We got the call Friday—schools in our county would be closing until April 20th. More than a month away. The mad scramble began for all our families. Granted, since I work at home anyway, I was in a better position to handle my child’s sudden homebound state than many. And I give many kudos to the teachers and administration of our particular school who made this transition appear almost flawless. The children have work to do online and/or at home, and the children who relied on free or reduced meals are still getting fed. I cannot thank our school’s staff enough for everything they have done in this trying time.

Let me just say that I am not cut out to be a teacher. There is a reason I never homeschooled. However, we are beginning to adjust to the new reality. We have to do it quietly, though, as my husband is also suddenly working from home and is often on teleconferences.

This is a very strange existence, hiding from a germ. When your enemy is invisible and indiscriminant, it is very hard to combat. It puts us into a war-time mentality, and an odd dichotomy where our neighbors are simultaneously our allies and enemies. We are all in this together, helping each other out, but at the same time any person can be carrying the virus and not be aware.

I went grocery shopping today. I think I now understand what cavemen felt when they went hunting. Danger everywhere. The unknown around every corner. I have never been so stressed getting milk. Stayed as far from other shoppers as possible. Luckily, it was not crowded. Some shelves were pretty empty (mostly the meats and Club Size items), but I got everything I needed, and hopefully I can stay home the next 2 weeks. I got home and felt like I had bugs crawling all over me, even after I scrubbed my hands.

Uncertainty is a killer for me—for most people, really. We as a species do not handle the unknown well at all. I have an anxiety disorder, and the uncertainty has inflamed it greatly. I have parents who are in the high-risk age group, and I cannot be with them through this, as we live in different states. My child and husband are home all day, and although we are forming a routine, it is not there yet. And every time one of us ventures out into a public space (like the store), the 14-day waiting period resets.

I am trying to reign in my anxiety and carry on. I get outside (not public places, just outdoors) every day it’s not raining, usually with my daughter because she needs to get out of the house, too. I try not to stress-eat, but that’s hard. I stay in touch with my family and friends so we can help each other through this. But the fear still nibbles at the edges all the time, laying heavy on my heart.

The only time it lifts is at night, when I cuddle up with my daughter while she falls asleep. In that moment, she is safe, I am safe, we are safe. I listen to her breathe, as I used to when she was an infant, a lullaby that calms every mother’s heart.

Find your peace. Stay safe. Be well.