Annunciation
April 25, 2020
The Feast of the Annunciation was the best day I’ve had in a long time. To celebrate the angel coming to Mary to announce to her the good news nine months before Christmas, we ate wonderful food and studied the feast as part of our school. The whole day went well when I wasn’t pondering the idea of irrelevant jobs and the night ended with great family time.
The whole isolation at home is becoming more routine. The kids’ teachers have all learned how to use video conferencing and more of the kids’ schoolwork is done during the hour or so of actual class time which I don’t have to supervise. We are still adding some classes and managing rooms and computers and laptops and times in a circus of craziness. I don’t know about the other families, but we don’t allow our kids to have unlimited internet access which means that when Basil, Xenia and Jonah all have classes starting at nine in the morning, I have to be in three places at once to put in the computer passwords. Still every morning has a plan and check lists for the kids make it easier to break the school day into doable tasks.
Most of the kids made their own lunches but I made Esther, Mike and I toasted tuna sandwiches for lunch. The Annunciation feels like a huge feast in part because it’s a fish day in the middle of Lent.
After we finished, Esther said, “I’m going to read Plato.”
Mike said, “I’m going back to work.”
I frowned, “I guess I’ll go clean the kitchen.”
Mike paused and brought his plate over to the sink.
I turned the water on and complained, “I’m not feeling very glamorous.”
“Most people’s work isn’t glamorous,” he said and headed through the living room to the office, “I’m going to work…on the Corona virus.”
It felt lame to be the one doing menial work. I wished I were reading lofty books and thinking deep thoughts or working on corona virus research tools. The government has shut down all businesses that it deems unessential. I cut Jonah and Justin’s hair this week because hairdressers like my new friend Shane, who I met in my zoom writing class, are deemed unessential. So many people who offer valuable services are being forced to stay at home and not work. It’s been a while since I defined myself by homeschooling and housework. The biggest service I feel like I contributed to the world was my capacity to bring people together. My tea parties are famous. It’s hard to be asked to narrow my world.
I had to go in search of my students after lunch and found Jonah, Xenia and Justin up in a tree.
“Justin needs to finish his spelling, and it’s time for our art and Saint of the Day time.” I called up.
Justin swung around to get a better view of me, “Can we just finish this game? I like being with my siblings.”
Jonah was more realistic, “Er. Well. This is a never ending game.”
“Just ten minutes more,” I said.
They chorused, “Yes, mom!”
For circle time on the Day of the Annunciation, the kids gathered around and colored the print outs of the icon of the Annunciation. We didn’t have a reader’s service as we now do on Sunday mornings, but the kids learned a lot from our lesson. The conversation was edifying for all of us.
Dinner was fish sticks and fish fillets, broccoli and rice. Afterwards, everyone helped me to clear the table and we sat around a played the party game Blank Slate. Even Justin can write well enough to join in the fun. Then we headed to the backyard for a rowdy game of ultimate football, with boys verses. girls. I was out there being awesome in my jeans skirt and headscarf, too lazy to change into anything else. It wasn’t a problem, though the family had to give me a modesty break when I fell down and the scarf came off. Football has since become an every other day tradition. It’s great fun and though we sometimes mix up the teams we are most evenly matched with our boys verses girls. The evenings have been warm and though the pollen count is high, the mosquitos aren’t out yet. It’s the perfect time of year.
Earlier this week Sophia cut her pinkie on a string from a piece of clothing. She came to me with an angry red wound. We could feel her pulse through her hurt finger. She’s allergic to antibiotic ointments. I recommended soaking it in hot water and Epson salts and then applying hydrogen peroxide. Her finger was better by morning.
A few nights ago, Justin played a game with Xenia in which the loser had to eat pickles or tomatoes or mustard. I called to them from my bed to stop their game before their stomachs ached and to go to sleep. That night at midnight Jonah woke me up by sneaking through my room and shaking my arm. Justin had been crying for hours because his finger hurt. After I stopped screaming from being startled from a creepy dream in such a traumatic way, I went upstairs to the little boys’ room.
“Can I see your finger?” I asked Justin who was whimpering.
He held up his index finger covered in a bandage.
“Will you take off your bandage?”
He shook his head no.
“I have to be able to look at it to see how bad it is?”
He took it off carefully and stuck it to a chair next to his bedside table so that he could reuse it.
It was a tiny cut. It was hard to see how deep it was, but there was no need for stiches.
“Did you wash it with soap and water?”
He shook his head no again.
“Could you have gotten something on it like pickle juice?”
“That’s exactly what happened!” Justin looked at me, eyes wide in amazement.
I basked in the pleasure of omniscient parenthood. He washed his finger. The pain went away, and he fell deep into sleep. Sleep didn’t come back to me for several hours. Every time I closed my eyes, the sense of someone creeping over chased me from the bed.
I kept vigil in the front room where our icons adorn the wall. Sometime before six when I fell asleep again, I was able to think about the good I do for my family. I am all knowing when it comes to healing their small ailments and the location of almost anything in the pantry. I am tireless in the kitchen and laundry. I’m an asset in backyard football. My family is blessed by all that I do.
Life is so good. We found out that our housekeeper and her husband have been taking the social isolation seriously since the government ordered it and we feel safe having her come back to work. Cleaning people are considered essential.
I am worried about the uncertainty ahead and pray for my friends and neighbors and all of the people in the city, state, nation, and world who are affected by this pandemic. I also give thanks for the many, many good things in my life. I love the people I’m quarantined with and give God thanks for blessing me with each and every one of them.
April 25, 2020
The Feast of the Annunciation was the best day I’ve had in a long time. To celebrate the angel coming to Mary to announce to her the good news nine months before Christmas, we ate wonderful food and studied the feast as part of our school. The whole day went well when I wasn’t pondering the idea of irrelevant jobs and the night ended with great family time.
The whole isolation at home is becoming more routine. The kids’ teachers have all learned how to use video conferencing and more of the kids’ schoolwork is done during the hour or so of actual class time which I don’t have to supervise. We are still adding some classes and managing rooms and computers and laptops and times in a circus of craziness. I don’t know about the other families, but we don’t allow our kids to have unlimited internet access which means that when Basil, Xenia and Jonah all have classes starting at nine in the morning, I have to be in three places at once to put in the computer passwords. Still every morning has a plan and check lists for the kids make it easier to break the school day into doable tasks.
Most of the kids made their own lunches but I made Esther, Mike and I toasted tuna sandwiches for lunch. The Annunciation feels like a huge feast in part because it’s a fish day in the middle of Lent.
After we finished, Esther said, “I’m going to read Plato.”
Mike said, “I’m going back to work.”
I frowned, “I guess I’ll go clean the kitchen.”
Mike paused and brought his plate over to the sink.
I turned the water on and complained, “I’m not feeling very glamorous.”
“Most people’s work isn’t glamorous,” he said and headed through the living room to the office, “I’m going to work…on the Corona virus.”
It felt lame to be the one doing menial work. I wished I were reading lofty books and thinking deep thoughts or working on corona virus research tools. The government has shut down all businesses that it deems unessential. I cut Jonah and Justin’s hair this week because hairdressers like my new friend Shane, who I met in my zoom writing class, are deemed unessential. So many people who offer valuable services are being forced to stay at home and not work. It’s been a while since I defined myself by homeschooling and housework. The biggest service I feel like I contributed to the world was my capacity to bring people together. My tea parties are famous. It’s hard to be asked to narrow my world.
I had to go in search of my students after lunch and found Jonah, Xenia and Justin up in a tree.
“Justin needs to finish his spelling, and it’s time for our art and Saint of the Day time.” I called up.
Justin swung around to get a better view of me, “Can we just finish this game? I like being with my siblings.”
Jonah was more realistic, “Er. Well. This is a never ending game.”
“Just ten minutes more,” I said.
They chorused, “Yes, mom!”
For circle time on the Day of the Annunciation, the kids gathered around and colored the print outs of the icon of the Annunciation. We didn’t have a reader’s service as we now do on Sunday mornings, but the kids learned a lot from our lesson. The conversation was edifying for all of us.
Dinner was fish sticks and fish fillets, broccoli and rice. Afterwards, everyone helped me to clear the table and we sat around a played the party game Blank Slate. Even Justin can write well enough to join in the fun. Then we headed to the backyard for a rowdy game of ultimate football, with boys verses. girls. I was out there being awesome in my jeans skirt and headscarf, too lazy to change into anything else. It wasn’t a problem, though the family had to give me a modesty break when I fell down and the scarf came off. Football has since become an every other day tradition. It’s great fun and though we sometimes mix up the teams we are most evenly matched with our boys verses girls. The evenings have been warm and though the pollen count is high, the mosquitos aren’t out yet. It’s the perfect time of year.
Earlier this week Sophia cut her pinkie on a string from a piece of clothing. She came to me with an angry red wound. We could feel her pulse through her hurt finger. She’s allergic to antibiotic ointments. I recommended soaking it in hot water and Epson salts and then applying hydrogen peroxide. Her finger was better by morning.
A few nights ago, Justin played a game with Xenia in which the loser had to eat pickles or tomatoes or mustard. I called to them from my bed to stop their game before their stomachs ached and to go to sleep. That night at midnight Jonah woke me up by sneaking through my room and shaking my arm. Justin had been crying for hours because his finger hurt. After I stopped screaming from being startled from a creepy dream in such a traumatic way, I went upstairs to the little boys’ room.
“Can I see your finger?” I asked Justin who was whimpering.
He held up his index finger covered in a bandage.
“Will you take off your bandage?”
He shook his head no.
“I have to be able to look at it to see how bad it is?”
He took it off carefully and stuck it to a chair next to his bedside table so that he could reuse it.
It was a tiny cut. It was hard to see how deep it was, but there was no need for stiches.
“Did you wash it with soap and water?”
He shook his head no again.
“Could you have gotten something on it like pickle juice?”
“That’s exactly what happened!” Justin looked at me, eyes wide in amazement.
I basked in the pleasure of omniscient parenthood. He washed his finger. The pain went away, and he fell deep into sleep. Sleep didn’t come back to me for several hours. Every time I closed my eyes, the sense of someone creeping over chased me from the bed.
I kept vigil in the front room where our icons adorn the wall. Sometime before six when I fell asleep again, I was able to think about the good I do for my family. I am all knowing when it comes to healing their small ailments and the location of almost anything in the pantry. I am tireless in the kitchen and laundry. I’m an asset in backyard football. My family is blessed by all that I do.
Life is so good. We found out that our housekeeper and her husband have been taking the social isolation seriously since the government ordered it and we feel safe having her come back to work. Cleaning people are considered essential.
I am worried about the uncertainty ahead and pray for my friends and neighbors and all of the people in the city, state, nation, and world who are affected by this pandemic. I also give thanks for the many, many good things in my life. I love the people I’m quarantined with and give God thanks for blessing me with each and every one of them.