In fairness, I'm the kind of person who gets spooked fairly easy. The Ebola virus outbreak back in college had me secretly doubling down on supplies, and I wasn't too happy about the Zika virus outbreak when I was pregnant with Arden either. And in our current social climate MAN, when people smell fear on you, you get roasted. "You're scared of that thing? You know the flu is way worse!" or "You know that's just media fear mongering." Yes, yes, I hear you—I'm overreacting. It's my own anxiety, so just pretend not to notice me over here panicking. ;)
But perhaps for once, I was (in fact) not overreacting. Don't worry, this shocks me as well. (Although after you read the next few paragraphs you may think I was/am completely overreacting.)
Starting March 2nd I started to stock up on supplies—not STOCKPILE, but just made sure I had ample of what we needed. In the face of uncertainty, knowing I have food and medicine for my family makes me feel in control. On my first trip to Target I bought things that seemed rational: extra diapers, toilet paper (this was well before the infamous shortage), clorox wipes, laundry detergent, flu meds, vitamins, hand soap, bleach, Lysol, etc. I was slightly terrified to tell Drew I'd stocked up for the impending apocalypse. Thankfully, I think a small part of him was relieved. HOWEVER, as I continued to come home with more and more carloads of food and supplies in the days that followed, I am, in fact, certain he believed I was losing grip on reality. And maybe I was. But he DID hold his tongue!
This meme was me 100%. Justifying my purchases like, "But we will use this, pandemic or not!"
Our pantry started to really fill up...
By the way, I'm not showing you my pantry as some weird flex. I'm showing you for levity. These purchases weren't even smart or well planned, they were just weird. Many gallons of baby water, five cans of baby formula, ample baby food, (here's where things get odd) evaporated milk, ramen, kraft mac n cheese, so much instant oatmeal, canned soups, spaghetti o's, peanut butter, canned orange juice—y'all, what was my plan here?
There is a very disorganized place in the back of the pantry closet where I store random party supplies which is where I hid my really disturbing purchases like pasta, dried beans, rice, etc. You'll also notice that I pre-purchased all of Arden's Easter basket supplies fully expecting to be stuck indoors until Easter.
And by the way, the creepier and emptier the grocery stores got, the more I felt like I needed to buy. Feeding the hysteria. Nice move, America. Just kidding, I fully blame my own anxiety.
But aside from my personal issues, this was getting real. When they finally canceled SXSW in Austin on March 6th to prevent the potential spread, we all kind of knew where this thing was heading. Plus, each day that passed brought more cases of the virus to America. And we kept hearing more and more bad news from countries like Italy. Their healthcare system was loaded down with coronavirus patients, its infrastructure on the verge of collapse from the influx of sick people. Finally, their country was put into a straight up mandatory quarantine, which is when things in America took a turn. It all of a sudden became very important that we did NOT become Italy. So our countrywide shut down went something like this from my small perspective: First the big events (like SXSW) canceled "out of an abundance of caution", then the smaller events followed suit (like Magnolia's Spring at the Silos). Then Discovery put a ban on all travel that was not "business critical." Then even the critical stuff was encouraged to be conducted by video chat. Then Trump sealed off our borders, and many states and cities began encouraging social distancing and implementing curfews and business closures (like gyms, bars, clubs, etcetera). They also closed down schools, encouraging online instruction.
In Waco just about everywhere is closed for business other than grocery stores, pharmacies, and some restaurants with curbside capabilities. This week Magnolia also closed all guest facing business units until at least March 30th and postponed the annual marathon for the fall (which was extra upsetting since Mom and I were in the middle of training for the half). Baylor extended their spring break a whole week, and will likely not have students return for the rest of the semester. Most universities are doing the same.
The Whitehouse currently encourages not being in groups of more than ten at a time, so workplaces are mostly closed as well, other than those lucky enough to be able to work remotely. We're also holding church services in our homes, doing virtual workouts, and keeping our kids home from daycare—which is closed even if I were comfortable taking them.
March 16th the first 6 cases of travel-related coronavirus were reported in our county. So it's here.
And we're spooked. Not as much about the virus—come what may with the actual virus, we will take it one day at a time. The scarier part is the uncertainty. We're working from home. Our kids are home with us. We haven't left the house except for HEB or to go out on a walk. We are worried for our jobs, for our economy, for our city, for our elderly, for our peace of mind, and for our normalcy. We so desperately want a little bit of that back. I want to run to Starbucks and grab a coffee. Drew wants to take the girls on a real outing to get their wiggles out. We want to take a family trip to Target. We want to plan a summer vacation. We want to take our girls to their regularly scheduled doctor appointments without fear of catching this thing. We want to run to HEB and find endless fresh produce to choose from rather than empty shelves. The list goes on.
And I KNOW there is no reason to fear. Matthew 6:34 gives us the MOST wise advice—don't worry about tomorrow. So I am resting in that and trying to find peace in it rather than leaning on my own understanding. There is a plan at play and it's bigger than the coronavirus. Drew and I have been playing "The Blessing" by Kari Jobe / Elevation Worship a lot. I highly recommend it if you have an anxious heart.
May His favor be upon you and a thousand generations,
and your family,
and your children,
and their children,
and their children.
Good stuff.
For some fun, I present you with a few scenes from our first week of quarantine:
Arden, sleepy morning eyes but ready to help me "work"
Collins and Poppy at family dinner before the official "no more than ten in a room" call was made
We may or may not have snuck into an abandoned school park to play for a few minutes on our walk.
Could not be bothered—EXCEPT when she was screaming over so many of my work calls.
Drew readying our outdoor furniture for an alfresco dinner.
Big sis wanted Coll to be a princess.
What an unprecedented moment. Lately it doesn't come naturally, but it is important to stay grateful through this. We are blessed with health and work and food when so many are not. So we'll press on! We'll do what we can. And we'll come out the other end of this more thankful than ever for coffee dates and handshakes and normalcy.
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