There's No Joy in Pandemic Life, But There Is a Rainbow Owl
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One night recently during the stuffed animal puppet show my 6-year-old makes me do with him at bedtime several nights a week, I created a back story for one of his main stuffies — Rainbow Owl.
My son asked me to do a monologue with Rainbow Owl because that was the only way he would be able to fall asleep, obviously. That might sound like an unlikely request, but I’ve heard much more unlikely ones from him so I just went with it.
I put my classic Rainbow Owl voice on and I made the owl say that he used to be a snowy white owl, but he flew through a rainbow and it changed his color. In fact, that’s why the fur around his face was still white.
The owl explained that it was now “business in the front,” and then he turned around, shook his tail feathers and said, “and party in the back!”
My 6-year-old cracked up and his laugh is so infectious, so did I. The monologue was such a big hit, he made me repeat it again the next night. And when I got to the big finish, I could barely get the closing line out before we both started cracking up again.
Later when I was thinking about that moment, I realized it was the first time I’d had a real, uncontrolled laugh in a long time. How long had it been? Weeks? A month, maybe? It was one of the few snippets of pure joy without any nagging worry I’d felt in I don’t know how long.
There’s a lot going on right now with a pandemic still raging and the kids starting back to online school. Between those two things and the constant worry about whether civilization will survive this year, there is more than enough to be concerned about inside and outside my home.
And while I do enjoy a lot of the fun parts of having the kids at home all the time — like hearing the funny things their classmates say during class — it feels like either my work or their school always requires my attention. Even during fun moments, it’s easy to feel like I’m checking another item off a list rather than actually appreciating what’s taking place.
A first grader who now lives in one of our laptops raises his hand at the beginning of class and reports how many days it’s been since he lost his tooth. Another first grader follows up by letting the teacher know how many teeth she has lost. The same sequence of reports repeats at the beginning of class every day for several days.
“Adorable,” I think. “I should make a mental note of that because I will want to remember this one day in the future that may or may not exist.”
Check. Task completed.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not miserable. I love having lots to do and I certainly do have lots to do right now. From setting up and logging into computers to keeping track of school schedules for a first and third grader that never seem to line up to keeping a four-year-old out of the background of the school video calls, it’s more than a full-time job. And that’s on top of all the normal stuff.
I like being in the middle of everything. I like hearing the voices of the teachers and other students. And most of all, I like having my kids close to me where I know they’re safe.
Yes, there are many things about this mess that make me feel good and fulfilled, but pure joy still remains elusive. Not that I’m asking for it. I’m grateful to be getting by.
And until the regular kind of joy returns, I can always count on Rainbow Owl. Because when we need a laugh, he’ll be there to provide one. All we have to do is tell him to shelve the business in the front and unleash the party in the back.
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