am, but solely because I am a living human being who is a child of God, and that's enough.
May 20, 2020
I've had a rough couple of days, pregnancy-wise. My stomach really hurts. I took a 3-hour nap yesterday afternoon because I couldn't sleep the night before because of allergies, and I was having Braxton-Hicks contractions every time I moved. I took a 1 ½ hour-nap today because I didn't sleep well again. Weather changed—cooler today. Luckily my long-sleeved turtlenecks and my fleece jacket still fit. 
I've tossed the first routine I made out the window. It wasn't flexible enough, and if we can't have some flexibility these days, what can we have? It's also summer, and I like to be more relaxed in summer. I told V how one of my favorite parts of summer as a little girl was staying up as late as I wanted to read. I'm letting her choose when to turn off her light and she almost always does by 8:30. 
One thing that's really bringing me joy these days is eating breakfast in my pajamas and wearing the light blue "Tea Time" robe that my Grandma Grace got me years and years ago. It had been up in my closet since we moved. I was getting tired of wearing the heavy dark robes, even if it is still cool in the mornings. The light blue makes it feel like spring, and I feel joy every time I wear it because Grandma Grace gave it to me.
So we're having more leisurely mornings, and we've had two successful days of implementing a relaxed homeschooling plan for summer. If we do end up homeschooling in the fall, thanks to the pandemic, I want to have some practice. And V has really enjoyed what we do. I'll share our schedule once I get it established. 
Tonight we got to read together for an hour and a half. Stephen had a Zoom Session [what Presbyterians call their church boards] meeting at 7:00, so we ate early. We finished the last 30 pages or so of The Princess and Curdie, and then we read two picture books. It was wonderful.
And now I'm going to take a shower and get in the bed. Carrying around what is essentially a water balloon the size of a soccer ball with a two-pound weight in it gets exhausting. 
May 21, 2020
I'm wearing a fleece jacket and sitting next to an open window while I write. It's supposed to top out at 70 today, so I'm trying to get fresh air while I can because it's supposed to rain for the next two days. Ugh. I will never get used to May being so cold.
Today should have been V's last day of preschool. Her teachers had pick-up days this week for anything the children left in the classroom and their end-of-year gifts. It's a little basket of play-doh, bubbles, that sort of thing. It's really sweet that they remembered to do it—and now I'm remembering I should have done teacher gifts. It completely slipped my mind. They also sent home mortarboards and certificates of completion and had us take the children's pictures for a virtual promotion ceremony. Stephen took V's picture for that on Tuesday. Luckily, I remembered that I had the little cardstock pages for her first and last days of school, so we filled that out and took pictures today. I also had Stephen take a bump picture, as today I am 26 weeks and officially six months pregnant. 
I have to say, I have felt exhausted a lot and I was absolutely starving at lunch. I ate a ton, so it was nice to be able to do that in private. Last week, V told Nana how much she misses "Daddy-Daughter Lunches," so she and Stephen have gone over to Nana's empty house (Nana and Papa Al have gone to our family cabin in Upstate NY) to order from Simply Greek and have lunch on the deck and hang out there for a while. I hope it helps V's mood. She's definitely been feeling really emotional today, crying at the drop of a hat.
I feel like I could lie down and sleep for a couple of hours, but I'm going to try to go ahead and work out instead. I'm so tired of losing my afternoons to sleep. There are so many things I want to do.
I'm signed up to attend an online open house for the PA Virtual Charter School at 6:00 p.m., but I don't think I'm going to do it. It really sounds like I could do a better job with just homeschooling for Kindergarten. The CDC released their guidelines for school and childcare today, which I know is their job, but I also know it's impossible to keep little kids apart, and it's not healthy for them not to be touched all day. I can't imagine having to wear a mask for seven hours straight, so I won't ask V to. We'll find another option.
She's doing a great job with the new homeschool schedule I've worked up just to see if it's even an option. We have structured mornings and unstructured afternoons, which I think works for all of us. In the morning we get up and have breakfast in our jammies. Then we do the "Morning Bag," which means we do her Calendar Notebook, which includes time, temperature, calendar math, handwriting, and weather. Then we read and study a poem from Sing A Song of Seasons: A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year. Then we read a Bible story. Then she gets to choose a book or a chapter of a book to read.
After that, she has independent choice time for about an hour and a half while I get ready and do some work. At 11:00, I get her dressed and we have snack. By 11:30 we're ready for "Mommy School," where we work on her nature journal, study an Emergent Reader book, and work on our topic of the week. (I think—we haven't really gotten that far with planning. I'm planning to start that in June and follow her interests.)
At 12:30ish we eat lunch, and then the afternoon is divided between Quiet Time, Structured and Unstructured Activities, Bath, and Clean-up Time. I was finding it futile to try to keep those in regular order because each day is a little different, and that's okay. And then we have dinner starting around 6:00 and try to have her in bed by 8:00 and reading independently until she's ready for lights out. Stephen does most of the afternoon activities, including giving her a bath (it hurts for me to bend down), and making dinner. They often play or walk outside, so she's pretty dirty and gets a bath when she comes in rather than waiting until later.
That schedule has worked for four days. Tomorrow is Friday, and it will be a whole week. 
May 26, 2020
I see that it's been almost a week since I've written. I've thought about it, put it on my to-do list, had the best of intentions. But to be honest, I've been so tired. Part of it is the pregnancy, part of it is that I suspect my thyroid is low again, and part of it is that it's always hard for me to sleep in the summer when the birds wake up at 4:30 and it's light in my room by 5:00 even with the room darkening shades. So for the past 5 days or so, I've needed an afternoon nap. I didn't need one today, so I got a lot done from my to-do list, including getting back to work on my novel.
I feel like I'm falling behind because I am, I guess. I've listed projects and cleaning, but it's all hard to get done because I'm so tired and because G is getting really heavy and hard to carry around all day. It would be so nice to live in a world where motherhood is valued. I'm really sorry about how awful the effects of the pandemic are going to be on women. It seems like a lot of people may have to quit or reduce their work for a while in order to provide childcare and education. Of course it's mostly women. Men tend to make more money, so if the decision is financial, which it always is, the women quit their jobs. It sucks, but we've all been miserable since there's been the demand that everyone do everything. I hope things do change and that eventually they become better for all of us. And I hope part of that is that caretaking is valued again and seen as a viable and even an honorable way to spend your life. 
My goal right now is keeping my children alive and healthy. Everything else pales in comparison to that. My second goal is helping my husband continue to do well at the job that supports us because that's where our money comes from and we need it. So if that means I become a full-fledged housewife, then so be it. Maybe it isn't fair—I've read a lot of articles today about the effects of the pandemic, and one of the conclusions was that a lot of things aren't going to be fair about this. (It would be great, though, if people could stop the shaming of women who aren't in the paid workforce and do the care work. I'm really bitter about it, especially since my own situation came about through societal forces beyond my control.) According to one survey 6 in 10 parents don't want their children returning to school in the fall and 1 in 5 teachers don't plan to come back. I have almost 100% decided to homeschool V. She definitely won't be going to daycare this summer. It won't hurt her not to go, and that way she can hang out with Great-Grandma and Nana and Papa Al in relative safety, not to mention G when he arrives.
I read an article last night that said 12 out of 16 pregnant women who had COVID also had damaged placentas that kept nutrients and oxygen from their babies. I'll be so relieved just to have him out in the world. I know that study was not in any way conclusive and definitely a small sample, but it's unsettling nonetheless. Now I'm extra freaked-out to go to the hospital lab for my Gestational Diabetes testing on Thursday.
June 1, 2020
Well. I see it's been almost another week. I ended up going to a Quest Lab in Harrisburg to get my Gestational Diabetes test done. Again, totally freaked out by contact. To top it off, the doctor ordered the wrong test and the phlebotomist had to call the office to confirm the right one, so I had to stay longer.
V's doing really well with her homeschool tasks/schedule. It's more relaxed and I think that works. I wish the schools would just let us know what they're thinking for fall so that I could make a decision based on that. I got so down reading all the comments on the articles about school plans for fall. It really is true that "Where you sit is where you stand." Some people were saying they need school to be normal so they can work—that's true. And then others were responding that they have immunocompromised children or folks in their households whose lives they don't want to risk—and that's true too. And people were just yelling at each other because that's all America is anymore, a big pile of screaming. I felt so guilty for having the privilege to choose to homeschool V if that's what's right for her. But then I decided that all I really can do in this case is make the right decision for my child and our family. (I know—you'll say I should be thinking about everyone else. How exactly? How should I balance the need of one family to work against the need of another family to keep its immunocompromised members alive? Please, future readers, tell me your thoughts. Monday morning quarterback this for me.)
But really I've hardly thought about coronavirus in several days because it's been drowned out by the protests and the screaming from all sides about that. It's a good thing we are semi-shutdown, honestly. To be clear, I get what the protesters are upset about, and I'm committed to doing more anti-racist work on myself. Everything is wrong in our country right now.
Re: coronavirus, though, I'll be interested to see where things stand in a couple of weeks after last weekend's Memorial Day huge gatherings and this past weekend's huge protests.
In positive news, some neighbors down the street wanted to get rid of a scooter and bike that just fit V, so we got those for free. She's doing really well on the scooter and really enjoys it. She's never had much interest in learning to ride a bike before, though we did try. Good thing we did get them for free because even kids' bikes are running $200 now. There's huge demand, I guess. Some industries are doing well out of the pandemic.
V and I are reading Enid Blyton's The Magical Faraway Tree Collection, a 3-in-1 book we bought at the bookstore next door to the house where Jane Austen died in Winchester [in February 2020]. I've never read any Enid Blyton, but so far it's a great escapist read. While I am all for reading to educate yourself, I am also all for great escapist reads. If I thought I had to spend my reading life (one of the more important parts of my life, tbh) only reading prescribed book lists, I would give up. I need to escape into a book sometimes to be able to handle real life. 
And I am so tired—so literally tired. Pregnancy is hard, and I will be so glad never to do it again.
June 10, 2020
I got a text from my friend this morning asking how I'm doing. I was finally honest. This is what I said:
I'm an anxious/angry mess right now bc of the push to reopen everything. With being pregnant (29 weeks tomorrow) and the fact that no one really knows how it affects a fetus and the guidelines and theories keep changing, etc., I'm not going anywhere for a while. I'm very happy to stay in my burrow until Christmas.
This morning Lina [my dog] and the dog next door got in each other's faces and I'm freaked out about that because who knows if dogs can get it or spread it. The jury's out. It's out on everything: how contagious COVID-19 is, why it kills some people and barely affects others, what school will look like in the fall, and perhaps most important for me—how it affects a fetus. 
I was doing okay until I read a small study that said 12/16 women with COVID-19 had damage to their placentas that limited transmission of nutrients and oxygen to their babies. I had my 28-week appointment on June 5, and I asked the midwife about it. She said she had read it too, and we just don't know, and our data is all going to be retrospective at this point. 
I really struggled with how I was feeling over the past week. Mostly, I was so incredibly tired. My thyroid levels are at 2.6. They like them under 3.0, but I've gone up a whole point from last month, which means my thyroid is working too hard. I can feel the muscle soreness from it.  I know I need more, but I didn't feel like fighting for it at the doctor's office. I just wanted to get in and out. I had to take a 2-hour nap every single day. Also, I have really low blood pressure and nearly passed out several times. I got my TDaP vaccine on Friday and my arm hurt for a few days. I know—I'm whining. I'm super privileged and I'm whining because I feel like a slacker for needing a nap—at least I can take one.
The biggest issue, though, has been my inability to sleep. I'm not sure where it's coming from. I'm not uncomfortable at night and I've only been getting up about once a night to use the bathroom—which I do anyway. When I do sleep I have such vivid dreams that it doesn't seem like I'm asleep. I've been falling asleep around midnight, sleeping til around 2:00, up from 2:00-4:00ish, fitful semi-consciousness from 4:00-6:00, and then wide awake but so exhausted I can't get out of bed. That’s not exact, but it's about how every night goes.
I have seen articles that say people are having strange dreams in quarantine (and that people dream differently under authoritarian regimes, which Trump is trying his best to impose on us, though we're not there yet). And of course, pregnancy dreams are weird anyway.
I saw my reproductive psychiatrist yesterday (through telehealth), and she prescribed a lower dose of the sleeping pill she prescribed "as needed" back in March. I had taken it a few times and it left me groggy the next day, hence the lower dose.
I've also been living my life in one long Braxton-Hicks contraction, and G loves to stretch and push on my abdomen, which hurts sometimes, and the only thing that helps is lying down on my maternity pillow and resting.
I'm making it sound like everything is awful, and it's really not. I'm just worn down by the constant anxiety of pregnancy compounded with anxiety about COVID and reopening and anxiety about the state of the world and feeling like I should do more but also feeling like sometimes I don't have the bandwidth to keep up. This morning I asked myself if I had the bandwidth to look at the news, and I did not, so I didn't. 
In happy news, our contractor has the plans for the screened porch in to the HOA, so he should be able to get to work on that soon. This morning, I saw the landscapers checking out the plants that died last year, so I guess those will be replaced soon. Gosh, I sound like such a suburban white lady, which is what I am. I guess my philosophy is, if we're going to be home, thanks to a new baby and a pandemic, we might as well make home as pleasant as possible. I'm not looking forward to the noise of having the porch built—and mainly to having to get dressed first thing—but I'm happy to have the porch, and incredibly grateful that we're able to do it. I've wanted one our entire marriage so I can enjoy the fresh air without dealing with the bugs and the sun. I think it will be great for V and G, too.
I'm okay, just so tired all the time. 
June 22, 2020
Wow, so to be honest, I somehow totally forgot about doing this. In the last twelve days, I've been checked for leaking amniotic fluid/early labor (everything's fine), gotten a better dose of my thyroid medication and started feeling lots better, and decided not to try to travel all the way up to our family's cabin outside Malone, NY this year.
We also celebrated Father's Day yesterday. V made cards for all three of her papas and a rebus story for Stephen called "Daddy and I Love to Cook." She wanted to find a card about cooking with Dad on the internet to print and color, but thanks to gender stereotypes, there are many about dads grilling but zero about dads cooking. So she made her own, and it was wonderful. We also gave Stephen two UPF 50 t-shirts and several works of coloring art.
We decided on Saturday to cancel our trip to what we call "Camp" this year. Don't be too impressed. It's the family cabin that Stephen's grandpa built in 1960 and it's rustic, to say the least. We were going to have to stay in a rented cabin and just go over during the day, anyway, because there's no room for us and one bathroom. When we initially made this plan, we thought things might be better by July re: pandemic, but instead everything's opening up and the pandemic hasn't gone away, so I feel less safe. The place we were renting usually doesn't have many renters in the summer because it's more of a ski place, but when we looked again, there were people staying there right before us, and who knows how well they clean/sanitize? I wouldn't have been comfortable. I'm keeping track of everything said about travel, and it's recommended you leave 3 days between guests, which they weren't doing. The main reason we're not going, though, is the travel up there. I have to go to the bathroom every three seconds because G is sitting on my bladder in a way V never did, and it hurts. We would be constantly getting in and out of the car so I could walk and use the bathroom. And I'm just in a lot of pain otherwise from the Braxton-Hicks and the general pain of the tight muscles in my abdomen. Yesterday was 7 months. 
Today was the first day we've gotten into the high 80s. Stephen set up V's new Frozen 2 pool under an awning, and I sat outside with my feet in the pool and read to her while she played, which she thought was amazing. It was really lovely in the shade and very summery. My "maternity bathing suit" consists of my regular bathing suit bottoms and a tank top. It seems pointless to buy a maternity swimsuit at this point since we're not going to camp and I'll be mostly sheltering-in-place for the rest of this pregnancy, which could be only another six weeks if he came at 37 weeks. I am going to have to buy some new shorts, though, as the elastic has gone in the ones I wore with V. He's also sitting lower, so there's nothing "under the bump," so this time I need "over the bump" clothes. The pandemic has saved me money in new maternity clothes, that's for sure. I'm going to get a couple more pairs of the yoga shorts from Old Navy. They're the only comfortable shorts I have right now, and I can wear them after the pregnancy, too. 
V has been really sweet about not going to camp. There's no beach at the lake this year because the water is so high, and it's really hot up there with no air conditioning. Camp can be kind of miserable, honestly. And they got WiFi this year, so now there's not even the ability to unplug. I told Stephen to take the vacation anyway, since he's already planned for it, and we're going to try to make that week really special for V.
July 2, 2020
Okay, so it's been a while since I journaled. Busy, tired, pregnant, etc. And honestly I just forgot about it. Let's see: V's been doing a great job at "Mommy school," which for the moment consists mainly of our Morning Bag Activities: Calendar/Weather/Math Notebook (which she loves); reading a Bible Story; reading a poem from Sing a Song of Seasons, her nature poem activity book; reading a "choice" book (her choice). We've been doing so much reading, too. When we were in England in February, I got her Enid Blyton's The Magic Faraway Tree Collection (3 books in one) and she's obsessed. We're now reading it for the second time straight through. I've never read any Blyton before. V has amazing reading comprehension. She remembers so many details from a 600+ page book that she's had read to her once. It's amazing.
[Here I cut a large part of this that deals with decision making while pregnant in a pandemic and the family strife that causes. It's very valuable, and I kept it in the original journal, but if it gets back to my family that I put it all on public record, it could destroy relationships. I really wish this weren't all being made available to the public right away. I'm afraid of being judged/canceled/otherwise harassed for being honest about my feelings.]
Today I went for my 32-week appointment—alone as usual. Stephen waited for me in the car, but I'm going to have him stop doing that since it's getting really hot now. Before, I was just so nervous after March that they were going to give me bad news while I was alone. Everything looked perfect. I'm exactly 32 cm. fundal height, blood pressure is still low, midwife was super understanding about my thyroid med needs and tested it again. The nurse who took my blood asked if I had plans for the weekend and said she was going to a cookout, which didn't make me feel super secure. 
I have a lot more to say, but it's 9:50 p.m. and I'm exhausted. I can't wait to get in the bed, eat fruit, and watch Top Chef. 
July 3, 2020
I've been thinking a lot about women's anxiety and how we respond to it—with medication and therapy and generally thinking women are crazy. I've also been thinking about the theory that women's natural and normal responses to distressing situations are pathologized. I'm not against medication or therapy. I'm on an antidepressant right now and I see a maternal mental health therapist every other week. Think about Bertha Mason Rochester in Jane Eyre: Did she start out crazy or did she go crazy because she was locked in an attic for years? Come to think of it, why do the Brontës love men who are clearly villains? I'd set fire to Rochester's bed, too, if he pulled that behavior with me.  Often, tears and frustration are a completely NORMAL response to a distressing situation.
And so it is with COVID-19. I brought this up with my therapist on Monday. I said that I felt like I was constantly being told not to feel anxiety, but that in my opinion, the level of anxiety I am feeling is a perfectly normal one to be feeling when one is pregnant in a pandemic. She said that I'm completely right. Yesterday, the midwife said that she can't imagine being in my shoes—pregnant in a pandemic and preparing to deliver in a hospital while trying to protect myself and my baby and the rest of my family. At least some people realize it's perfectly normal to feel anxiety about this. I have to worry about how the birth is going to go, plus all the COVID stuff. I am so scared I will have to give birth alone. That is a perfectly reasonable thing to worry about!!
July 7, 2020
I had my best 4th of July in years this year. To be honest, ever since Trump was elected, I haven't been in the mood to celebrate—I felt more ashamed than proud. This year, we needed a reason to celebrate, whatever the reason, something to break up the summer and help us have some fun. It was an opportunity for me to remember my grandmother and the parties we used to have at the lake when I was a kid. 
We watched the premiere of Hamilton! on July 3. Then we started July 4 with watercolor painting for decorations. I used old markers soaked in water to make watercolors, a trick I saw on the internet. We made red and blue and did some painting while we talked to Mimi and Papa. I had prepped V during the week with a little geography study of the 50 states and the 13 original colonies, so she has a grasp of it. It's important to know the history and geography of your country, even if you don't agree with the decisions people made hundreds of years ago—or even now. I'm trying to balance knowledge and patriotism with humility and critical thinking. I think we'd be much better off if more people could do that and not have to be all "Love it or leave it" or "Burn it to the ground."
Sorry, I'm just grumpy. Exhausted, like everyone is. I know, it's a privilege to get to be exhausted. Though, FYI, I'm exhausted because I'm engaged and trying to continue to work toward a better America rather than checking out. As I say every 4th, political independence from Great Britain did not mean independence from every other human on earth. We still owe each other a lot.
Anyway, Stephen set up the good pool for us and we played in it for a couple of hours. It was hot, but with the shade the pool never got warm. I enjoyed letting myself float in the water. (32 weeks now, and every movement of the bump is painful). We made Watermelon-Lime Slushies and drank them in our bathing suits on the patio. It was really lovely and summery. (I found a maternity bathing suit at half price and did end up buying it.)
Then for dinner we had Carolina mustard-based pork barbecue (the only kind that counts), cornbread muffins, salad, and peaches with whipped cream. We ate our peaches on the patio at 8:30. It was really lovely and peaceful.
Stephen then went over to check on Sue and Al's house, and on his way back he saw that the full moon was really large and orange, so he got V out of bed and we all drove to look at it. She was so upset to miss the last full moon in June. We turned around at the township building, and then we noticed we could see a lot of the fireworks that people were setting off in their yards since a lot of the bigger shows were canceled. We got a nice little surprise show. I haven't seen fireworks in years because I usually have to stay home with our dog, Lina, who hates them. We did hurry home after a few minutes for that reason. She wasn't too upset, but she wasn't too happy either. She got some treats. 
All in all, it was really a beautiful summer day in the midst of a very stressful time. I will cherish the memory.
July 18, 2020
Wow, I didn't realize it had been so long since I last journaled. The builders started on our back porch on July 9, so our days have been kind of loud lately. Not that that keeps me from taking a 1-3 hour nap every afternoon. It's weird how I struggle to sleep at night but have no trouble getting deep sleep in the afternoon. When I'm not pregnant, I have trouble napping at all. I'm trying hard to listen to my body and do what it needs. When I had V, I always felt like I had something to prove, like I had to avoid stereotypes at all costs. I promised myself if I had another baby, I wouldn't do that. I have nothing to prove. I am growing a human, in a pandemic. It takes a ton of energy.
V paid me the sweetest compliment the other day. She said when she sees me she sees a huge red heart shimmering around me because I love everything so much. Tonight she told me that her special gift is nurture. It's taking care of people and things and loving nature and making sure nothing in it is hurt. What beautiful thoughts she has.
On July 15 at midnight, we went back into partial lockdown with limits on restaurants and bars and social gatherings (25 inside, 250 outside). Telework must resume where possible. Cases are ticking up thanks to summer travel to and from the hotspots in the South and West, people refusing to wear masks, etc. I do not get the mask thing. Like even if you think it doesn't work, isn't it worth a shot? Isn't it worth trying something?
On July 16, we finally got the school plan for our district. I'm so relieved. I had been up until 2:00 a.m. the night before worrying about it. Lower Dauphin is not doing a full reopening at all, thank goodness, because apparently our leaders have some sense. There are two options: send your child two days a week and do online learning the other days or do a fully online model. We will be doing the fully online model. I feel bad because I'm afraid I won't be able to support V's learning in the same way that I would have if I hadn't had another baby, which makes me sad. I am doing my best to prepare her, though. I also want her to be able to get her own breakfast. That would help a lot. We'll pick out clothes the night before so she can get herself dressed. She's working on brushing her hair.
Speaking of hair, I gave us both haircuts this week and trimmed up the back of Stephen's where he had done it himself. Going to the hairdresser is still considered high-risk, and we're starting our super-quarantine as we get closer to G's birth. I'm actually really proud of the job I did. It's not perfect, but the split ends are gone and for someone who's never even watched a YouTube video and used plain old house scissors, I think I did a great job. The split ends are gone, anyway.
Speaking of G, I went to my 34-week appointment yesterday. My low bp was 88/50, so I definitely don't have preeclampsia. Everything looked good. I was in and out in about half an hour. Stephen and V did drive me because of the pain. He's sitting so low it's uncomfortable a lot of the time. They went and got milkshakes while I was in my appointment so they didn't have to just sit in the car in the heat. 
We're in a massive heat wave until the middle of next week.
I slept poorly again last night and took a nap from 1:30-4:30. Stephen and V went to Sue's house and ordered Greek food and watched FROZEN 2. Stephen hurt a nerve sleeping and could hardly move, but he said he could sit still there as well as anywhere. Bless his heart, he also cleaned the kitchen and vacuumed the whole house for me this morning because he knew it was bothering me. Sometimes I feel all the stress is starting to get to us as a couple, but he really is wonderful.
July 25, 2020
I saw that it's five months until Christmas today. What will the world look like by then, I wonder? 
They finished our porch today. I'm pretty excited to get the furniture on Monday, which is when it's supposed to be delivered. Today I took a nap, as usual. That's become my routine because it's getting so hard to sleep at night. A few nights ago, I was sobbing because G was sitting on my cervix. I hate having my cervix touched. Having it checked was the worst part of giving birth to V.  Right now I just have to pee all the time, and I also can't sleep when he gets up under my ribs. I felt pretty angry around 1:00 a.m. I have mixed feelings about the end of the pregnancy. Like I'll be sad and delighted to never be pregnant again.
V and Stephen went over to Nana's empty house for another Daddy-Daughter afternoon and take-out lunch from the Greek restaurant. Apparently, V can go through some gyro. Stephen said she ate a whole one that was the same size as his. She's in a massive growth spurt, though.
We've had to switch away from fantasy novels and stories and on to realistic fiction for a while. She was getting too caught up in fantasy and having trouble falling asleep at night. She's back into Jane Austen. We read one of her biographies tonight. Proud mama moment: she remembered tons of stuff from our trips and she pointed out that the artist made a mistake in not having the mother sit at the foot of the table. She said, "Her novels make me want to write novels."  Love it. We're planning a Jane Austen week since it will be so hot next week. We're going to read her Usborne Complete Jane Austen, watch the movies, and put together the puzzle she got me for Mother's Day. Good times. 
For some reason, she's decided G isn't allowed to know about Jane Austen until he's 12 days old. Which I guess would be a good time to introduce him to Jane.
She's a very sweet big sister. She kisses and hugs my belly all the time. Tonight she told him, "Don't worry, G, there are still things we can do together even when you're just born. I can read to you and help you with tummy time and sing to you. And even when you're six and I'm twelve, I'll still want to play with you." She melts my heart every day.
July 27, 2020
Yesterday we took my maternity pictures. 35 weeks and 3 days. If it hadn't been for the pandemic, I would probably have hired a professional photographer to do them, as I did with V. This pregnancy has been such a different experience, and I don't want to treat it as if it is "less than" just because it's not my first. But there is a pandemic, so Stephen took pictures of V and me and me by myself with his iPhone, which has an amazing portrait mode that I think works just as well as many a professional shot. V got a few really great ones of me by myself and Stephen and me too. They came out really well, and for the most part, I don't feel like I look too gigantic.
It's been kind of a hard week, pregnancy-wise. I'm not able to sleep much at night because I get up every other hour to pee. I can't go to bed early because 10:00pm to midnight is G's moving-around-a-lot time. And I can't sleep late. I woke up at 6:00 today. My ankles are swollen, though a couple of days ago they were perfectly normal. I think it must be the heat wave. I've had to take a lot of naps and I've had to just learn to cut myself some slack on exercise. I can't do it every day when I'm not sleeping, especially in this heat.
On the bright side, V and I sat on the porch twice this morning. We went out around 8:00 and she ate her breakfast bar and I drank my tea. It was really pleasant. Then we went out again and had our snack out there around 11:00 and sat there until close to noon, when it did start feeling too hot. It was so nice to get some lovely fresh air, and I felt safe from bugs and bird poop and sunburn and even coronavirus. Lina really enjoyed it, too. She came running out with a big smile on her face.
I'm extremely worried about V. I see her dealing with a lot of similar anxiety patterns and unhealthy perfectionism that I have always struggled with. I'm not sure what to do. She gets so upset when she feels like she does anything wrong and berates herself far beyond what is necessary. This has always been a struggle but I feel like it has gotten worse, and I don't know what to do. I bought some books to read with her about it, and my psychiatrist gave me a referral to a really good child psychiatrist she knows at our appointment this morning. (Also had an appointment with my therapist.) I think it will be better when the heatwave is over and we can be outside more. We also finally broke down and bought a playset. The cost and logistics always seemed like too much before, but now that she can't go to school or playgrounds, she really needs one. This one was under $2000, will fit in our backyard, which is smaller (we have a huge, totally wasted side yard where the HOA won't let us put anything, and anyway, it's not fenced), and the people who built our porch are going to put it together. I hope it will give her an outlet for her energy and a way to get outside. I feel so guilty that the pregnancy has made me more afraid to see other people and more afraid for her to see other kids. I'm hoping once G is out and I can see if he's sick or not, I will feel more comfortable—but that will also depend on what happens this fall.
There's a lot going on for her right now—new baby brother, starting Kindergarten in a strange year. It's tough. 
August 3, 2020
If 2020 has taught me anything, it's that nothing is promised. I always knew that in theory, of course, but it's come home to me now that we have to live the lives we want NOW and not worry about some unpredictable, unforeseeable future that may never come. I thought I was going to lose G in March. Since then we've been living with the constant death toll numbers of the pandemic. 
This morning, we had to say goodbye to Lina.
A week ago, I never would have thought I would write those words, at least not anytime soon. She pooped and peed upstairs and then came downstairs and threw up on Friday afternoon. We didn't even know she was sick until Friday afternoon when she started throwing up a lot and then coughed up a little bit of blood. She's always coughed some. She's always occasionally thrown up some yellow bile. She's sometimes had low appetite. I can't get over the fact that she was obviously sick for a long time, and I didn't know. I thought she was just getting older and slowing down. She'd had all her regular check-ups, but nothing was ever amiss.
Stephen took her to the vet on Friday afternoon, where she had x-rays that showed one lung completely whited out and something around her liver. It was probably all advanced cancer according to two vets. They gave her 1-3 months, but she went downhill so quickly over the weekend. It was astonishing to watch, really.
Friday night she and Stephen slept in the guest room, which he covered with old sheets and puppy pads to catch anything. She threw up black bile with blood twice. Saturday was cloudy and cool, so she and I stayed on the porch from 9:30-4:30. She didn't move from one spot that whole time. We were able to get her to come in and go out eventually by all of us going to one place or the other so she would follow us, but it was hard. That night Stephen tried to get her to come up, but she stumbled on the steps and couldn't make it, so he slept with her in the den.
Sunday morning she was able to go out and go potty, and then she settled down on the porch with us and watched church on the livestream. V and I gave her communion and said Psalm 23 over her—I had been thinking about it a lot. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…" because I feel like I've been walking there all year. She threw up just a massive lake of yellow bile right at 10:30, and she tried to get to her water bowl, but she just laid her chin on the edge. I got her gulpy and got her to drink that way, and we brought the fan out as it got hotter, but she wouldn't go in. She seemed to lose all the strength in her back legs. Stephen eventually got her in by getting her in the cloth-sided kennel and carrying it inside. We all sat with her in the kitchen, sometimes all together, sometimes trading off. 
We knew it was time: she hadn't eaten since Thursday, she wasn't drinking, she could hardly move and couldn't seem to move her back legs at all. We made an appointment for Monday morning. Stephen found a company that makes stuffed animals exactly to your specifications so they look like your pet and ordered one for V. It was $200, but worth every penny to ease her pain.
*Stephen just texted me as I'm writing this. 10:10 a.m. 'It's done. Was peaceful. Petted her the whole time.'*
This morning she seemed a bit better. She hadn't thrown up since yesterday morning, and she got up and asked to go out. She went potty and wandered around the backyard some and then asked to come in. She sat on the kitchen floor and we managed to get her back into the kennel. V and I petted her and said goodbye and good luck. We were hoping against hope that maybe she was feeling better and it was pneumonia and maybe we could try antibiotics. 
V asked if she could watch a show, and I said on days like this you have to do what you have to do to get through the day. So she went upstairs with her iPad and I sat at the island and said the 23rd Psalm and the Lord's Prayer again and a lot of other prayers.
This is the text thread I got from Stephen:
"No temperature. Xrays more clear tumor. Probably multiple. Other doctors looked too. Lots of air in her stomach making her uncomfortable."
"Ok. So in their estimation, is she suffering? She seemed really unhappy yesterday, but a little better this morning. What would cause air in her stomach?"
"So going to put her down. Antibiotics would probably make her feel worse."
"Ok"
"Panting a lot swallows air."
"Ok. Tell her how much I love her."
"I will. She didn't even put up a fight when they took her temp and normally she does."
"Ok. It's time I guess."
"Yeah. We could wait a few days but it'd just get worse. Glad she could go to bathroom today. May not have that luxury again. Rather do it before she's just a mess."
"I agree. I understand. I don't want her to suffer. I'm making this decision with you."
Stephen called a little later to say he was waiting with her. They had given her a sedative to make it easier, and they were waiting. He called to let me know. I got to speak to her and he said she responded to my voice. How do you say goodbye? I told her that I loved her and that she was my brave girl.
Stephen texted me the above and I responded, "Thank you for being with her and for letting me know."
I feel so guilty that I could not be with her and that Stephen had to wear a mask. But they say dogs identify people more by smell anyway. I also feel so grateful that he was allowed to go in and be with her and she didn't have to die among strangers.
My heart is broken. I love her so much. Lina was the dog of my heart. We shall not see her like again, as they say. I don't know how to resume life right now. I have my 36-week OB appointment today, and perhaps that is the best way. Just to keep moving forward until you get somewhere.
With dog books, the dog always dies at the end. But real life isn't like that. The dog dies right in the middle of everything.
August 4, 2020
I am so incredibly sad. Sometimes I think I will get through it and other times I think I won't. Everything was fine/normal at my OB appointment yesterday. I am just broken by Lina's death. I've been stumbling through, doing the things that still have to get done. This year has been so hard. I'm scared nothing can go right, which makes me really worried about going into the hospital and giving birth.
Today I managed to exercise (very slowly) on my elliptical and get my hospital bags mostly packed. Stephen just needs to pack his stuff, and I have a few things to add once I get them washed. It's funny how with V I made sure I had everything I could possibly need, and now with the prospect of going into the hospital during a pandemic, I'm just like, "Hmm—what do I not mind burning?" I'm going full Velveteen Rabbit on this. Also, since they've cut recovery times in half, I shouldn't need as much. I'm hoping to be in and out. 
I'm in a lot of pain from the pregnancy. G is pressing on my cervix, bladder, and anything else that's down there. I have a lot of lightning crotch pain. That is for real what it's called. And then I also have a lot of pain from him pressing out on various parts of my abdomen. Despite the pain, I hope I have a couple of weeks before he's born. I need a chance to recover from the emotional impact of losing Lina. The pain is terrible, but how much worse it would have been if I'd never known that sweet dog of my heart.
August 5, 2020
I mostly rested today. My ankles are really swollen and they ache and tingle. That didn't happen with V. Maybe it's because I'm old, maybe it's because it's a hotter summer, maybe it's because he's a boy. I don't know. I had a really rough night of pain last night, especially while Stephen and I were watching Top Chef. I was having to shift position and screaming and various things. There's so much I need to do but I can't do it because of the false labor pains I get whenever I move a lot.
I feel like the house is a wreck. V has been doing nothing but drawing (not really but it seems like it) all summer, and our house is awash in papers we can't throw away. It's driving me crazy. We can't just keep reams of paper everywhere.
I'm feeling like I'm in a really bad place again about having this baby. We've established that V will do school at home, but I have no other details, and I'm still afraid of dropping the ball on her starting school because I'm either literally-in-labor/recovering/constantly-breastfeeding-a-newborn. And I just feel so sad about losing Lina. I'd give anything to have her back. I feel like I traded my dog for a baby and I'm mad about it. I only cried for like an hour today, though, so maybe things are getting better in that department. Nothing like being dehydrated by tears.
The same company that did our porch is putting together V's swingset now. Hoping they'll be done tomorrow and I can get her out on it on Friday so she can finally begin to get some real energy out—and do something besides drawing!!! I'm glad she likes it, but it's just too much for me—so much paper everywhere all the time!!!
I feel like such a bad mom. My dog died. My daughter hasn't seen another kid her age since March. I felt like we had to stay super-locked down because of the risk of getting COVID while pregnant. Maybe I'll feel better about taking a walk when G is born. I'm really worried about bonding with him after this awful pregnancy. Depression/Suicidal Ideation[Pregnancy Crisis]PandemicDealing with [SIL]'s stupid trip and all the implications of thatMY DOG DIED. This whole year has been like a bad country song. I swear if Trump is reelected, I'm going to think Lina wasn't wrong about peacing out of 2020. 
I am in no good place to have a child right now. I just need a couple of weeks. Maybe even a week. I know I sound awful. I know I'm in better shape that most people. I feel like I'm drowning in grief and pain, and I don't see how G could possibly be okay. I'm so afraid there's something terribly wrong with him and then I'm going to have to deal with that without my dog's support.
On the bright side, I finished the Colonial cross-stitch I started for V back in March and started G's. Wonder if I'll ever finish that one.
Stupid everything.
August 7, 2020
I haven't cried yet today, mostly because I've forced myself to completely not think about Lina, which in itself feels like a betrayal. The swingset was finished yesterday, so V spent about 5 hours on it today, between rain showers. She's becoming impossible at bedtime, like she really just resents that it exists. I know because she's told me. She's also pitching constant fits, constantly complaining, and whining. I know it's partly because of all the stuff going on, not to mention Lina dying so suddenly, but it's really hard to deal with. I don't mind the crying so much but the POUTING. It's unbearable. And the smart mouth. 
Good lord, I have spent almost every waking moment with that child all summer, especially over the last month when Nana and Papa were out of town. It cannot be that I haven't done enough. I'm not working, and I've given up the work I did do for the duration of the pandemic. It's still not enough. Nothing is ever enough. Pandemics are hard! There are no perfect solutions. I adore that child, and I feel like I'm at the end of my rope.

August 10, 2020
Yesterday afternoon, I had an Usborne book shower on Zoom. It was such a nice thing to look forward to and think about during the incredibly hard week of losing Lina. My Faithful Readers book club at church hosted it for me. The book shower idea was actually mine. I have most of the books people usually give for baby book showers, and there were a lot of Usborne books I wanted, so I was able to set up a wish list, which was nice. And then I earned around $230 in free books, so I got most of the free ones for V, since people were buying for G. We're saving most of them for various gifts throughout the year(s). As Dolly Parton has it, it's going to be a hard candy Christmas, with the money we've spent on the porch, the swingset, vet bills, and what we will spend on the delivery. Luckily we have a lot of things for both children. It's not like we couldn't buy them more, but we'd like to rebuild our savings and we have the stuff so we might as well use it. We're drowning in toys, books, art supplies, etc. as it is. And who knows what the eventual economic impact of the pandemic will be, so it's good to be cautious.
As much as I dread baby showers and the like, it does feel good that people wanted to come and do something for me. Zoom definitely worked for this pregnancy in more ways than one, though. I've been in such physical pain for about a week that going to a live baby shower would have been hard. It was also really nice that so many people were able to join us from so many places, from my mom in South Carolina to my friend from her family's cottage in Rhode Island. We played some fun little games about Stephen and Courtney trivia and nursery rhymes and looked at books. V attended with me and had fun at her first shower.
Today I had my OB appointment. The midwife confirmed that the emotional shock of losing Lina so suddenly could have started contractions. I've had nothing measurable yet, but I'm contracting all the time when I'm not lying down. I've also had a lot of really bad menstrual cramp-like pain, which the midwife said is my cervix effacing. She checked me today since I've been having so many symptoms of false labor. I am 80% effaced and my cervix is very soft, but there's no dilation yet. Today I'm technically 37 weeks and 4 days, but I know I ovulated early and they've thought I was a little ahead the whole time. I could actually be at 38 weeks and 4 days. She said they'd either see me next week or at the hospital. He is sitting very low and is head down with his back on my right side. She said he would probably flip to face my back fully much closer to or during labor. 
I'm trying to really listen to my body. During my pregnancy with V, I felt like I had something to prove. I always said if I ever did it again, I wouldn't feel that way. Now I am trying to eat when/what my body tells me to and rest or move when it tells me to. I'm trying to sleep in the afternoon when I can since sleeping at night is very hard what with needing to go to the bathroom all the time, having to sleep on one side or the other and feeling like my hips are getting bruised, and so on and so forth. I'm torn because I want to treasure this time of my last pregnancy, but I will also be so relieved when the delivery and hospital stay are over. I feel like I have to be on high alert, which is hard. And I'm so scared it won't go well because this whole pregnancy has been so nuts.
August 13, 2020
Man, being in prolonged labor is hard. I have to remind myself and everyone else that I'm actually in early labor right now, even though it doesn't seem like it to them or sometimes even to me. I finished the documentation on V's Baby Project yesterday. She was at Nana's for the afternoon, so I was able to get a lot of things done. Then she came home only to freak out that she hadn't seen me all day, even though she was here until lunchtime and got to have Papa's grilled cheese for lunch and McDonald's for dinner. They forgot her toy in her Happy Meal, God help us all. We had a conversation about how she needed to give the fast food workers some grace because we're all having a hard time right now and doing more with less.
I had a little coronavirus scare today. Not really, but remember my MAGA neighbors who don't think it's real? And their teenagers are always everywhere with a bunch of other teenagers? Well, today while the we were on the back porch, the mom brought over my Lands' End package that had been left at her house by mistake. I had to take it from her over the fence and neither of us had on a mask, and it freaked me out.
I ended up putting my clothes in the wash—luckily I was going to wash today anyway, and taking a shower. I'm glad now that I did take a shower because it helped my back some and now I don't have to do it at night. V basically cried about everything from about 4:00 on because we made her stop watching her show and come out of quiet time. She was very helpful otherwise today, though. Just kept saying she'd had a terrible day, even though she had a great time up until then. I know it's hard. We're all stressed what with school and baby and Lina and the continued uncertainty of coronavirus and the fact that Trump is probably trying to control the election by killing the post office.
Speaking of the post office, I did get about half my thank you notes from the shower done today, so I hope it hangs around long enough to get them delivered. I don't have any fancy stamps or return address labels, but oh well. People are going to throw them in the trash anyway. The cards are pretty, though. I enjoy writing on them. Here's hoping I can get them done tomorrow. I really want to get them done and out before G is born. It would make me feel so much better to be caught up and have everything ready before my parents get here on Saturday.
I had a lot of cramping after dinner, but I think it's because I took Miralax. The midwife did warn me it could cause cramping.
I know pregnant women are supposed to waddle, but I think I'm down to more of a hobble between the back pain and the cervical pressure. Hilarious ending thought for everyone asking me how the heat is treating me. Today I sat on the porch, in August, in the hottest part of the afternoon, drinking hot tea, at close to 9 months pregnant, and it didn't occur to me that that was a strange thing to do until later.
August 16, 2020
I went into labor—my water broke—at 3:00 a.m. on Friday morning. I felt it while I was lying in bed trying to go back to sleep after getting up for yet another bathroom trip. G was born at 3:25 p.m. on Friday, August 14, 2020 weighing 7 pounds, 8 ounces and measuring 19.5". My parents are here. Everything went great. Very sore now. More later.
August 31, 2020
G was really born at a very good time, even if he was a little early at 38 weeks and 1 day. After being in quarantine for two weeks, my parents drove up on August 15, the day we came home from the hospital. It was lucky that my dad got to stay an extra day from what he had planned and go home on August 18, so he got in a little G time. My mom stayed until August 29 and played with V constantly, which was immensely helpful. Sue drove her down to Shenandoah and Dad picked her up there. V basically bounced off the walls for two weeks. She is so excited to have G and was so excited to have Mimi and Papa visit. It drove me a little crazy.
The hospital experience was good, overall. I labored and delivered in a mask, so other people sure as hell can wear one to the grocery store. I don't know if it was required, but I know I did it out of care for myself, my children, my husband, and the healthcare workers. Overall, it was an easy delivery. The contractions obviously hurt, but I got an epidural at 4 cm around noon. The midwife was coming to check me at 3:00. Stephen and I both thought I would be at around 6 cm or something. We both kind of expected I would deliver around dinner time, so he went to get something to eat. When the midwife looked, she said, "Where is your husband? You're having this baby right now." I had to call him and he had to cancel his food order and rush back, but at least he made it. 
I did 4 sets of 3 pushes each, and the midwife said, "I see some blond hair," which surprised me a lot, and then he was out. I remember less about it than I would like to. Not sure why. Stephen said I just kept asking if he was okay. Then she said, "Well, this is normally the part where I would stitch you up, but you didn't tear." So I don't even have any stitches.
The worst part, I think, has been that I gave myself bursitis in my arm by pulling myself up in the bed after the epidural took hold and well into the night. My left leg went entirely numb until around 10:00 pm. Bursitis hurts a LOT. I had to go to my PCP and get a corticosteroid shot on Wednesday, August 26. I'm surviving on a low dose of ibuprofen each day and hoping it goes away soon. I killed two birds, though, and got my flu shot at the same time—so now both arms hurt, haha. The pediatrician said while there will be just as many flu shots available as ever, they expect more people to want them, so there may be a shortage. Just as well I got mine early.
I've been in touch with my behavioral therapist and my psychiatrist. I think the Zoloft helped me this time, and G has not been cranky for the first couple of weeks with "discontinuation syndrome," which is what they call withdrawal, so that's good. I haven't had anything worse than the regular old baby blues, I think. I've been sad that I'll never have a baby again, but like I said, pregnancy is best enjoyed in hindsight. 
I had been told for months that they wanted uncomplicated vaginal deliveries out of the hospital in 24 hours, so that's what I was prepared for. And then everyone acted like I was trying to bust out early, which was weird. I did want to get out though, because of hospital food as well as coronavirus.
So far, G has been a good baby. I'm tired, but functioning. I've taken regular naps and showers, thanks to my mom and Stephen. My body is not entirely back to normal yet, but my stomach is mostly flat, and I'm happy to keep the stretch marks around my belly button as a reminder of what my body did. There's no weird skin pouch, and G was not huge, for which I thank him. Except for sex and hair color, he and V could be identical twins.
Today we began a new era in life—virtual learning for V. Day 1 of Kindergarten. I think it went well for her. I'm happy to have Stephen here still thanks to paternity leave and "telework must continue where feasible." In some ways, the pandemic has been good for me. 
Of course, like all moms, I wonder if I made the right decisions.
September 9, 2020
Just checking in while I have a minute. Stephen is in a staff meeting on the porch and G is happy to be held while he does that so I can get a minute. 
Well—it was literally a minute. V's 20-minute break from virtual school started right after I sat down. I got her a snack and we talked about what she did at school and about her Twitchit cat project. I read her about half of the CATS book Mom got her from the Usborne shower. I'm glad she's actually reading those. I've got to choose and wrap her ten books for her birthday. Today she's 6 days away from being 6 years old. I think virtual kindergarten is actually going better than I ever could have predicted. I'm really impressed with her teacher, and Lower Dauphin as a whole. I'm glad we were able to keep her in the school district, and OMG AM I EVER GLAD WE'RE NOT HOMESCHOOLING.
Stephen and I are getting through this newborn time. They're sweet and cuddly, but man they're a lot. I am no longer sad that that was my last pregnancy/delivery/newborn. As I told Stephen, these things are best enjoyed in retrospect, after you know everything turned out okay. He's almost a month old, and I've been breastfeeding nonstop, though I don't pump and he gets a little formula too. He's really struggling with acid reflux, which means he's a very loud sleeper and whoever sleeps with him doesn't get much sleep. We're going to try going to bed right after V does so we can get as much sleep as possible. So much for our quarantine tradition of watching a show together each night in bed. "That was fun but now it's done," as Daniel Tiger would say.
I had him in my room from 5:00 on. I never really went back to sleep.
September 15, 2020
Well, here we are on V's 6th birthday! On Saturday, she had a "Fruit Party" on the porch with the four of us and Nana, Papa Al, and Great-Grandma (our "quaranteam"). Stephen made her the strawberry cake she always wants for her birthday, and they brought fruit salad. It's hard for me to have time to prepare healthy snacks, like fruit, and Grandma likes to help and Sue says cutting up fruit is something for her to do that she enjoys, so Stephen is going to buy a bunch of fruit and take it over for her to make me fruit salad regularly. It's win-win-win.
What's not win-win-win is how much traveling Sue and Al are planning to do over the next few months. They're going up to camp, which is fine, not a huge amount of risk in that. But then [SIL] is coming up in October, and despite our earlier issues and decision that she wouldn't see G, she wants to get a Covid test and see him anyway. Even Stephen thinks it's fine as long as she actually gets the test. I feel like I'm not going to win this one. I feel very anxious because it just feels like everyone's giving up and I also see articles about how people let their guard down for a second and get Covid.
It's very scary. I feel like I was doing well and then I had this breaking point last week where I just wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, and see other people. But so few things are worth the risk. But then, Stephen has to go to work anyway, and he'll be exposed to more people, and so on, so I just feel like what's the point and I know that's dangerous.
I've begun pumping some for G. The insurance company kept giving us the run-around on an electric pump, so I just bought a $30 manual one, and it works better and doesn't make me feel like a cow plugged into a milking machine and it's not such a huge deal to set up so I use it more. I had to start pumping because one nipple wouldn't heal—the wound kept breaking open every time he nursed. So I've been pumping on that breast and it's helping. I figure I will use it when he's gone to Nana's if I need to. I'm almost exclusively breastfeeding now. I had to figure it out myself because lactation consultants can be such bullies and I didn't want to have to go to the hospital anyway. It must be working because he's put on 3 lbs. since birth. He had his 1-month appointment yesterday and weighs 10 lbs. 8 oz.
I just don't know how best to protect my children in this crisis without driving all of us crazy.
September 22, 2020
It's the first day of fall! We've had chilly weather the past few days, which has been nice. I had such a perfect day on Saturday. V and I got up and cleaned up—she's becoming a really big help. We dusted and straightened up so Stephen could vacuum, and then we decorated for Fall. V spent the entire afternoon playing with her new Lego set. She's been so busy the past few days that she hasn't had a "show quiet time" [quiet time where she watches cartoons] since Friday, so that's a huge parenting win. I spent the afternoon nursing G and letting him take a really good nap on me while I read a fun book. Then we went for a walk. It was lovely.
Sunday we had G's drive-thru celebration at church. There were several stations around the parking lot where people met new staff members, donated food for the food pantry, chatted with Marie and got a devotional, greeted us, and finally got a cute birth announcement wrapped around a chocolate bar. I wasn't sure I was going to go, but I realized I really wanted to and I was just scared of leaving the house. I've noticed some agoraphobic tendencies lately, and I wanted to nip that in the bud. We got 450 pounds of food for the food pantry and over $500 in cash donations, also for the food pantry. G and V got a lot of nice presents, too, of course. V has done nothing but open gifts for a month. They just keep coming and when you combine it with her birthday. It's a lot. 
I had therapy yesterday morning. We talked about my Covid anxiety and how it's related to the trauma of the [pregnancy crisis] in March, which I'm still not over. I feel like G is his own rainbow baby. I'm constantly waiting for everything good to be snatched away from me, and Covid is a way that could happen, so I feel like I have to be vigilant about it.
These aren't the greatest journal entries, but they are what they are. I'm exhausted and constantly busy.
September 29, 2020
Today is the anniversary of the day Stephen and I first met, in 2001, 19 years ago. On November 19, our dating anniversary, we will have officially been together half our lives. 
Maybe G knew and that's why he gave us the gift of sleeping six hours straight last night! Now we know he can do it—there is light at the end of the newborn tunnel!
Things are going okay. I'm feeling super stressed out about the election, honestly, like everyone. I don't have much to say here bc I'm still super tired and busy. Overall, things are good—stress bc Stephen's sister [SIL] is sick and Sue is going to go down there to NC to take care of her for a while. Not Covid, luckily. Anyway, we went from my being concerned about [SIL] coming up and wanting to see G to being concerned about Sue going down and having to tell her that we're quarantining the kids away from her after she gets back—and then after they get back from Colorado, too—and after they have people in their house doing their floors. (Don't understand why hardwood floors can't wait until after the pandemic, but apparently they can't.) So they may not see much of the kids until December, and then if they go to Florida (of all places) after Christmas they won't see them until February.
V got to go to a church event for 4-6 year olds on Sunday. It was meant to be outside, but then it rained. They were still socially distant indoors and wore masks. I've also signed her up for Sunday School (with precautions) in October. I think letting her go to church things, where I know what's going on and have a little more control is a good solution for now. It lets her see people and get out of the house while being as safe as we can.
November 4, 2020
Deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths. Election Day was yesterday. Hoping and praying Trump will lose. We still don't know the results because of all the mail-in ballots, which are still being counted. I've told V it will be okay no matter what happens, but I think I'm just trying to make myself feel better. I just want a world where the POTUS is a reasonable human being. Is that so much to ask?
Can't believe I didn't journal at all in October, but it just shows how busy and tired I was with a new baby. G is mostly sleeping through the night now, so that's helpful. Eventually we should be able to get on a more normal schedule.
I don't have a ton of time to journal today, but I wanted to check in. Covid cases are rising, so we had an at-home Halloween, which turned out to be really great. I'll try to put some stuff in here later about it. I just feel like I'm crazy because the cases are rising, but a lot of people are acting like there's no pandemic at all and are just doing their thing and they seem to be fine. It's infuriating.  
Stephen is really stressed about work and when/how to have in-person stuff, especially Christmas Eve. It's stressing me out. Hoping we'll be able to get some relief from some quarter soon. My great hope for the election is that after it's over, we can stop politicizing the pandemic and maybe try to actually deal with it.
November 9, 2020
Well, we have a new president elect! And a vice-president elect! Biden-Harris 2020! I'm still afraid to trust it because Trump, of course, is trying to contest it. 
We let V stay up and watch the victory speeches on Saturday night. She was really excited for Biden to win and to have the first female VP. She told G, "You're really lucky. You only have to put up with Trump until January! I had to put up with him for four years!"
November 13, 2020
(I started writing this for my FB writer page, but I just don't have the time or energy to finish it right now. I feel like my brain has been put through a woodchipper between regular anxiety, pandemic anxiety, election anxiety, new motherhood, and so on and so forth. I'll keep it here for now.)
I had a hard day yesterday. I've been away from this page in any meaningful way for a few months, adjusting, with my family, to the presence of our new member, a baby boy who arrived in August. So I have done 2020 with pregnancy and breastfeeding hormones, which are no joke, but the midwife said I "threaded the needle" between surges of COVID-19 for the delivery, which was a blessing.
My hard day was brought on by frustration and sadness. The constant what-fresh-hell-is-this of the last four years have left me emotionally drained. I'm sure that's true for many of you. This current sadness is, I think, a reaction to that. I am sad for the people whose minds we have lost to QAnon, and by those who write long essays on why they will never forgive (Never? I want to ask), and by those on both sides who say that anyone who voted the other way is a traitor and deserves something as ambiguous as "consequences" or something as specific as a bullet in the head. (That's not how voting works, y'all.) I want to believe that people can change, that minds and hearts can be opened, and that if these things happen, then nations can heal.
I am, for better or worse, a patriot, which is an unpopular thing to be these days. On one side, you can be a nationalist leaning hard right into fascism, and on the other, you can say that none of it was ever good and we should burn it all down and start again. But I'm also a historical writer, and I know how badly both of those options have gone in the past, for just about everyone concerned. The saying goes, "My country, right or wrong," but people tend to leave off the end of the phrase, which says, "When right to keep it right, when wrong to put it right." If you know me, you know that if I love you, I will let you know in no uncertain terms where I think you're going wrong. I'm not saying that's perfect, but it's how I am. I have always believed in what the United States of America aspires to be at its best, while deploring what it has been at its worst.
The frustration has come from the pandemic fatigue I see setting in, the near-constant complaining, the insistence from some people of all ages that history itself move aside for them and go back to being "normal," whatever that was. I see people gathering indoors in large groups without masks, using the expression, "Faith over fear," to lend a false piety to what is only selfish irresponsibility. I would argue that faith over fear is not the binary we are dealing with here, and that this argument breaks down very quickly. People say self-righteously, "The Lord did not give us a spirit of fear," and I reply, "The Lord didn't give some of y'all a spirit of common sense." (See above for what I do when I love people. I love you and I want to ask, "Are y'all having a pandemic? Because the rest of us are having a pandemic.") I see people throwing hissy fits at the thought of not having Thanksgiving, Christmas, and other potential superspreader events just exactly as they have been in the past, even as the medical professionals I know literally battle death every day. I see a bunch of people who clearly felt life owed them a certain outcome and are mad that they aren't getting that.
The one thing I have that might be worth sharing is a sense of historical perspective. It's what has helped me, and I hope maybe it can help you. I see people on the internet saying, "Be kind to yourself," and that's all well and good, except that sometimes what that turns out to mean is, "Coddle yourself and think how much you have been wronged." And I am not saying that you shouldn't sometimes indulge in a good cry, but I think you should do it and then go wash your face and get on with things because things will still be there. I respond better to a good talking-to than I do to coddling. Coddling means people think I can't handle it. A good talking-to means they know I can. It is, in the end, more encouraging.
Historically speaking, if you've got a roof over your head and clothes on your back and food in your stomach all at the same time, you are doing better than most. That's even true in 2020 terms. Historically speaking, this pandemic is nowhere near as bad as some other pandemics we've had. Historically speaking, kids are being pulled out of school to sit in their houses, which in most cases are far nicer than the trenches of the Western Front or the jungles of Vietnam, to name two other places kids have been pulled out of school to sit. 
I gave myself this talking to back in the spring, when I realized I was going to have a baby in a pandemic and that my husband might not be allowed to be with me.
The story goes that John D. Rockefeller, when asked to what he owed the success of Standard Oil, replied, "To the fact that we never deceived ourselves." 
It is safest, in the end, to face what is. What is is a pandemic whose numbers are going the wrong way. What is is a lame duck president who has abandoned the country to that reality. That's become so apparent that it isn't even "political" anymore, it's just a fact. What is is the fact that everyone who knows says we are about to go through the worst of the pandemic.
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The bottom line is I'm scared and frustrated and sad and confused about what to do. What is safe and what isn't. I'm so tired.
November 20, 2020
I came in here to write a good long entry, but then V came in to tell me that she's been having too much screen time. I told her that's been a problem for all of us during the pandemic. What it comes down to is that some of the shows she really likes end up giving her nightmares and making it hard for her to focus her brain on anything else. I understand where she's coming from. I've felt like my brain has been through a woodchipper what with the pandemic and the election and lockdown and pregnancy and new motherhood (again) and so on and so forth. I've been on my phone too much during nursing sessions, and I know that doesn't help with the anxiety and the inability to focus. I read today that doing these things that numb your brain is an avoidance strategy. I know that's true for me. I'm trying to numb the anxiety. I need to be better at coping skills and I need to teach V to be better at coping skills too. We agreed that over Thanksgiving break, we're going to really work on getting her off of screen time and doing things as a family that don't involve screens. Maybe we can do our Jane Austen puzzle that I got for Mother's Day. I really want to do that. I got back on my cross-stitch project last night and that helped, I think. Nighttime is hard. Right when I need to go to bed, every type of anxiety hits me and makes it hard to breathe. The case numbers are not a curve, they're a straight line upward, and now we've got Thanksgiving, which is a perfect storm, and people are just refusing to follow protocols. New ones were introduced this past week, but of course no one will follow them. I'm feeling very scared.
November 22, 2020
I am ENRAGED at the people who will not follow basic protocols. What I've discovered is how incredibly weak and selfish most people appear to be. WHY CAN'T THEY JUST BUCKLE DOWN AND GET ON WITH THINGS? We could have been out of this months ago, or at least in a much better place, if people were willing to sacrifice IN THE SLIGHTEST WAY. But no, they just don't want to. I read this morning that the airlines expect 1 million travelers this holiday week. WTF, America? It's down from 2.5 million, BUT STILL. (Hey, researchers, if you're reading this, can I please go down in history for "WTF, America?" That pretty much describes the last four years—maybe all of American history? I want it on a mug and a t-shirt in the gift shop, attributed to me.)
I was getting to a better place, after V and I attended an online talk from the NWHM with Denise Kiernan about her new book, WE GATHER TOGETHER. V is way into learning about Sarah Hale right now, which is so fun. 
And then after that, one of my wacko evangelical cousins, who's been spouting this "God has not given us a spirit of fear," crap to excuse herself from you know, any sense of personal or civic responsibility, had THE NERVE, THE EVERLOVING AUDACITY to ask for prayers for a friend who's been put on a ventilator. I thought it wasn't real! I thought it was just the Democrats trying to make Trump look bad and steal the election. That's what you said last week, anyway. (I'm conflating a bunch of people, to be fair.)
I had to go tell Stephen—my spiritual adviser, ha—about my feelings about that. He's angry at all these "faith over fear" nutjobs, too. It's bad theology, but then, what does one expect? 
I think the people going about their business acting like it's not real deserve what they get. They ought to be the last ones to get ventilators and medical resources. If you've made no effort, and in fact damaged the fight against the virus, you shouldn't get to take valuable resources away from people who've been doing their best.
December 30, 2020
Wow, I see it has been a while since I journaled. I do think about it every day. I'll hit the highlights of the past month and a half.
We had Thanksgiving at home, just the four of us. We're pretty used to that. I think last year was the first year we'd had Thanksgiving with family in about a decade. We had the food we like, we watched the Macy's parade, and we relaxed. 
With the surge getting so bad, we're no longer in a "pandemic pod" with Sue, Al, and Grandma. Plus, Sue kept going places and doing things, so she kept having to re-quarantine, but you know, that's her choice. She always wore a mask, etc., but like, she went to a jewelry store to get Grandma's rings resized. Highly unnecessary. Then Stephen's aunt and uncle stopped here on their way to Williamsburg, VA to see Grandma, and Sue felt like she couldn't tell them they couldn't stop. Manners will kill us all, haha. Supposedly, they were just going to stay at their condo and ride bikes, and they even brought their own groceries, but still! Why can't people just not travel? How hard is it to NOT do something?
We ended up calling it on my parents coming up for Christmas (even though they were going to quarantine for 14 days) in early December. We had to hurry and wrap presents and ship them. Shipping is taking much longer on most things these days, but all our packages to and from the Carolinas arrived in time for Christmas. 
There was another shutdown in early December. The surge from Thanksgiving made December a bad month, pandemic wise. Stephen went through all the stress of "What about Christmas Eve?" People are such creatures of habit and honestly, I think people just can't imagine doing things differently. It's like they're on autopilot. 
In the end, live Christmas Eve services were canceled, THANK GOD. We had 2 prerecorded options (1 for children, 1 traditional) and one livestream at 7:00 p.m. Shockingly, we all survived it, even the people who can't imagine not singing the world's most mediocre carol by candlelight. We watched both the prerecorded options, and honestly, I found them very meaningful. 
It was GREAT to have Stephen home all day! We watched services and ate our traditional Christmas Eve snack without rushing around. Also, it ended up pouring rain all day, and combined with the melting snow from the storm the week before, it was a mess. Outdoor services would have been impossible. 
So far, this is honestly one of my favorite Christmases. (We celebrate all 12 days, which we started doing long ago because we can usually only see family after Christmas due to Stephen's work schedule.)
January 7, 2021
And now I'm back to finish up Christmas, which was one of the greatest Christmases of my entire life honestly.
December 25: Santa Claus and Family Presents at Home, Leftover CE Snack for dinner, Spinach Pasta with something red (can't remember what now) on top. FT with [SIL] and [FIL] for those presents.
December 26: Opened presents with Mom and Dad on FT. Stephen made a huge thing of risotto with beef short ribs, kale, and red peppers. Very festive and lasted us days.
December 27: Stephen off on the Sunday after Christmas. Opened presents with Peoria friends and my brother and his family on FT.
December 28: It was unseasonably warm, so we masked up and opened presents on the porch with Sue, Al, and Grandma. Our household groups sat on opposite ends of the porch, and we had already exchanged the gifts earlier by leaving them on each other's front porches.
December 29: Went to see Hershey Sweet Lights in the evening. The Full Cold Moon was up. 
December 30: We made Christmas cookies.
December 31: I saw an idea for celebrating with a different time zone if you have young children, so thanks to the magic of the internet, we celebrated with Edinburgh (7:00 p.m.) and watched their drone show. It was awesome. V said it was the coolest thing she'd ever seen. We had New Year's Eve snack.
January 1: New Year's Day. There was some kale in my risotto, so I guess I had greens.
January 2: V opened a few presents from Mimi and Papa that just arrived. Mail is slow.
January 3: Stephen was off again thanks to having pre-recorded his parts of the service due to the pandemic. We watched church and it was a lovely, Christmassy service. In our church, the three kings process in on Epiphany Sunday, and we had video of that.
January 4: Back to school and normal life, or what passes for normal right now.
January 5: We were going to have a 12th Night party and take down the Christmas decorations, but Stephen woke up with severe back pain, and it became a day to survive doing V's school and handling all G's needs while worrying about him. Not to mention EVERYONE woke up at 6:00 bc Stephen did and he couldn't move. The teledoc said not to worry about Covid or Kidney stones.
January 6: I ended up giving the kids their Epiphany presents (books) even though we missed our 12th Night Party. I guess we'll get the decorations down sometime. 
So that was Christmas. It was lovely. And then yesterday an armed mob attacked the U.S. Capitol and we set another record for Covid deaths. And today I found out that we have the new, more contagious variant in our county. 
January 10, 2021
It's been a hard week because Stephen hurt his back. One of our doctors at church actually met him at church last night to examine him. It seems he sprained/tore a muscle, probably. It keeps going in cycles as far as when he feels fine to when he's writhing on the floor in agony. Two days he was completely out of commission, and it's been off and on since then. It's Sunday night, and here's hoping for a better week. So ready to get the Christmas decorations down and to vacuum. Seriously, the house is such a wreck.
February 10, 2021
Well, I see it's been a month. Sorry. Sometimes it's hard to remember that I'm working on this. When I finally get time to write, I forget what I should write. Does that make sense? And I spend all that time figuring out what to do, clearing my head. It's not just the baby, the Zoom school, the husband working from home, the pandemic. It's all of those things. I think we should not expect so much of ourselves in a pandemic. Productivity is laughable under these conditions. Productivity is for machines, and I suppose, for late-stage capitalism. 
Stephen turned out to have a kidney stone, which made him miserable and grumpy for about a month. He's passed it now, thank the Lord. V is extremely clingy, which I understand. I hit a pandemic wall the other day. I'm so tired of everything. And I'm really angry about the vaccine shortage. I'm really angry at Trump. So many people are dead because of his selfishness and incompetence, many of whom voted for him. A lady who briefly worked with my mom when I was a kid and whose kids grew up with my brother and me, died last week. Her husband once called me a Demoncrat on Facebook. Real mature thing to do to someone you've known since she was a kid. Still. Very sad. They think she caught it at a grandchild's birthday party, so now her daughter can live with that for the rest of her life. So crazy how people are not able to do the hard things. 
I was angry, but now I just feel tired. I feel like cocooning in my house with my family until this is all over, but of course Sue wants to know when she can see the kids. After she quarantines for two weeks. [SIL]'s been up for a few weeks recovering from surgery, and they've gone all over—with masks and social distancing, but still. They went to the Aquarium in Baltimore. Baltimore! It's a three-hour drive.
Anyway, they're driving [SIL] home today—halfway to Charlotte, where a friend will pick her up.
Stephen was able to get vaccinated because he's clergy. He double-checked with the person giving the vaccine to make sure he wasn't jumping the line, and she said the main concern is shots in arms, so if he's there, he should get a shot. He got his first one on January 29, and he's due for the second on February 26. So all the adults in our "pod" will be vaccinated except me, and who knows when I'll be able to get a shot. I'm at the end of the line. Super nonessential. I know it's not meant to be a judgment on my worth, but it sure feels like it, especially when so many people my age are able to be vaccinated because they're more important than I am. Really over people sharing their vaccination status on social media. 
Speaking of social, Stephen and I have both gone through a major unfriending and unfollowing spree. I just need a little rest. I've unfriended people I don't actually know or who I do know but we were never friends. I think when social first came out, everyone was friending anyone they'd ever heard of. I wish I could get off it completely, but it would be so inconvenient. 
Let's see, what else happened in the last month? I turned 39. My pregnancy hair is all falling out all over the house and all over everything. It took us until my birthday on January 26 to get our Christmas decorations down. G is a lovely child, but he's teething and wants to be held all the time, which is hard because he's getting very heavy. We got a ring sling, which he seems to like, so I hope as we get more practice with it that will help. I'm coming out of the "new mom" fog, I think. Actually, it's been very lucky that having a baby and the pandemic overlapped because we weren't going to travel anyway for a while anyway, and a lot of things have been easier. We've gotten a lot more sleep since we don't have to get up and get V to school—and so has she. It's not all bad. But I want that vaccine. 
I still feel the house is a wreck, but it's better than it was. I ordered myself a new rubber rake to pull all the pet fur out of the carpet.
March 6, 2021
I GOT MY FIRST VACCINE!!!!!! Our neighbor, church member, and friend is in charge of the mass vaccination site at the old Power Train Gym in Hershey. She had asked Stephen a few days ago if there was anyone on the church staff who needed the vaccine and hadn't been able to get it yet because they can call people at the end of the day to come get the ones that are left over. He mentioned that I would love to get one too if they had the leftovers. She called at 9:30 this morning and told me to come in right away, so I did and I got it! It didn't hurt at all, just a little prick. I have to confess that I have never felt my own privilege as much in my life as I did this morning. I've read recently so many things about vaccine inequity, but the conclusion seems to be that if it's offered to you, you should get it because "shots in arms" and the fact that not getting it won't actually solve the problem because only systemic change will solve the problem. And to be very honest, I will not risk my children losing their mother if there is anything I can do to prevent that. And, I feel like I've done everything that was asked of me while a ton of people have been out and about when they don't have to be and moreover, I haven't complained. Maybe I'm doing mental gymnastics to convince myself I deserve it. The fact is this is all too big for me—I was offered the vaccine, and I took it in the good faith that if you're offered it, you should take it to get us to herd immunity faster. Have fun arguing two hundred years from now about whether or not I should have. I hope you figure it out because that's more than I can do.
I feel great—those side effects they're talking about of feeling relief and hope and joy and so on and so forth are all true! It's not that I'm going to change my lifestyle, but it's like a weight has been lifted. 
Weirdly, I saw a post from Governor Wolf today that said that it was one year ago today that the first COVID-19 case was recorded in Pennsylvania. What a long strange trip it's been!
My second dose of the Pfizer is scheduled for March 27! Stephen had his second dose of Moderna on February 26, so he's just about a month ahead of me. He had a fever, chills, and fatigue in the 24 hours following, but that's all. Sue, Al, and Grandma are all fully vaccinated now, so that's our quaranteam done. South Carolina is opening registration up to people 55 and older on Monday, March 8, so I'm hoping my parents will be able to get the vaccine soon, and then we'll be in good shape as a family. (My mom is turning 65 on March 26, and my dad just turned 64 in January.)
I asked about breastfeeding and the reality is (as I knew already, but you know, due diligence) that they don't know how it affects the baby. But it's unlikely there's any negative effect, and the risk of COVID is higher, and there's a chance it MAY give the baby some antibodies. I'm going to talk to my friend about whether G and I can join any studies to benefit people later on.
I got a sticker, and I am saving it for posterity!

March 27, 2021
Second vaccine went in my arm about an hour and a half ago. I'm so tired of reading so many think pieces on who "deserves" the vaccine and what constitutes cutting in line. I didn't cut in line. I took a dose so it wouldn't go in the trash. Medical ethicists say we shouldn't waste doses, but then equally it's like if you're not old, sick, and disadvantaged you should somehow feel guilty for getting one. I have an infant! The new studies have shown that breastfeeding infants are getting antibodies, so I feel like that's really important because he's at risk for severe illness as an infant and won't be able to get a vaccine for years. As Stephen pointed out, it's been really nuts in PA. Lots of other states are opening up the vaccine to everyone at the end of the month, and we're still in Phase 1A, so you should just take it when it's offered. Also, a bunch of older people are insisting on opening everything up because they got their vaccine, so screw everyone else appears to be their official position. If we could trust folks who were vaccinated to keep following protocols to keep others safe, I wouldn't be so annoyed at them. I intend to continue following all protocols because I HAVE UNVACCINATED CHILDREN. But all anyone cares about are the grandparents' FEELINGS about getting to see their grandchildren and I get the mental health stuff, I do, but also it would be nice to feel like someone actually cared about children.
April 17, 2021
I don't know where this month has gone. I am so busy all the time that I feel like I barely have time to breathe. V broke her arm falling off the play set on Easter Sunday (April 4). She's in a cast until April 26, so that's been fun. Actually, it's not as bad as I expected. I just have to help her with her shower since we can't get the cast wet. 
We got new neighbors who have a 7yo boy and a 5yo girl, and she was playing with them. She actually played with them (masked, outside) for hours and hours the weekend they moved in. They've gone back to NC to finish up school for 3 weeks, so that's broken her heart. 
V's been struggling a lot lately, just freaking out over everything. She slept in my bed for several nights around when she broke her arm. I've got her back in her own bed now, and Twitchit is being really helpful by sleeping with her—Twitchit enjoys it too. She's a cat, she wouldn't do it if she didn't like it. V's current fear is ticks. It's really important that we do "tick checks" after she's been playing outside given the high rates of Lyme in our area, but she's so scared she'll have a tick that she won't let us look and it's a struggle every night. Also, any time I try to have some alone time for even just a minute, she is on me. If Stephen takes G for a car nap, it's like she senses "Mommy's alone" like she's a Great White and there's blood in the water. I'm so mentally exhausted, and I can't tell the difference between her wants and her needs, so I give everyone more of me than I can spare, including her. I'm doing my best to get her through this. 
And I'm so confused right now because case numbers are going up, but all the restrictions are going out the window and people (especially the vaccinated) are being so much less cautious. It's hard to know what the right thing to do is.
Also, G is going through the 8-month sleep regression, and teething, and having separation anxiety. And Twitchit is shedding everywhere. And I have allergies. And my parents are coming for 9 days with the dogs in early May for G's baptism (we hope). Insane times here. I'm wiped out.
April 28, 2021
I just made myself a document called "Organizing My Crazy Life." It has categories for personal, volunteer, and professional commitments and tasks that need doing. And wow, I do a lot. And it's all valuable, though very little of it is paid.
I just started a fellowship with Moms Rising focused around COVID relief. It's called the Pennsylvania Parent Power-Up Fellowship. I'm really glad to have this opportunity because I often want to be more involved in activism, but I don't even know where to start. I want to use my writing to help make the world a better place, which sounds idealistic, and I guess it is.
Speaking of making the world a better place, one of the things I'm working on is trying to be more eco-friendly. Compared to the way things are in the UK, it's not easy to recycle and use less here. The more eco-friendly products are really expensive, and recycling is hard. It's overwhelming. I'm trying to take it one task at a time. Right now I am focused on reducing our consumption and keeping up with what can be recycled in our local single-stream program. It changes often based on agreements, so it's a job to keep up with it. I'm reminding everyone about what can be recycled and also telling people to "shop the house" when they feel like they need something. Very often we can find what we need right here. Not always, of course. I'm also trying to make my dollars count when I do buy things by shopping with eco-friendly companies and so on. I was really turned off by Honest Baby labeling their solid color onesies for "boys" and "girls." I love Primary's tagline, "Every color for every kid." So I'm trying to shop with companies where my money makes a difference in some way. It's imperfect, of course. Sometimes it's just too expensive to justify, but I do what I can. I know someone's paying somewhere, and if things weren't so cheap, I have to think people would consume less.
In other news, earlier this week the CDC said vaccinated people don't need to wear masks outside unless they're in a crowd. But of course, all the headlines just say "vaccinated people don't need to wear masks outside," and no one ever reads the whole article. So this'll be fun. 
Anyhow, I'm not taking G for sure to church until he can be masked or vaccinated. I'm definitely not leaving him in the nursery with a bunch of random people whose vaccination status/safety practices I don't know. 
And people will say, "Oh, children don't get it." To which I will reply, "Fine, you risk your baby's life."
May 8, 2021
We've had a lovely week. G was baptized on Sunday, May 2, at the outdoor font at church. It was about 75 degrees, sunny. So glad we didn't wait until this Sunday, which is going to be rainy and cold. I had really wanted the baptism to be outdoors, so I'm glad we couldn't do it at Christmas. Mom and Dad and Sue and Al and Grandma and Uncle Dave and Aunt Sharon were there. Uncle Dave and Aunt Sharon and Aunt Jenn and Uncle Jim had all been down on May 1 helping Grandma get moved back in to Country Meadows now that it seems safe(r). Not sure what that means for exposure to the kids. 
Mom and Dad drove up on May 1, along with the dogs, Dax and Fiona. It's all gone really well, so much better than expected. I was afraid G would wake and the dogs would bark and it would all be terrible, but it hasn't been. The dogs really are quite calm now, and we've all been able to coexist for a week without a single incident of getting on each other's nerves. Glad we were able to get in a visit. It's been since August. They're going home tomorrow, and I will really miss them. We all will, especially V. She's so sad to think of Dax leaving, especially.
Today, Mom and Dad hung my degrees and awards and stuff in my office. It's only been nearly four years since we moved in this house. At least they're up now. It looks nice. I can remember that I had potential once. Millennials were set up. They've made fun of us our whole lives just for existing, overhyped personal responsibility and careers, overcharged us for college, and then wouldn't give us jobs with benefits. I guess I'm just feeling kind of down, sorry. I know I'm one of the lucky ones.
I've been thinking about my own mortality a lot lately. I think it has to do with coming up on my 40th birthday and getting our wills redone, and oh, maybe tons of people dying in a global pandemic.
May 14, 2021
[Lots of cursing at the CDC redacted.] This is the dumbest thing they've done this whole time. I'm not going to spell it out as I assume history will record what the CDC did on May 13, 2021. Ruined my family's plans for the summer and for re-entry into society. Children are people. They count too.
V said this morning, "It seems like the older people aren't doing a very good job of protecting the younger people." Heartbreaking.
May 19, 2021
The CDC really just crept up to families' front doors, lit a bag of steaming dog poop on fire, rang the bell and ran away. (And definitely, definitely, put that on a t-shirt in the gift shop). [My thoughts on Walensky redacted. They were, shall we say, disapproving.] I've never been this ready to riot in my whole life.
May 28, 2021
For about the past month, I've been doing a fellowship through the activist group Moms Rising that's focused on Covid relief (early learning, paid leave, path to citizenship for immigrant workers). I'm so excited to be involved in a way that is more than just giving money and signing petitions. We need a better system. In a lot of ways, it's too late for me to benefit from a lot of that in terms of childcare, but it might make a fairer world for my children. That's the thing I've realized about activism. It's okay if you're doing it for yourself. That's fine. But a lot times you're not going to make it to the promised land, and you have to be content with that glimpse you get from the desert, knowing you made it better for others. (That's a really bad and I'm sure problematic metaphor, but I'm gonna roll with it.) I do feel so much better about myself knowing I'm doing something, though.
June 26, 2021
It's so hard to remember to journal. When I do get a few minutes to myself, it's not a priority. I'm trying to accept that we have a young child and a baby, and it's not reasonable to expect the house to be clean and clutter free all the time. My problem is that I thrive in an organized environment, so having crap everywhere is mentally exhausting for me. V told me that I make it look really fun to be a mom, so I guess I hide it well? 
So far, summer is going better than I thought it would. On June 18, we had our first day since March 23, 2020 with ZERO new COVID-19 cases reported in Dauphin County. Our numbers are way down, but this Delta Variant is freaking me out since the children still can't be vaccinated. People continue to act like this isn't a problem for kids, but we know that Delta is going after the unvaccinated and scientists and historians know, even if no one else does, that it takes ONE LITTLE TWEAK on that virus for it to go after kids. I just keep thinking about 1361-62. 
We've had a good, busy month. I got to be part of a small group of about 10 Moms Rising members to have a meeting with Senator Casey on June 1. That was very exciting. We talked about President Biden's American Families Plan. I don't know how Republicans expect parents to be able to work when childcare is so inaccessible.
June 7-11 we went to Williamsburg, VA, for the first time since March 2020. We had gone there to get away back at the beginning of March 2020, when we had the whole crisis period of G's pregnancy to deal with. I guess it's appropriate that it was the last place we went before the pandemic hit and the first place we attempted to go as things opened back up. It was really, really hot, and we'd planned to only do outside things. We got the yearly passes to Colonial Williamsburg and went there in the mornings, doing only outside things and wearing masks when we were around other people. It was kind of neat because we ended up being able to do a lot of things we'd never done before, despite having been there so many times. We especially enjoyed the boxwood maze that is way in the back of the Governor's Palace. 
We did CW in the mornings and came back to the condo to eat lunch and rest and cool off. Two afternoons, Stephen and V went swimming at the condo pool. (There were thunderstorms on Wednesday.) G and I went briefly one day, but he got sleepy. I didn't really care as I'm not a huge pool person. I enjoyed reading while he napped. One night we walked on the Yorktown waterfront and put our feet in the York River and saw the Yorktown monument, which we'd somehow never seen before. (We've been visiting the Historic Triangle fairly regularly since 2003).
All in all, it was a great first attempt at a family vacation in a COVID/2-Kid World. G did well—he's a good traveler, which is important in this family. He's pretty happy as long as he's in his stroller, even in the heat. He likes to be outside—he was only unhappy when we were in the condo.
The next week, June 14-18, V did Zoo Camp at ZooAmerica in Hershey from 9:00-12:00 every morning. She loved it and wants to go every year. The kids and counselors were all masked and it was mostly outside. We also got lucky that it was much cooler that week. She's continuing to do Girl Scout Daisies and has zoom events on Wednesdays and Fridays pretty much every week. I got a call yesterday about hopefully getting her into a real troop in the fall.
We finally figured out how to join the pool in our neighborhood. (Our development has single-family homes, which we live in, townhomes, condos, and apartments, and it's been really unclear who can join.) Anyway, now we have a pool to go to, so that's nice, and I hope it helps with V's swimming skills. She still hates putting her head under the water. Hoping that now that we have regular access to a pool, G will get accustomed to the water a little earlier and easier.
V also started play therapy at a local therapist this week. It's just been a hard year, and she needs more mental health support than I'm qualified to give. I'm thankful she is able to get it and that insurance mostly covers it. She was on a waiting list for about a year, so we're lucky it wasn't urgent.
In my therapy, I'm working on setting boundaries with my children. It's so hard because I want to be able to do that, but also, I've had to be everything for the past year and a half. But anyway, I've realized I'm not enough for my children. I can't be enough for them and they can't be enough for me. We need other relationships, other pursuits, to be whole. I'm training V to respect my boundaries, as I respect hers. And someday I will do the same with G.
He said his first word this week: Mama. Hugely gratifying.
Yesterday marked a great milestone. G and V both went to Nana's for an hour and a half, and Stephen and I were alone for the first time since G was born. We just breathed—no energy for more. What a gift breath is.
He's taken the children to Fort Hunter State Park with Nana and Papa Al this morning. I should have about 2 ½ hours to myself. I've been writing this and drinking tea, and now I'm going to get dressed, skip make-up and hair, and start laundry. Hoping after that I'll have some time to organize my office and get back to writing in a consistent way.
July 6, 2021
Going to be a hot one today: 96 degrees. I'm on the porch with the fan on at 10:00 am, and it's quite pleasant. This porch has truly changed my life. It's lovely to be able to get so much fresh air without also getting sunburned and eaten alive by bugs. V and G and Stephen are all at church having a small playdate. It's good for G to at least see another baby, and V really wanted to go, too. 
We had a really lovely 4th of July again this year. Last week, V painted some wooden "firecrackers" (just decorative wooden blocks) red, white, and blue for me, and we let G fingerpaint by putting paint on paper in a Ziploc bag. 
We were alone again this year as Sue and Al and Grandma are up at camp. It was a Sunday so Stephen and V went to church in the morning and then we had watermelon for lunch. The watermelon wasn't great, but V liked it. G tried some but was unimpressed. I'm trying really hard to get him on more solid food. He'll try anything, but it often takes him a while to come around to a new taste. 
The kids who moved in next door in March came over to play for a while in the afternoon—they're allowed to play together outside without masks as all the grown-ups are vaccinated. Our pediatrician says that's what she recommends and what she does with her kids. It was a beautiful day for it—only 82.
For dinner this year, we did hamburgers and oven fries and cake. Stephen bought strawberries, but they're so out of season now that they were awful and tasted sour. 
I've told Mom I want to make a peach cobbler next week when she's up. I haven't had peach cobbler in July in years.
V got to have her first real fireworks experience this year. The kids next door had bought some to set off in their driveway, so she and Stephen went over around 9:30 to set them off. V eventually did a sparkler. I'm glad she was able to do it with friends, because I'm sure I never could have convinced her to try a sparkler. She was terrified to try it, but then she had fun—sometimes peer pressure is a good thing. I was going to watch from the porch, but G did not like the noise, so we went inside. It was pretty intense this year. It sounded like we were being bombarded for a full hour. 
Pandexit summer is hard for those of us who have children under 12 who aren't yet eligible to be vaccinated. People are acting like it's over when it isn't, as they've been doing this whole time. Stephen is stressed bc vaccinated people don't want to wear masks in church, and maybe they shouldn't have to, but still—how do we know who's lying? We still don't know what the school protocols will be. I can't wait for there to be some predictability to life again. However, this has taught me about living in the "now."
August 31, 2021
I see it's been a while since my last entry. Things have been nuts everywhere. The aftermath of Afghanistan is happening. Hurricane Ida is happening (we're supposed to get downpours tomorrow and Thursday from the dregs of it.) The delta variant is happening. You can go look all that up. I don't have time to record details and I'd probably get them wrong anyway.
Here's where we are today. V is attending a private school 25 minutes away, because they were the only school we could find that she's eligible to attend that has a health and safety plan following CDC and AAP guidelines. It's actually a school built initially for more economically disadvantaged children that our church has helped to grow, support, and literally build. Tuition is on a sliding scale, so that it is more accessible to more people. This is the second day of school.
The local districts have hemmed and hawed all summer, not wanting to make a commitment to a health and safety plan and not wanting to anger the anti-maskers. Who are usually also the anti-vaxxers. Who are the people making it hard for us to get out of the pandemic. I have zero patience left for them and their uninformed understanding of "freedom." My brother is one of them. Ugh. Hope he doesn't die of Covid because he won't get vaccinated. Sounds harsh, maybe, but he's so deep into conspiracy theories and Trumpism that it's like he's truly lost his mind. It's really sad.
Anyway, our district (finally—a week before school started!) decided on a hybrid mask option where some people (elementary and middle schoolers) have to wear masks and some don't (including faculty and staff), regardless of vaccination status because they're not going to check. It's based on "vaccine eligibility." I want to support the public schools, but man are they making it hard. It's like they've all just given up. Maybe they have. Maybe the only choice we have thanks to the anti-public health folks is to let the virus run rampant.
My friend's husband went to the last meeting, and he said there was a dude with a shirt that said, "Lions not sheep." Which is embarrassing for him and his whole family. Seems like Lord Farquad's compensating. Who does that and thinks they look like a badass? 
Unfortunately, delta is a real pandemic, unlike the soft-serve pandemic we had before. 
V's school has temp checks and verbal certifications from parents every morning, universal masking, a plan for outbreaks, and fully vaccinated faculty and staff. So someone (usually Stephen or Sue) is in the car for two hours every day getting her to and from school, and we're paying gas and tuition for the privilege. But it's fine. I can't send her into the fire of raging delta without masks, and I can't risk her bringing it home to G, either. Children's ICU beds are filling up. Delta does affect children. It's always been a convenient lie that Covid doesn't.
G and I are home together from 7:45-3:30 weekdays now. Nana is taking him from 9:00-1:00 two mornings a week. There's no one-year-old class at our preschool because of delta and because there's no one to teach it. I wouldn't let him go right now anyway. Not in the middle of a raging pandemic surge. We're hoping they'll be able to start the one-year-old class in January, but it's hard to say. I'm not counting on it.
One good thing is that over the past two days (ha!) we've been able to establish a sort of schedule/routine, which is very helpful. That's been the hard thing about all the pandemic changes. The loss of routine was rough. I can't entirely blame the pandemic, of course, as some of it is the baby, too. But we've reached the magical first birthday, so I hope things will calm down on that front soon, too.
October 1, 2021
Chilly day today. I have goosebumps sitting here at my computer in the afternoon. I'm wearing ¾ sleeves and I should have worn long sleeves. I might go change. I'm so tired, too. I haven't been sleeping well at all. I just can't seem to settle down at night without a sleeping pill. I stay up until around midnight and then I have to be up between 6:30 and 7:00. Doing that over and over will get you eventually. 
I've also had no time to write this month, which has been hard. On September 1, our basement flooded about two inches with the rain from Ida. So we spent September 2 and the rest of that weekend cleaning things out. It was a hassle but not a tragedy—we didn't lose anything too terribly important that couldn't be replaced, though now I am thinking about it, I am feeling a little upset about a couple of my mom's paintings that we lost. Ah, well. We had to rent a dumpster, and the good news is that the basement is cleaned out now. V was out of school for two days due to the flooding, along with most of the county. So the first week of school, they only went 2 ½ days because that Friday was a ½ day. They're making it up on October 11 and March 18 through Seesaw, which is the online learning portal.
I just got up and changed my shirt and got the space heater for my office to knock the chill off. I feel much more functioning, though still very sleepy. I wish I could take a nap this afternoon. I could, but it would waste my only working time.
V had her family birthday party on the porch on Labor Day. She also had a woodland theme, and by her choice, we reused G's decorations. (We wrote "year older!" in Sharpie after the 1/One.)
Sue and Al went on a trip out west to Wyoming and South Dakota. They visited several national parks. They were supposed to go last September, but obviously that didn't happen. They left on September 7 and returned on September 20. Then they got negative rapid tests but with having to wait 3-5 days after traveling for a PCR test and then the fact that it took the test UNTIL TODAY to come back, which would be the end of 10-day quarantine period anyway, they haven't been able to help with the (still unvaccinated) kids. And now Sue is leaving again on Sunday to go to SC and NC to see [SIL]. They were supposed to also see Al's son and his wife and son, but they decided not to fly with an unvaccinated toddler into a "hot mess" in step-SIL's words, like the Carolinas. (She's from Charleston, so like us, she can say that.)
I said that it would be okay to see the kids next time if they just got a rapid test with no symptoms, but Stephen says you can't even get that now. All the kids are having to test constantly to stay in or return to school once they're exposed, so there aren't any available.
And yet most people have stopped wearing masks or taking precautions or limiting their families' activities. I'm left wondering if I'm the crazy one, even though I try to follow Dear Pandemic, and NPR, and nationally recognized doctors' advice.
October 8, 2021
V told me this morning that the SweetFrog Yogurt shop by the Giant (grocery store) closed. "They didn't get enough people in the pandemic." I don't know why that upsets me so much. Tons of businesses have closed. All those dreams, livelihoods lost. It's a tragedy. But it's no secret that American work culture has been toxic for a long time. I have hope that maybe this will change the way we live for the better. That's the thing about global crises. They're awful, but then afterward, things are often better. For the survivors. We were going down a long, unsustainable slide. We can't do this anymore.
I backed out of a volunteer commitment this week. There was no time in my days. I'm already sleeping about six hours a night, and right now my children need me. All the time. And that's okay. I'm okay. That's this season. People depend on me. I couldn't take time away from them to spend at my computer doing something that wasn't urgent. 
But it got me thinking about how we act here. Why are we like this? We think we're only successes if we're unlimited, if we say yes to everything, if we go go go. If we're 24/7. It's sick, the way people immediately started worshipping "productivity"—at the start of a pandemic. As if we weren't all living through something crazy, if not actually unprecedented. (Ugh, that word.) As if it wasn't a distinct possibility that we'd all be dead next year. It's not actually normal or healthy for families to leave each other in the morning and then see each other again at night—maybe, if they're lucky. Companies shouldn't have the kind of power over workers' lives that they do. Workers shouldn't willingly give it to them. But we're trained almost from the day we're born—and certainly by our school system, which starts talking about "college and career ready" in Kindergarten and ignores realities of child development in favor of what's convenient for adults—to become workers. We treat employment like a moral good (Thanks again, Victorians! But also Puritans! At best it's a moral neutral. But the haves have been trying to not pay the have nots for their labor with this trick of saying the work itself is the reward since at least the Middle Ages. Hi, Feudalists!)
Blame the Victorians, as usual. The factories, the Industrial Revolution, the need for productivity to turn out products. And we are one of the products now, what with social media. 
And all you hear now is—go back to work. I can't blame people for rethinking their lives, for prioritizing their lives in the middle of a deadly surge, for not wanting to sacrifice themselves to a company that has no loyalty to them and would drop them in a heartbeat. For wondering, if maybe the grown-ups were lying to us about our careers and ourselves being one and the same. (Also, there's still a childcare crisis. It's so expensive it doesn't actually pay a lot of people to work. More than in-state college tuition in many states.)
Because we know now that we were lied to about having it all. I mean, I saw through that one as a preschooler. I knew. 
I said, when I backed out of the volunteer commitment, that doing an okay job would be fine for this project. We're doing okay, I said. And in the midst of a global crisis, if you're doing okay, you're doing great. I guess that's the thesis here.
We have to stop this lie about success, about productivity, about our careers, about our net worth equaling our worth.  This is madness.
I saw an ad for a job the other day that said they were looking for a "full-time, onsite, freelancer." Because they want a full-time worker without having to pay any benefits or retirement or anything like that.
What fresh hell is this? There's a seat by the fire for whoever thought that one up, as my grandmother would have said.
It's become so common now to say, "It's okay to not be okay." And sure, it is. But I'd like us to say, "It's okay to just be okay." It's okay not to be the best. It's okay to just have hobbies for fun and not be obsessed with being amazing at them. It's okay to just put food on the table and keep a roof over your head and enjoy the basics of a good life because *historical perspective incoming* you're still doing better than most people. You are like, incredibly, just-won-the-lottery lucky.
It's okay to do the job that brings in the income you need—and not to go above and beyond for your employer who is not doing the same for you. It's okay to leave it at work. And you know what—we need to get employers used to that. 
It's okay to not leave everything on the field. Keep something for yourself.
Sometimes they call me an Elder Millennial. My early childhood was lived in a very, very different world. My entire childhood, in fact. But early on, I can remember price tag stickers on items at the grocery store. And because my grandparents were late adapters, I have unironically used a rotary phone.
I remember when if you wanted to order something, you had to plan ahead and allow "6-8 weeks" for shipping. We used to joke that it was "68 weeks." October isn't the new December, it's the old December. I have distinct memories of my grandmother doing her catalog Christmas shopping well before Halloween. I remember when stores weren't open all hours. Businesses closed. It's okay. It’s actually great. If you wanted something on a Sunday, you better get it between the hours of noon and 6:00 p.m. or you'd have to live without it until Monday, which you generally could. That world wasn't ideal by any stretch, but even if you weren't a churchgoing person, you got at least a half-day's rest every week, which probably kept you sane.
There's this rage bubbling under the surface of everyone I meet right now. It's dangerous, but more than that, it's exhausting. I know there are unintended consequences to everything, and I know I'm really lucky to be okay, even if I'm just okay. But here are some things I think actually wouldn't be so bad.
It wouldn't hurt most of us (and it would definitely help the planet) to live with less. We're used, as a society, to instant gratification. Not good for children, and even worse for grown-ups.
It wouldn't hurt most of us most of the time to have to think ahead about what we want to order and where we want to order it. It would probably save us some money. And some carbon footprint.
Social media has made us think that everyone's our friend, even the companies whose sole goal is to get our money. Or our data. It wouldn't hurt us to remember that.
It wouldn't hurt for stores and restaurants and businesses to keep shorter hours. Bet we'd all get some rest. Yes, support your local businesses. Support them with your money. But also—support them with your support. Don't expect them to be available to you all the time. Support them by honoring their hours, and waiting on them, and not going somewhere else just because they're closed unless it's necessary.
Make a world where people can spend time with their children. We treat children abominably in our society. We institutionalize them almost from birth, treat them like the main issue is just where to put them, and then wonder what's wrong with them. Of course they're depressed. Or maybe even just sad because being treated like a nuisance will make you sad.
It would require some adjustment. It would all require some adjustment.
And if we were better rested, I think we'd be less angry and more patient.
These are all problems of the system, and they become problems for individuals, and maybe, just maybe, this is our chance to change, but the change has to start inside. We have to cut out that lie that says the end goal of life is productivity.
Maybe we all need to stop trying to be amazing for a while and just be okay. 
We're all in different circumstances. There's no way I could tailor this to everyone's specific situation, so don't @ me with "well, but you didn't think about this" or "but I'm already perfect, everyone else is the problem" or "why didn't you address this issue that I'm obsessed with right now." This is not an amazing post. This is an okay post. Also, newsflash, people aren't perfect, people can't be perfect, and expecting people to be perfect at all times is stressing everyone out. Stop it. Let's just forgive each other when we mess up and genuinely are sorry and try not to do it again. Because life is hard enough, okay?
But if we all just did what we could toward an okay world for everyone, maybe we could get there. It would be hard. But we lived without instant gratification before. We lived without thinking success meant every one of our childhood dreams coming true and our careers being perfect before.
I really think it would be okay.
It might even be amazing.
October 14, 2021
I'm sitting here on the back porch on a 74 degree day in mid-October (and really there is nothing better than October sunshine) and just thinking about how lovely it all is. The roses are still blooming, and the mums, and the petunias are making one final show, and I've put out the pumpkins and the wind is rustling the neighbor's ornamental grasses. One of my petunias had gone dormant and I thought it was done, but then I noticed three new blooms on it last week, and V said, "Isn't it a miracle, Mama?" and I was going to say no it was nothing special, just the way of flowers, but then I agreed with her that it is because of course it is. The petunias have turned their faces to the sun. They're so active I think of course they must be sentient.
November 30, 2021
I got the most beautiful comment today in my Facebook pastor's wives support group:
Your beautiful heart shines through, Sister Courtney. Thank you for being a light, to the glory of God. I really mean that.
I had asked if there were any other progressives there, and (perhaps predictably), the conversation devolved. It's impossible for anyone to just answer a simple question on the internet.
December 3, 2021
I've been feeling so sad and overwhelmed lately. Yesterday was especially bad. My heart was racing. As I told Stephen, I've always tried to be good, always wanted to be good. But it's so hard sometimes to know what IS good, especially when the definition keeps changing and things that were good twenty years ago are now bad. I don't know.
I'm so sad about the state of our country. Why can't the government actually govern? What a horrific failure so much of the pandemic response has been. Not all of it, of course, but a lot of it. So much pain, chaos, poverty, death could have been avoided through good governance.
And now in the midst of all this, the Supreme Court will probably overturn Roe vs. Wade. Again, I'm just constantly getting emails about how I should "stand up." How? Whatever we do, however many of us march in the streets, it won't change the six conservative justices' minds. I'll probably be cancelled for even saying that. But I'm in a place now where I want practical solutions to our problems, not ideals that never come to fruition. I'm so tired of all the virtue signaling. And so overwhelmed by all the requests for my time and money.
I know I am privileged. I know how much I owe the world. But sometimes I feel like the constant requests for money from literally every organization I've ever had contact with and many that I haven't are just, again, overwhelming. For Giving Tuesday, I got emails before telling me I didn't have to wait to give, and emails after saying it wasn't too late to give. From multiple organizations. It was too much. I just shut down. My goal for next year is to figure out how to give better, how to take some action so I don't feel so frozen.
I did spend a lot of time in prayer over the last few days, and that helped. It surprised me, because often I'm not a very diligent or faithful pray-er. But I got the idea from Praying in Color to color as a way to focus my mind during prayer, and I got a new Advent devotional that is also an adult coloring book. It has helped a lot with the stress and overwhelm. The process of coloring helps me focus my mind and lower my heart rate, and I'm able to spend time listening to God as well as talking to fill the silence.
In the silence, I do hear God. And what I heard as I prayed about these feelings of sadness and overwhelm is this:
God knows the world is scary and still tells us not to fear. God will be with us, whatever happens. Nothing can separate us from the love of God, not even the Supreme Court or the fascists in our midst. Jesus came into a world ruled by the Roman Empire and was killed as a political dissident. He knows hard times. We think we're pretty tough, but we're no Roman Empire.
Regarding my overwhelm, I heard God tell me that I am only required to do what God has called me to do. I want to be a light, to the glory of God.
I know that I am called to help heal the world through my work with the written word. That's why I lead Faithful Readers and helped with the new church library, and why I spend so much time working with words. 
As an introvert with high anxiety, I don't think I'm much use marching in the streets. Someone would have to help me get through a panic attack. Yet so often I feel like that's the message: march in the streets or you're useless. And also a bad person.
It's hard for me to see myself through God's eyes and to do things for God's glory. I said to Stephen the other day, in response to one of my friends from Peoria getting multiple civic awards and a new job as tenure-track faculty (living my one-time dream, in other words, as I continue to struggle to build a career) that we're so trained to want to do things for our own glory, that we're trained to see our own glory as an actual moral good.
And another thing. I feel like the only way to be a "good" woman in America is to build a career. Caring for your children and home isn't enough, not even in a pandemic. Even feminists write like this. Get back in the workforce. It's the only way you can be a good person, a good role model, a good mother. That's late-stage capitalism talking, of course. But people fall for it. Even me. All the time. So crazy how survival isn't good enough these days. And our kids clearly aren't all right, and no, the entire burden of that shouldn't fall on women, but parenting does require tough choices and sacrifices, and (unpopular opinion) however nice a daycare is, it's still an institution, and maybe institutionalizing our children almost from birth isn't the best solution.
Not saying I know the answer. Just saying we have to be willing to look at our problems clearly. Children are getting shafted in this scenario.
Not saying individuals are responsible for systemic problems, either. Just saying maybe the people who are in charge of the systems should get with the program. That's for you, Congress.
But really, I wonder if we haven't tied ourselves a lovely Gordian knot. And maybe the pandemic has been the sword that cut it. But then the pieces fell apart and the thread is completely broken.
December 17, 2021
Pfizer will not request emergency use authorization for the vaccine for children 6 months-5 years until "sometime in the first half of 2022." And then it looks like it will take 13 weeks to full vaccination. G is trapped in the house and I am trapped with him. I feel like I'm going to lose my mind. I do such a good job of keeping up a brave face, but I am really having a hard time. I haven't spoken to a friend in months. There's just no time for anything. I'm not able to reach out. What am I supposed to do? I run from the moment I get up to the moment I go to bed caring for everyone. I have to and I want to. I love my family. All I need is for people to understand where those of us who still can't get family members vaccinated are coming from. But they don't. No one cares about anyone else. All anyone cares about is if they're getting free of the pandemic. They're willing to throw the toddlers to the wolves if it means they can go "back to normal." I can hardly get my in-laws to take it seriously. I mean they do, but they're definitely still going to do the things they want to do. Here's a thing I wrote after my first check-up in 3 years a few days ago. It's not done. Nothing ever is. It's a poem sort of. Like if you can relate.
Rant, December 2021
CHECK-UP (FIRST ONE IN NEARLY 3 YEARS)
Are you flossing?
Are you exercising?
Are you eating whole foods?
Did you hear the part where I said I have a toddler?
But I lie anyway, tell them what they want to hear because it's easier than having a conversation about how I really must find time to practice self-care.
Your stomach hurts because you're too thin. I can feel your organs.
Yes, that's it, I'm too thin, perhaps the only thing I've ever truly succeeded at, and I can't even take credit because it's genetics, and I'd better not mention how much l feel like I'll collapse any time, because my body's very existence makes other people feel bad about theirs like mine is so great, even though it hurts like butter spread over too much bread, and one day I'll disappear entirely, crumble into literal dust like my grandmother. It's time to schedule my DEXA scan.
That scoliosis curve in your spine—
My toddler weighs a quarter of what I do, and
I carry the ring, it's weight-bearing exercise at least.
And I'll take a refill on that Mother's Little Helper. I'll take all the help I can get.

GIVING TUESDAY, NOW ALSO IN MAY, DON'T FORGET, AS IF WE'D LET YOU!
You don't have to wait to give…
Countdown to giving…
It's time! Give! Give! Give!
There's still time to give!
…
Did you see our emails?
Multiply that by the number of organizations you have ever had the slightest contact with, the real charities and your alma mater, which regularly misuses its multimillion-dollar endowment, but wants your money too and grossly overestimates how helpful it was in your life. There's another dean with a meaningless Six Sigma Black Belt who needs a job somewhere, after all.
The cost of everything is going up, but give us your money. We'll use it to
Save the small businesses, the restaurants, the economy, democracy, reproductive rights…
(blink, blink, wide-eyed like a kitten)
Do you want these things to go away?
Right now, it takes more energy than I have to care. I gave nothing to any of you because I couldn't keep up with your emails.
WORK-LIFE BALANCE
Really, if you don't bring home a paycheck as big as your husband's, you're letting down your mother's generation, no matter how badly they screwed you over, they will tell you how much you owe them, and you do, but not as much as they think.
And you're letting down your daughter's generation. God forbid, what if she wants to be a mother, like you, oh but by the way, our birthrate is down, could you have more babies, please? No, we will not invest in schools, or childcare, or healthcare, or maternal mental health or the well-documented discrimination against mothers in the work force. Surely you understand the need of another bomb? (We've convinced half the electorate that Jesus loves bombs, and bombs are expensive and make a big boom, unlike paid leave. This is the greatest country in the world.)
I'm tempted to just leave my mother's generation and my daughter's to their own devices. They are strong and capable women, and independence is so important, isn't it? And did any of these journalists who think they know everything ever take the most basic course in feminist theory or historiography? Clearly not or they'd know that all they'd done was play right into the patriarchy's hands. But congrats on your big fancy career, anyway, since that's all we are now.
Anyway, my daughter came home the other day and told me that a boy at school said girls couldn't be fat only boys could be fat, and she told him girls could do anything boys could do, so on the whole, I think her generation has come a long way from their grandparents who are still counting calories in their seventies like it matters. She'll be all right.
And yes, sometimes her hair is ratty and her clothes don't match because I choose my battles and sometimes they choose me, and this is one I can let go, because like thank you notes and ironing and glove-hat-shoes combos it doesn't matter and we don't have time and I remember a few ratty days in my own childhood and watching TV before school and in the afternoon and on Saturdays and don't bother the grown-ups,
But now grandma's got time to judge.
UNCLE SAM
He's always pointing the finger, anywhere but at himself, always telling you what you need to do for him. Has it occurred to anyone in the family that this might be a toxic relationship?
He needs you to go back to work, even if you're retired, even if you started your own business (he did everything he could to make that hard for you—he has a very narrow definition of what counts as "work" and it doesn't include caring for others, you lazy SAHM, even though you never stop moving, even though you drop into bed too tired to floss), even if you don't have childcare, even if you have long Covid and can barely get out of bed. For some reason he thinks you owe him, even though he doesn't work. Pays himself a huge salary and calls in sick half the time, which at least is true.
OMICRON
Just get vaccinated already, you &^*^*^&*^@#$@#$. I don't want anyone to die, but there are a few people I'd like to get sick enough to scare them.
Oh, but wait--yes, get vaccinated, but feel bad about it because of the vaccine inequity you can do nothing about.
And all the while they're screaming and emailing, fix it, save it, the world is going to burn and your little contribution will save it. Your sacrifices will somehow make up for all the companies that wreck and pillage and plunder our earth and our lives but they can't be regulated, oh, no.
I got an ad the other day saying if I gave money to an NGO, they'd give vaccines to people who need them, but something about that just doesn't add up. Connect the dots for me on this one because I don't believe you.
I don't know, Uncle Sam. Global vaccine inequity seems like a you problem, not one where my personal check will be all that helpful.
But you won't tax Amazon. You're going to give Jeff Bezos money instead. Tell me how that makes sense.

December 20, 2021
Some days I really feel like I can't keep doing this, but I have no choice. The constant decision making, the risk calculations, the awkward conversations. I had to have one with my parents this morning about not going to a get-together tomorrow night and about visiting my stupid anti-vaxxer brother today. They're going, but they won't just ask him to wear a mask. They'll be outside and double-masked. But of course, I'm the problem here. "Can we not give them their presents?" my dad asked, incredulously, making a disgusted face like I had transformed into the actual green furry Grinch. I just want to curl up in a ball and cry. Maybe I will. He wanted to see his friends at a get-together. I told him I don't have any friends. I haven't seen a friend in months, and I think honestly they've all forgotten about me because I'm still stuck at home with a baby who can't be vaccinated or mask and if all their kids are older then they're resuming their lives, and I can't blame them, but it still sucks for me.
Later: and as it turned out my Dad did ask my brother to mask. He said, "We're heading up to Courtney's on Saturday and G can't be vaccinated. Would you please put on your mask?" And brother says, defiantly, "I'm not wearing a mask, and neither are my kids." So basically, yeah, my brother just said he doesn't care if my 1yo gets Covid. How do we come back from this? I really don't think we do, as siblings or as a nation. Brother against brother, indeed. Sister, in my case.
December 25, 2021
Well, here we are—another Hard Covid Christmas. Haha, I'm so funny. Delightful times the past couple of days as V's teacher tested positive for Covid on Wednesday night. She had no other symptoms, but she couldn't taste her tacos, so she took a test. We got the news first thing Thursday morning (V's first day off of school). We had V take a home test then, which was negative, and then she took another one this morning, which was also negative. Until this morning, we had her mask when she was out of her room or the library, but really, it all just feels pointless now. I've been doomscrolling for days, and I'm just so angry at the powers that be. The government and the CDC are telling us to get boosted, while the WHO tells us we're terrible people for getting boosted. Again, CDC, back in May, that was dumb what you did. I cannot even begin to express my frustration with how they told vaccinated people the pandemic was over for them. That was so dumb. They didn't even jump the gun, they like kicked the gun completely down the field—I know, I'm not making sense. But people cannot get it through their thick skulls that the CDC was freaking wrong. 
I'm doing the best I can, but the fact is you can't follow guidelines with young children. V was so scared and so upset about Christmas maybe being ruined. She had to be hugged, she had to be cared for, mentally as well as physically. Moms can't just stop caring for sick children. (So far, she's not sick, but still.) The guidelines are based on everyone being able to care for themselves. Again, dumb America, we need an ethos of care. We need to realize that people need care and we can't legislate our way out of that.
I'm so tired of everything. My stupid brother and his anti-vaxxer conspiracy theorist friends. The pandemic. The complete ineptitude of our government, no matter which party is in power. My own activist organizations acting like if "moms could just get back in the workforce" everything would be fine. Working in America sucks. What on earth makes them think working for an American corporation or government entity or really anything at all would be worth sacrificing my family for? How on earth is work in America supposed to be fulfilling? Every industry sucks. 
Anyway, our Christmas plans were changed a bit by V's exposure. We didn't go to Christmas Eve services, the one thing on earth I feel like might have done me some good. My parents are still driving up today because the driving's easier on Christmas and the chances of V actually developing Covid are pretty low since she and her teacher were always wearing masks and are both fully vaccinated, whatever the hell that means these days. We're skipping lunch at Sue's because of the risk of passing Covid to Grandma. We'll have dessert over there after V gets her molecular test back on Sunday, assuming she's still negative. We're going to go over in a bit for presents masked. We offered to wait—honestly it would be better for me to wait, but Sue said it would ruin Christmas if we didn't do it today. That's me. Ruiner of Christmas.
Ugh. G's having a hard time today because of the teething. He's cramming his hands practically down his throat and drooling everywhere. He only got a 30 minute nap around noon today. I tried to get him to go down again, but he wouldn't so Stephen's taken him for a drive nap. Hopefully he'll get a little nap. He doesn't care for opening presents and has just been screaming all the time with teeth for the past week or so. I can see them coming in.
I'm so sick of trying to make sense of all the different non-information out there. How long are you contagious before you're symptomatic? How long should you quarantine with a positive exposure? When should you test—IF YOU EVEN CAN TEST BECAUSE THERE ARE HARDLY ANY TESTS AVAILABLE ALL YOU JOURNALISTS WHO KEEP TELLING US TO TEST "RIGHT BEFORE THE GATHERING." We had to borrow a rapid test to test V today and promise to return it when the tests we've ordered come in this week. All the guidelines are great but they can't be followed. It's like the fact that my toothpaste tube is recyclable. No it effing isn't if there aren't any facilities!
I'm so angry. Not even because of the pandemic. These things happen and you can't take them personally. I'm angry at the people writing all the articles making assumptions that testing is even possible right now. We have to ration those things and only use them when it really matters. And the CDC and the WHO. I can only do what I can do and I can do without their stupid guilt trips.
Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals.
December 29, 2021
This is my last entry in this journal. However, I'm continuing to keep a journal because the pandemic isn't over yet. I'm afraid to turn this in, in some ways. I have no idea how I come across. Please give me the benefit of the doubt. I have tried to be good. I have done my best, but that's not good enough for so many people these days. I know I have been lucky. In a lot of ways this journal has been my safe space. Turning it over the NWHM feels unsafe in today's climate where everything feels unsafe, which is why I edited it, but it also feels important. I want my voice to be heard, even if only in the archives, even if I say the wrong thing. Please understand that I cope through gallows humor.
It's been 21 months since March 2020. The baby I was pregnant with then is walking now. They say the steps in preventing the spread are Vaccinate, Mask, Test. But my baby isn't eligible for vaccination. He's too young to mask. There aren't any tests to be had. The rhetoric assumes he doesn't exist.
Yesterday he spiked a fever of 102 degrees. He's been extra fussy since Monday. I called the pediatrician and the nurse got back to me about three hours later. It's usually about 15 minutes. She said they're seeing a lot of everything: flu, Covid, random bugs. They're saying if you have any symptoms at all, assume Omicron. I asked when they would want to see him, and she said if his fever gets to 106 (106!), go to the ER. That's not what a mama wants to hear. I told them I had a rapid Covid test, and asked if I should test him. They said it would be a waste, to wait 5-7 days. This journal's due before that, so I'm sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger.
V had a runny nose for about 24 hours on Sunday and Monday. G also has a terribly runny nose. I'm so afraid V got Covid from her teacher and the tests missed it, or that we tested too early, even though we tested in the midst of her one symptom and twice before that and they were all negative.
Stephen talked to a pediatrician from church who said it's highly unlikely it's Covid since V and her teacher were both masked at all times and G hasn't gone anywhere. We all mask anytime we're around others.
Realized I never wrote about V's (and our) bug back in the first week of November. She had something and we all got some version of it, but she tested negative twice for Covid then too.
I started with a "glob" in my throat on Monday night and a scratchy throat yesterday. I just coughed sitting here. Then I sneezed. It's exactly the same (not as bad, really) as any cold I've ever had, and the same as the symptoms I had back in November.
None of these symptoms are bad. They're just terrifying.
They say we may go through the worst of the pandemic in the next six to eight weeks. If I had to summarize the experience of the last two years, I could do it in two words: Unrelenting Pressure.
I'll keep writing, at least until this is all over.