The Silver Lining

This post picks up where my last one left off, last Friday the 13th.

The next day, we woke up to snow. We couldn’t believe it. All winter, we’d been hoping for snow, wishing for some, and nothing. Until schools close and the world starts shutting down. It started snowing again during the day, and they were the biggest, fluffiest flakes I had ever seen.

THIS IS THE SILVER LINING! THIS IS PERFECT! I yelled as my family and I gawked out the window. My kids scrambled to put on shoes (no jackets) and ran out into our yard to play. Still wearing my pajamas, I put on a jacket, hat, and snow boots and decided to sneak out the front door to stand still in the (relative) quiet.

Several neighbors were outside also enjoying the weather, including my next door neighbor with their young son. Earlier, we saw our neighbors across the street letting their two retrievers frolic and play in their front yard. They looked like they were having the time of their lives.

“They should have their dogs on leashes.” my son dutifully said. He’s heard me complain in private and chastise people in person for not having dogs on leashes. It’s not safe for all involved, and I’m proud that my son now knows this.

“You’re right. They should be on leashes.” I replied.


I stood on the sidewalk and looked up. The fat flakes were falling so slowly that I could pick one out and position myself so I could catch it in my mouth.

I heard a shout from across the street and I looked up just in time to witness one of the gorgeous dogs get hit broadsided by an oncoming truck. It all happened in slow motion and all at once.

My other next door neighbor burst out of his house and started screaming. Apparently he had been watching from inside. He yelled at the owner something about how the dog should have been on a leash and pick him up, get him to the vet, RIGHT NOW. I also heard a voice whimpering oh no, oh no, oh no and realized it was mine. The owner ushered the still upright and walking dog into their house and closed the door. The truck was long gone; it never even slowed down.

Realizing there was nothing I could do, I turned around and made eye contact with my neighbor and his son. Oh god, I hope he didn’t see, I thought, and not knowing what else to do I turned and walked into my house and burst into tears.

I kept peeking out my window because I wanted to make sure they were going to get the dog emergency care. I saw a man come out and empty out the trunk of a car. The next time I peeked, the car was gone.

Over the weekend I kept watching for the car, and it didn’t come back until 48 hours later. I am both desperate and terrified to know how the dog is – too terrified to go and outright ask.

Needless to say, that event definitely spoiled my day and probably my entire weekend. I took a ridiculously long shower, trying to wash off the trauma. As a trauma therapist, I’ve heard every disturbing narrative you could imagine and many you can’t, but I’ve never actually seen something so traumatic. I also can’t tolerate violence toward animals, real or fabricated.

I spent the rest of the day manically cleaning my house. None of us went anywhere that day.

Since then, we’ve essentially been sheltering in place. On Sunday I saw on Facebook that our local library was closing the next day, so I ran out and checked out a buttload of books and DVDs to hopefully last us for a long time. My husband called in sick on Monday and then went to work on Tuesday only to pack all of his office supplies into his car so he could continue working from home. Besides walks around the neighborhood, grocery shopping, the dentist, and one trip to the pediatrician because my kids continue to be sick, we’ve been hanging out at home, just trying to hang on and get well.

I’m pretty terrified. I’ve said it feels like we’re waiting for an invisible tidal wave to hit us and the anticipation is crushing me. I’ve had to shake off the ridiculous expectations that suddenly mothers are supposed to homeschool their kids like we don’t have enough shit piled on our backs. Not only are mine still ill, but they are confused and frustrated and do not take well to their mom trying to get them to do fucking worksheets. To hell with all that. We’ve been taking temperatures daily, we’ve been watching a lot of movies, and we’ve been taking walks, reading books, writing letters to grandparents, and doing art. On our walks, I’ve been carrying chalk and writing positive messages around the neighborhood. Once the rains come and wash them away, I’ll go out and do it again. Not sure if I’m doing that for myself or for others, but I guess that doesn’t really matter.

I’ve been meaning to compile a list of the positive side effects we’ve been experiencing as a result of all this chaos.

  • We get to sleep in
  • We don’t have to worry about being on time for shit
  • All the hilarious memes and videos and late night shows being broadcast from celebrities’ couches
  • I don’t have to make school lunches every night
  • My husband is home during the day
  • My house is going to be spotless by the time this is all over
  • Our carbon footprint has been drastically reduced! Both on a local and global level; how exciting is that?! Perhaps this experience will drive lasting change.

Now go wash your hands and stop touching your face.

 

 

No Spoilers, Please

I find that, as I get older, and especially once I became a mom, my tolerance for scary media has plummeted.

I’m more anxious, the world is a scarier place, and momma needs her some sleep.

And yet.

Enter Stranger Things, that one Netflix show all the kids are talking about. I’m only 4 episodes in, and already I’m scared out of my mind.

About a week ago, a light in our kitchen started flickering from time to time. That didn’t bother me until we started Stranger Thinging it. CHANGE IT. CHANGE IT YESTERDAY.

Oh , and thanks a lot for ruining Christmas lights for me. Jesus H Christ.

I’ll leave you with this haiku expressing my random thoughts on the matter:

Eighties nostalgia/

I can’t take the creepiness/

Quitter I am not.

 


NaBloPoMo Day 5

 

The Apartment Next Door

Recently our next door neighbors in the apartment complex moved out, and about a week after that we saw somebody new moving furniture in.  We weren’t sure that our new neighbors are actually living next door yet because we haven’t run into them, but two nights ago I figured I had my answer.

Our bedroom wall is shared with these neighbors, and it’s actually the same wall that our heads are right up against as we sleep. That night I woke up with a start and looked at the clock.  1:45 am.  I laid there and listened and I heard nothing, so I rolled over and went back to sleep with the mental note to talk to Brian about switching our bedroom and office, since the office doesn’t share walls with any other tenants.  I was concerned that our apparently noisy new neighbors were going to continue to interrupt my sleep.

Just moments before I looked at the clock, I heard a little boy whimpering and crying for his mom.  After a bit I then heard him ask a question about “what was under there,” and heard his mom mumble something through the wall.  Sounded like a kid getting scared in the middle of the night after moving into a new, strange place.

In the morning, after I slammed my hand onto the snooze button for the second time, I asked Brian if he heard the little boy.

“What little boy?”  He asked.

“…you know, he was crying last night in the apartment next door.  They must have a kid.  You didn’t wake up?”

“Nope.  And I don’t think anyone is living next door.”

“But I heard them!”

“…have you seen them?”

(in my small voice) “…nooo.”

And we still haven’t seen anyone come in or out of the apartment next door.