Pros and cons

Jason gets disproportionately excited about St. Patrick’s Day every year, so I’m observing the occasion by cooking ostensibly Irish dishes all week.  Corned beef and cabbage did remind me that the Irish are primarily known in culinary circles for their famines, but on shepherd’s pie night I had to admit the Irish have given a great gift to the world.  Although if you subtract potatoes from Irish cuisine...well, I can see why they all moved overseas when that happened.

Dear handsome Israel.

When we visited dear friends of a numerous household last week, I intended to bring them asparagus with the gigantic casserole I offered to a sickly pregnant mama, but my food box didn’t arrive in time.  It came two days later, with enough to feed a horde, so we’ve been eating extra green veggies this week—“spagaragus” with every meal, as Caleb says.  His amusing pronunciation led Jeddy to also tease him about how he says “electricery” (as in, “The electricery went out”), although I had to point out, in fairness, that not only did Jeddy pronounce it “ekeltricity,” but for years called the stuff you eat with a spoon “yogret,” leading all his younger siblings to do the same.

Anyhoo, our numerous-family friends having suffered through a documented bout of covid already this year (not recommended while pregnant, I hear), we figure they’re safe enough now to hang out with, especially outdoors.  Which is where we all want to be when there’s nice weather, and horses, and puppies, and hiking, and big sticks, and friends.

A number of our family members, if not our peers, have gotten vaccinated.  Meanwhile we wait, with varying levels of patience, for our turn.  After 370 days, our thoughts can reasonably contemplate a functional end of covid on the horizon.

And as much as I grouse about being last in line for the coveted shot, in my more honest moments, it occurs to me that the end of the pandemic will be a mixed bag.

Namely, I’ll have to change out of my quarantine pants back into (ugh!) jeans.  And I’ll have to drive places.

Jeddy, in complete and utter control of the horse upon which he’s riding, definitely purposely veering way off the path.

On the other hand, I’ll get to see various loved ones I’ve been missing for a year.  And I can go shopping, and actually buy clothes, not that shopping is my favorite thing, but at some point, even staying home, clothes do wear thin and get holes and when was the last time I bought new underwear? 🤔

Jeddy, still in complete control of the horse, which is now wandering off into the woods.

...and is now wading into a pond...just as Jeddy told it to.

Sadly, we’ll have to reintroduce the stress of actually making decisions about what potential events to attend, since everything under the sun will be back on the table.

But, the fear of proximity to other humans will subside, which will make necessary things like grocery shopping less stressful, and fun things like...whatever we used to do for fun....emotionally manageable.

On the other hand again:  no more free pass for failing at things.  Like not being a slob—getting dressed—being productive—logging obscene amounts of screen time for every member of the family—losing touch with friends and family.  Expectations for doing life will probably rise above zero at some point.  And we won’t be able to keep putting off those annoying things like non-urgent medical appointments or in-person tutoring.

Maybe, maybe, the end of covid will mean one less subject of political divisiveness?  That would be nice.  The kids could go back to Bible study and youth group and Sunday school.  I’ll have a less frustrated teenager on my back.  

But the exhaustion of doing things.  Just the thought is overwhelming.  Where did I get the energy to Do Things before?  Sitting under a fuzzy blanket in fuzzy pants is enough to send me yawning off to bed at 9pm.

But hugs!  We can give, and receive hugs.  And have real birthday parties.

But social anxiety.  I’ll have to talk to people!  And exercise my social skills, which were unexceptional even before atrophying for over a year.

On the other hand, at least there (eventually) won’t be the awkward dance of trying to distance from people who aren’t trying to distance from you, or not knowing what rules the other person is following in any given situation.

Regrettably, after covid I’ll have to find something new to complain about.

Oh, but the end will also alleviate the untold financial, mental, and physical suffering of millions.  

Yes, all things considered, I guess I’ll continue to pray for the end of the pandemic to come.  

And maybe a miracle for my regressed social skills.