Today, as I’m writing, it’s May 26th.
The house is *never* quiet and I mean NEVER. Even when Frank is playing video games (yep, I’m that mom) the screams, bangs and noises are endless. Gianna FaceTimes all day. There is one volume when Gianna FaceTimes, and it’s screaming.
My dog whines at my feet all day long. When I kick the kids out of the house Ruby whines at the door to go into the backyard. If I let her out she sneaks through the cracks in the gate and a neighbor has to return her (this happened twice today). So I have to choose whether to let her whine at my feet while I attempt to work in my home office, whine at the backdoor while I try to be productive, maybe have her hit by a car, or have my neighbor think I’m a total loser as a dog mom several times a day.
The doorbell rings incessantly. Today we woke up to a pond in the corner of our hardscaping by the pool so the pool man was the first ring. Then UPS came, then UPS again, and third time’s a charm with the mailman delivering packages. While working from home, Amazon and UPS deliveries never seem to end. Everything under the sun seems to get delivered to my house. If you need TP, I got you covered. Somehow I managed to get myself enrolled in monthly toilet paper deliveries from Amazon. I’ve forgotten to turn it off every month. Maybe I should do that now? Eh, I’ll remember later.
Let me mention, Ruby the whiner LOSES her mind every time the doorbell rings. More noise. Did I mention we’re getting a puppy in 10 days? Never a dull moment while working at home during COVID-19.
Frank has two friends over around 2 p.m. We’ve been through all the activities for kids at home already, so I tell them all to get out of the house immediately and go swimming. Thank goodness for Isa, our au pair. She watches them so I can work for a couple of hours in peace (except for the whining dog).
My oldest daughter calls me at 4 p.m. informing me in a very long phone conversation that her broken hand might require surgery. I have to cut her short because I’m still working from home, mid-writing a blog post that needs to be done last week.
Gianna texts me shortly after I hang up. She broke her phone at her friend’s house. “Do we have any old phones?”
“I have no idea G.”
She proceeds to tell me that Isa is going to pick her up at the scene of the broken phone and drop her back at the house so she can scavenge for a new one. Then Isa is going to drive to pick up Gianna’s two friends. Great. Fine. Whatever. Mom of one of the two girls informs me via text that she is already driving them to my house. Isa is eight minutes away from them after a 25-minute drive. I call her to let her know. I get confirmation that the two girls and said mom haven’t actually left their location yet. I call Isa again and tell her to pick up the girls as originally planned.
It’s almost 6 p.m. and I haven’t eaten a thing. I finally eat a salad with questionable leftovers.
I sneak in another 45 minutes of work and Rob gets home. We quickly hug (we do try), catch up on the day and I complain about the chaos. He very nicely listens, knowing to agree on all fronts that our children are damn near driving me to hitchhike across the country alone.
At this point, I now have seven children sleeping at my house tonight. It’s 8 p.m. and no one has been fed. I text Frank to get his Chick-fil-A order from him and his friends so I can text Isa who’s picking it up. Of course he either doesn’t have his phone or ignores me. I text Gianna for her order and tell her to go tell Frank to text me his. I confirm the order with Isa.
I, the one making sure everyone else gets fed, never get to eat dinner.
As I write this post, it’s now 10:30 p.m. and after folding and putting away 57 loads of laundry, I’m lying in bed, working again and praying these kids don’t keep me up all night. A note from Future Kelly: Despite my prayers, at 12:30 a.m., Rob went barreling down the hallway in his underwear yelling after the kids woke us. We were up till after three, mad as hell, deciding NO more sleepovers on work nights. End of note from Future Kelly.
I have 30 moms and kids coming to my house tomorrow. I just had dozens of people here over for the holiday weekend. My home has been a flop house for the last 6 days and I don’t even know who stayed over. I just know that whatever their names were, they were a lot. I’ve washed 376 towels to prove it (one of the joys of having a pool and children simultaneously).
I’ve completely lost my mind.
As we all know “summer break” started mid-March. Moms, that means we’re only halfway through this shit show called Coronasummer Break.
In terms of stress management, learn to laugh. At the kids, the pets, your spouse and especially yourself. When that doesn’t work scream at the top of your lungs, that will usually let your kids know you’re losing your shit and they’ll snap out of it. When that doesn’t work lock yourself in the closet and if that doesn’t work there’s always vodka and wine. These are uncharted waters for most of us. Survival is the key. Thriving isn’t mandatory.
