Sometime in the not-too-distant future we will look in the rearview mirror and instead of responding that the “shit hit the fan”, the popular phrase will be “things went 2020.” For me, the coronavirus craziness began in early March when the universities attended by my three children instructed them to move out immediately, even though they intended to continue to charge full tuition. Graciously, one university offered a solution; in light of low interest rates, parents should consider purchasing a home for their college students for the upcoming year. Suddenly, my house was full, but at least my children aren’t infants and are relatively self-sufficient. Translation – give them money for Grubhub and Amazon and they will feed and entertain themselves. As the dominos fell and schools continued to close, I recall the wave of panic I felt for working parents with young children.

I recently FaceTimed with Tara Stephens, an executive with Saatchi & Saatchi who has two adorable girls, Lillian (11 yrs old) and Fiona (8 yrs old). After 120 days and counting of self-isolation, they are desperately missing their extended family and friends. Finding humor in the small moments has helped Tara to stay sane and embrace life’s changes. The changes have been significant; requiring her to manage a trifecta of home, work, and school responsibilities, and turning her into a jack-of-all-trades. Instantly, she became a mediator who fields complaints from bickering children, a psychic who uses clairvoyance to find items like toilet paper, a physician who disinfects bodies and groceries, and an event planner who creates summer activities without camps, playdates, or vacations.

A CHEF

Days before the US declared a national emergency, Tara gave away most of her food and paper products in preparation for the termite tenting of her home. She realized her poor timing during her first visit to the grocery store. As a result of the empty aisles, she filled her shopping basket with a variety of unfamiliar food items. She then used these basket ingredients to concoct innovative meals much as if she were a contestant on the Food Network TV show ‘Chopped.’ She still awaits the $10,000 prize money. 

A difficult part of being a coronavirus chef is ‘snack stress’ –  the resulting stress from food and snack overload during self isolation. Along with meal preparation, she and the girls bake constantly for Zoom tea parties, patio picnics, school projects, and virtual field trips. This nonstop eating has made Tara fearful of gaining the dreaded ‘Corona 15,’ however, comfort eating may be just what the doctor orders right now.

TEACHER  

With 5 days notice, Tara’s family was thrown into the virtual learning technology fire: navigating ridiculous apps like Class DOJO, links, passcodes, Chromebooks, mute buttons,  and schedules. Each morning, Tara set up the girls’ work stations at the dining room table. Towels and sheets became part of the home decor as they covered the furniture and floor to catch slime, play dough, paint, and other remnants from the girls’ many activities. Technology snafus and “help momma” cries created a constant reminder of their self-isolation. One incident occurred when the music suddenly quit during Fiona’s school Zoom talent show. Tara unintentionally appeared on the screen, causing Fiona to have a mini breakdown. Apparently, there is nothing more embarrassing for an 8 yr old than when her peers discover she lives at home with her mother.

CEO (CHIEF EVERYTHING OFFICER)

It became immediately clear during the pandemic that all boundaries between work and life had disappeared. Inexplicably, Tara’s shower time triggered an automatic invitation for colleagues to request impromptu Zoom meetings. Even the girls noted the work-life imbalance by observing that “Momma is lucky, she gets to talk to her ‘friends’ all day and night.” 

In one memorable group video call, her bosses’ son cruised through the room with his underwear on his head. Tara left another meeting in a sudden panic of “COVID-19 stranger danger,” when she received notification that an unknown person had logged into her daughter’s Zoom playdate. On another video call, Tara wore a bandana, not as a mask, but as an eye cover. It remains a mystery how she caught Pinkeye while quarantined in a disinfected house, but everything seems out of the ordinary these days.

CUSTODIAN

Tara hated the four hour online school day until of course, the school year ended, and the real domestic chaos began. Piles of dresses, toys, blanket forts, and barbies are strewn throughout the house, making everyday an energy-draining roller coaster ride. A Japanese theme park recently told its guests “not to scream on the coasters to minimize the spread of droplets and instead, scream inside your heart.” Tara has taken their advice and is screaming…inside her heart.

DOG MOMMA

After the sad death of Hermie, the Hermit Crab, Lillian declared through a sea of tears that she “didn’t want anymore cold blooded pets, she wanted a puppy.” Tara hates dogs. Not only that, but when she purchased her home, she traded a yard for proximity to the beach. In a million years, she could never have imagined the present situation of home quarantining. Desperate times calls for desperate measures – the puppy arrives in 2 weeks.

CORONAVIRUS CASTAWAY

Overnight, Tara became a super mom; balancing the demands of homeschooling, working remotely, and caring for her family. She compares her pandemic adventure to that of Tom Hanks in Cast Away, who survives on a desert island accompanied only by his handmade volleyball friend, Wilson. She speaks for all working parents of young children who are desperate to return to civilization and put an end to their ordeals. All they ask is for everyone to please wear a mask to help them get off their islands.