day 6

So yesterday evening my husband and I sat down to start off the weekend with Apero and briefed about our thoughts on the first week of lockdown.  The word chaotic came up a lot.   

We talked about how different things were from a week ago when we were on vacation in Chamonix.  The kids went to ski school.  We went skiing/snowboarding.  Before that it was business as usual.  We were working and taking public transportation every day while the kids were in school/day care.  And then bam.  Lockdown.  

We watched from afar when the Coronavirus started in Wuhan China in December halting Lunar New Year celebrations.  We started to hear about cases in France end of January.  By mid-February it was all people could talk about.  Was it or wasn’t it dangerous?  Didn’t the flu kill more people every year?  I noticed people where giving me more space on the metro especially if I coughed.  My parents were surprised we ordered sushi from a restaurant owned by Chinese people.  When Italy was hard hit, people started making jokes about eating pizza.  

Now we’re sitting in our apartment like we have done for the past six days in order to save lives as part of a quarantine strategy employed today not only by France but by Argentina, Austria, Belgium, Czech Republic, Denmark, El Salvador, Honduras, Ireland, Italy, Lebanon, Malaysia, Morocco, Poland, Spain, United Kingdom, and Venezuela.  

Oh how things have changed. 

day 5

So this morning I received the Global Health Advisory - Level 4 Do Not Travel:

“The Department of State advises U.S. citizens to avoid all international travel due to the global impact of COVID-19. In countries where commercial departure options remain available, U.S. citizens who live in the United States should arrange for immediate return to the United States, unless they are prepared to remain abroad for an indefinite period.

Red. This is the highest advisory level due to greater likelihood of life-threatening risks. During an emergency, the U.S. government may have very limited ability to provide assistance.”

Reassuring.  Add to that that the French government announced that:

“As of March 17, European Union external borders will close for 30 days. This does not apply to U.S. citizens departing France to return to the United States. Travel across the Schengen area’s internal borders will be significantly restricted. Commercial flights operated by Air France remain available for U.S. citizens who wish to return to the United States. Check with the carrier directly to arrange or reschedule travel.”

What’s strange is that before all this I had no definite plans to go back to the States but seeing these kind sof restrictions I started to feel a new kind of containment.  As if I were not only contained the apartment but I was also being contained in France. 

Of course I can’t just leave.  My husband is French and my daughter’s passport has expired.  I meant to renew before I left for vacation last week but I just never got around to it.  I said to myself:  It’s not urgent I can do it when I get back. 

Right.

day 4

So for the past four days I play these roles, sometimes all at the same time:

        -Mother
       - Cook
       - House-keeper
       - Teacher
       - Referee
       - Full time employee

It’s tough especially when you get solicited by all of the above at the same time.  And my kids don’t really understand that although I’m at home I’m working.  To simplify I put on a ridiculous red beret and tell them when Mommy’s wearing the red beret she’s working so she’s not to be bothered.  My daughter gets it but it goes something like this:

Daughter:  Mom can you blow this balloon up for me?

Me:  Honey, remember what I said?  What does it mean when I wear this red beret?

Daughter:  You’re working!

Me:  And?

Daughter:  We’re not to bother you.

Me:  Ok.

Daughter:  [Leaves.  Comes back in five minutes] Mom can you blow up this balloon for me? 

At least I get five minutes.   This is how it goes with my son:

Son: Balloon!!!!!!!

Me:  Honey, remember what I said?  What does it mean when I wear this red beret?

Son: Red!

Me:  Yes it’s red but what does it mean?

Son: Red!

Me:  I’m working.

Son: Balloon!!!!!!!

Me:  And not to be bothered.

Son:  Balloon!!!!!!! Balloon!!!!!!! Balloon!!!!!!!

Later my boss messages me with an urgent task.  At the same time my husband wants to know if I need anything because he’s ordering online now because the next available pick up is in one week (normally we can order two days before).  There were also a lot of items unavailable so he asked me to anticipate any needs.  Oh and he wants to know why am I wearing that ridiculous beret?  In the background my kids are having a “who can jump higher” contest on the couch.  So what do I do first?  What’s the priority?  My boss? Having enough food to eat?  Preventing my kids from hurting themselves because this is not the time to go to the hospital?  And these are the urgent things.  I also have to get their afternoon snacks ready otherwise we’ll add hungry unhappy low blood sugar kids to the mix and I should really clear the floor of toys least someone (mainly me) trips and falls and, of course, now is NOT the time for someone to go to the hospital.  

While I’m thinking about all this husband wants to know when we can take the kids out because they’ve been cooped up all day hence the jumping on the couch contest but unfortunately I need to get this thing done for my boss and oh, are there apples available at the store?

Finally I finish the thing for my boss and we take the kids out on their bikes so they can exercise without touching too many things or trying to talk to too many people.  All of a sudden I notice my son is going way to fast across a small street and there’s a car and omg I grab him as fast as I can as the car hails to a stop. 

He’s ok.  I am lucky. 

And ashamed to admit that right before this happened, this was what going through my mind:  I should really stop by the store to pick up some apples since we don’t have enough fresh fruits until next week’s grocery pick up. 

….

Today at 8pm we went out on our balcony to cheer for medical personnel on the front line in the fight against the Coronavirus. 

Bravo.