No It All

All of this time at home has brought back crafty James– the one who teaches himself latte art, screen prints original designs, makes his own wine and kombucha, and once sewed a pair of kid-sized jeans.

James continues building out his e-commerce offerings.  After selling multiple felt banners, and possibly inspired by a blackout during Week 1, he decided to make candles.  I volunteered to name his candles and write the descriptions.

Here’s what I’ve got so far…

Tiger King: This soothing scent is one part lavender, one part leather.  Erase the unease brought on by polygamous cub petting, pink camo, piercings, and padlocks.  Melt away the anxiety of flower crowns and fringe.  My purrsonal favorite.

Ozark: Does pandemic prison have you longing to throw on your trunks and head to the lake?  This candle conjures the ease of a day on the water with middle notes of teakwood.  As the evening turns to twilight, enjoy the warm scents of amber, vanilla, and beach bonfire.  Base notes of poppy and clean cash.

Narcos: Take your staycation up a notch.  This candle evokes the luxury of a certain lifestyle, minus the shootouts.  The perfect ambient addition to a Netflix binge or Zoom date.  Exotic notes of candied grapefruit may just have you popping the top on that White Claw a little early.

It’s finally Saturday.  Nate and I went to Pacheco and played soccer while James and Jake went to Home Depot.  We enjoyed a sunny day of yard work including the installation of some new house numbers, ripping out non-native ice plant, and propagating wildflowers.

Before we returned home, Nate stayed in the car while I waited in line outside the grocery store.  While others had various masks, medical gloves, and face coverings, not to worry: I had the black ninja face bra for protection.

Probably more effective from an intimidation standpoint.  Breath on me and “hiiigh-yah!”

One video.
Two days.
Three emails.
Hundreds changed.

Leadership.
Back-to-back.
Unknown colleagues in shock.
FAQs. Packets. Docusign. Pay4us.

Broken hearts, broken teams.
Could I still come back someday?
Emotionally spent.
Bob Jones paved in tears.

On Thursday I woke-up in the 5am hour, anticipating a work email that would set into motion just about the hardest week of my career.  I made some coffee and looked across our front yard in the early morning light.  Not only do I see a cat I’ve never seen before, ever.  But it’s also black.  Just moseying its way directly across the path I take from the house to the barn every, single, day.

Seriously.

This week on one of my calls, my work buddy, Thomas, brought some much needed humor to my day.

2020 is clearly trying too hard.
I mean really, she already had brand recognition going for her.
And the Olympics.
And a long awaited presidential election.
She was already special as a leap year.
Off to a fantastic start.
We were set to have our biggest year yet at work.
Plans for product development and our long awaited partner store.
But she wasn’t satisfied.  No, not 2020.
She just had to go for global pandemic.
Oh 2020.
So insecure.

Today is Tuesday.  It’s March 31st.  We’re a few days into Week 3 of house arrest.  And it doesn’t look like this is ending anytime soon.

Every morning during our team check-in Zoom, we do a roundtable.  A few days ago I started adding a new question to the update, in addition to each person’s focus for the day.

Yesterday I asked people to share the best thing they’d watched on TV over the weekend.  At least thirty percent of my team said something about a Netflix show called Tiger King.  They used words like wild and bizarre.  I smiled and nodded in that way that one learns to do having grown up in the boondocks without cable.  MTV?  Yeah, like, totally.

Not knowing what they were talking about, I envisioned some fictional series that was half Game of Thrones and half Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.  I mention it to James and he tells me he watched the first episode the night before and I should catch-up so we can watch it together.

Here I was, innocently looking for something to take my mind off the stress of the global health crisis and economic meltdown.

Two episodes in, a sleepless night, and now I need something to distract me from the insanity that is the Tiger King.

On Saturday, in one of our dozen daily ParentSquare notifications, a little gem came through announcing that school is definitely closed until May first.  Gone are the days when I couldn’t imagine three weeks without public education.  Oh how I wistfully look back on those March days with such fondness.

Today the Chorro girls text string went something like this:

MP: Teepee making at Palm Academy 😉

JB: Are you taking applications for April?

MP: Maybe boarding school for April?  Send all the kids to Alesia’s? J/K

JB: They’ll camp in the teepee 😉

Me: I’m looking for an alternative that combines Cuesta’s College for Kids with Kennolyn and soccer camp.  Willing to shell out thousands.  Awaiting the URL for signups.

AH: I will let Charles know Camp Crompton may have some signups.

Me: I already love the name.

On Sunday we packed-up all our cold cuts, three remaining blondies and two bottles of kombucha and drove to see the elephant seals.  The beach was relatively sparse with several dozen babies and a couple of mommies.  Nate shined as the familial expert on “elefantes marinos,” having recently visited San Simeon on a third grade field trip.  He knows a lot about daddy elephant seals, “I think they’re called bulls, Mom.”

Just down the road we found a restroom and some tables where we ate our little picnic, surrounded only by birds, ground squirrels, and a drive-by from the local park warden.  We arrived back home in the early afternoon so I headed down the mountain for a date with the Bob Jones.

I’d never really thought about the long wooden boardwalk and viewing deck that allows us to experience this unique animal opportunity from a distance.  Who knew?

Elephant seals: the social-distancing OG.

It’s Saturday and sunny.
Big breakfast with bacon.
Walked the full Bob Jones.
Met the boys at the beach.
Finished our tax prep.
Ate tacos.

Remember that movie Groundhog Day?  After watching it, I vowed to never watch it again.  It was excruciating.  That 6:00AM alarm clock?  The Sonny and Cher “I Got You Babe” soundtrack?  I remembered him jumping off a building, but I couldn’t remember what it was that broke the curse.

After the last two weeks of days blurring into one another, it felt like Groundhog Day.  I was clearly losing track of my daily Coronavirus blog count.  And then last night, I was possessed by an inexplicable desire to rewatch the movie.  We had a special takeaway dinner from Sidecar, and then I convinced James and Nate to join me.  At the beginning, Nate told me “It was the boringest movie ever.”  But by morning #2, he seemed relatively sucked into the premise. We’re not entirely sure if he’s actually experienced déjà vu, or is just pretending to fit in.

I didn’t remember that there was so much smooching, but Nate was stricken with a need to cover his eyes and writhe around like he was being electrocuted when Phil’s lips touched Rita’s.  So dis-cuss-ting.

Turns out the curse was finally broken when Phil became the person he needed to be.  When he was generous and kind and gave to others, rather than being a smarmy cynic that only cared about himself.  He finally stopped trying to use the situation to trick women and rob banks for his own personal gain.  When he embraced Punxsutawney and his situation, becoming the best version of himself, he woke-up on February third.

It may be a bit philosophical for a Mommy blog, but Groundhog Day might just be a metaphor for the current coronavirus perpetual lockdown. Resist and rebel and remain in recessionary, retail purgatory.  Think of others.  Embrace the home life.  And sooner, rather than later, the lockdown will be lifted.

Hey Nate, “Have you ever experienced déjà vu?”

“Yep.  Nope.  Nope.  Yep.”