Living in times of corona
The fifth day spinning plates and juggling at the same time. Where you might think we would have the spin down by now, the opposite seems to be happening. My work friend Esther from JAN Magazine recently blogged about her home situation and I really recognized myself in her description: it seemed as if they had trimmed each other's fuses a bit shorter. Well, today we threw a hand grenade in each other's direction.
My annual quota of ‘mamááá's’ has already been reached and when my beloved places an empty Etos bag on the floor, I growl as if he has forgotten our wedding day. Not that we are married, but that seems like a really good reason to growl and grumble. Not an empty bag that you picked up yourself in a second.
Meanwhile, my daughter is doing a Dafne Schippers around the dining table and I am trying to answer all the messages from my colleagues amidst the burning rubble of the cocktail of breakfast, schoolwork, and that 500-piece Jan van Haasteren puzzle that seemed like a particularly good idea during corona. I also discover that there is no teacher in me. I am terribly impatient in a snap-you-get-it-still-not-kid kind of way.
It is so busy that I can't keep up with their jokes and I am trying to scan and sift through the avalanche of messages.
At noon we push everything aside, grab the dog and coat, and dive into the dunes.
When all the homework is done in the afternoon, my bright spot of the day arrives: babysitter Liv. I run six kilometers with friend L and we exchange some household products. She gives me a divine apple pie that she baked with her new Magimix, I donate her half of my delicious bunches of bay leaves and coriander.
I peek around the corner. Can Liv stay just a little longer? Of course, she nods and connects two more puzzle pieces. I get into my car with my middle girl. Just a quick trip to the fishmonger and oh, shall we just pretend that life is normal and pick up that skirt I ordered from Pauw?
It feels a bit like before again. Correction: like last week. Life BC. Before Corona.
I turn out to be just in time, because my favorite store is also closing its doors. Maybe I should realize that life is no longer what it was, as much as I would like it to be.
