Bean’s favourite is being naked. I feel like this is the universe, punishing me for putting my parents through the same misery when I was little. Today she took off her shirt, then kept threatening to take off her pants. The ‘threats’ were kind of comical, as Bean is non-verbal, so she would start to remove her track pants until I told her ‘No, pants stay on!’ She’d make a little ‘o’ with her mouth, her whole face betraying the fact that she understood perfectly that she was doing something she’s not supposed to, bend over, hike her pants up, laugh like a little maniac and run away. Then, she’d run back to where I was sitting, make sure I was watching and repeat the whole fun little strip-tease routine, until I finally gave up. She took off her pants and diaper and was running around the house stark naked when Hubs got home from work. He found me sitting on the floor of the kitchen. I was too tired to cry. Now, in my defense, this is Day #23 of self-isolation.
Just me and Bean, all day, everyday, 5 days a week until Hubs arrives home from work.
And yes, I LOVE having all this time to spend with Bean, I feel so fortunate and blessed, etc., etc.
No one in our little family is sick as of yet (well, besides the usual chronic conditions) Hubs and I are both, for the moment, still gainfully employed and neither one of us is any kind of front-line worker, let alone a Doctor or Nurse. Now, with all that out of the way, can I just say (write) that staying home and, I do mean home, with the exception of ‘yard time’ (you know, like in prison) or a walk/trike ride around the block (thrilling), with an autistic toddler ALL DAY is no joke!
I knew I’d lost all control and that our pint-sized hellian was actually WINNING this particular self-isolation Monday, when I was kneeling on top of a plastic tablecloth, my hands submerged in warm-but-not-too-hot water filled with bubbles and water beads -bubbles AND water beads, you guys! - encouraging Bean to dip, even just a pinky finger into the water, when she unexpectedly plunged both of her little fists into the water, grabbed as many water beads as she could, ran to the top of the staircase and threw, with all her might - she really leaned into it- the multicoloured water beads onto the white carpet on the level below. Now, I can guess what you’re thinking; but Bean’s Mom, why white carpet? You may even be thinking that I got what I had coming to me. So, let me clear this up right away; I did not choose the white carpet, it was already here when we bought the house, long before Bean was on the scene. Anyways, she repeated the water bead toss multiple times as I weighed the advantages of the sensory experience against the clean-up effort. Also, she disarmed me with her adorable smile every time; I kept getting tricked into trusting her.
On this particular day, Bean also managed to toss handfuls of cat food from the cat’s dish all over the kitchen floor, more than once. An awkward tussle ensued when I tried to hand-over-hand help Bean use her new Bean-sized broom to sweep up some of the cat food. She ended up on the floor, in tears. So did I, but much later and in private, where she couldn’t see me. Once her tears had dried we picked the cat food up off the floor with our fingers. Here’s the worst part: I didn’t even mind BECAUSE IT KILLED 5 MINUTES!
So, anyhow, tough day.
To circle back, I know that I have no right to complain and pretty much every conversation I have with a friend or family member starts off with them saying those same words. Today I decided I’m tired of hearing those words. No, I’m not in the worst situation possible right now. I am not sick. I am not risking my own health to go to work everyday. I am not now, nor will I ever be, a Healthcare Hero. In fact, I’m not any kind of hero. But not everyone is fighting this battle on the frontlines. In fact, most of us are fighting on the homefront. Make no mistake, the homefront is currently a battleground too. If the damage done on your battleground is easily fixed with a band-aid and a kiss instead of a ventilator, if your daily battle can be fought while wearing PJ bottoms and an oversized T-Shirt (shoot, hope that’s not just me!) and if those in your care happen to be more concerned with the disruption to their daily routine than the global scale of this pandemic, it doesn’t mean that you aren’t struggling with your new day-to-day reality. In our pre-COVID lives, there are always folks who are up against more difficult circumstances than you or I, and that’s no different now. But that doesn’t mean that we have to be okay all the time or that we can’t have tough days and it definitely doesn’t mean that we can’t complain. In fact, if I hear one more person say , ‘I know I shouldn’t complain, but...’, I might actually be physically sick! You complain, you cry, punch your pillow or scream into it, whatever your thing is, you do it. And if anybody asks, you just tell them Bean’s Mom said it was okay. I have all the faith in the world that you’ll get up and try again tomorrow.
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