It’s Mother’s Day. I’m assuming I didn’t just pee in your Cheerios with that reminder, and you knew it was Mother’s Day before I said it. But it’s not actually a given this year. I’ve missed the onslaught of Mother’s Day signs because I haven’t been out in months. And while there may have been Mother’s Day messages on social media, I’ve missed them because everything is pandemic, 24/7.

A silver lining?

So it’s usually an odd day that I have a lot of feelings about, but this year, it fell under the pandemic shadow, which swallows everything in its path leaving behind only the main mental event: Covid-19.

I usually spend the day with my mum, but we can’t do that. At least, not in the traditional sense. We are dropping off dinner at my parent’s house, so I’ll get to see them from afar. And THAT has been what has kept me going this week. I dropped off groceries at the beginning of the week, and usually I cry while I drive away because it is a very odd thing to have you parents talk to you from 18 feet away. But this time, when I got in the car, I thought to myself: “Oh! Mother’s Day! I’ll get to see them again very soon.”

It is so weird how this day that normally puts me in a blue mood was the one thing I looked forward to all week. The shadow of Covid-19 changes the colour of things for me, turning things that are usually happy shades (libraries!) into murky colours (the germs there!) and murky colours (Mother’s Day) into happy shades (a chance to peek at my parents from 18 feet away for a few minutes).

Even though I am so so so sad that I can’t hug them. Though I want to bring a sheet and do this.

Sending peace of heart to everyone who needs it today.

The twins’ final year of camp was canceled. They had been going to the same camp for nine years, and they were finally in the oldest group. So… no re-do possible. They’re taking it in stride; I mean, what is one more canceled event amid so many other cancellations?

School was canceled for the rest of the year. We expected it, but it was still strange to get the alert telling us that they’d be sheltering in place for the remainder of the spring. It’s unclear whether they’ll go back in the fall. Everything feels like a big unknown.

I’m in a numb stage this week. I’m reading all the announcements, but I’m not really emotionally processing them. It’s almost like I’m being told someone else’s dream. It’s interesting, but it’s not really mine, so I don’t really feel anything about it beyond a general sense of unease.

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Stop procrastinating. Go make your backups. Don’t have regrets.

Seriously. Stop what you’re doing for a moment. It will take you fifteen minutes, tops. But you will have peace of mind for days and days. It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments in order to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

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And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week. In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “COVID-19 Jubilee: Shame, Debt, and Mercy” (The Philosophy of Motherhood)
• “No Kidding 2020 Project: Day 12 – Accept” (No Kidding in NZ)

Okay, now my choices this week.

Dreaming of Diapers has a post about being the last one to be told about a pregnancy. She wasn’t expecting friends to be announcing their pregnancies in their 40s, but she had two who let her know recently. She writes, “The call was super uncomfortable. I mean, beyond. All of our other friends found out at 12 weeks… but me… the last one to know.” Everyone, do not do this, even if you think you’re being considerate of another person’s feelings. They’ll have to find out at some point. Better to know along with everyone else. Ugh.

Res Cogitatae has a post that pretty much sums up all of my feelings about food at the moment. I have never spent so much time worrying about ingredients, worrying about meal planning, stressing about cooking. She explains everything that is happening in their home: “The effort of making sure the right things are in the cart and the uncertainty of knowing what we’ll actually get when we go to pick up the groceries is producing stress for both of us.” I think many of us relate to this post.

The Road Less Travelled has a post about COVID-19 that is brilliant, summarizing the main things she wants to remember. I’m highlighting it here because everyone is going to want to steal her format. Especially the idea of revisiting the questions later to see how your thoughts change over time.

Lastly, I learned the word “sabai” from A Separate Life. She explains: “I have always enjoyed what the Danish call hygge – cosiness, comfort, content. It’s not unlike the Thai concept of sabai, though because of the different climate, sabai conjures less cosiness, but pleasure, a gentle cooling breeze, and a feeling of contentment or even bliss in a moment.” I love that she makes you think about your personal definition for hygge (or sabai). Mine definitely includes reading at the end of the day.

The roundup to the Roundup: Everything is canceled. Your weekly backup nudge. And lots of great posts to read. So what did you find this week? Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between May 1 – 8) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week? Read the original open thread post here.

Carolyn Hax had some advice a week or two ago that was like a light bulb going off in my brain. The situation didn’t apply to my life—woman navigating her parent’s messy divorce—but Hax’s advice technically applied to… everything.

You don’t need to use one of your behind-the-paywall articles on this because she summarizes the long post in a single sentence: “When things go wrong or disappoint you or stir up new stuff you didn’t expect: Trust yourself to find your way through it.”

So keep taking chance and walking forward knowing you will be able to navigate whatever you encounter.

Or, I’ll apply it to general life instead of Hax’s divorce situation:

Information you have now + trust that you’ll get through the unknown = how to navigate any situation.

That when you don’t take chances or move things forward, what you’re saying is that you don’t trust yourself. You don’t trust your ability to get yourself through the situation. Despite all proof you have to the contrary. The reality is that I’ve gotten through everything so far. It hasn’t always been pleasant, and I’ve certainly had to mourn along the way, but I’ve gotten to this point, so I need to trust that I’ll get to the next point.

And that applies to you, too.

People have been restarting their blogs. Or posting updates on Facebook with specific notes that they want to remember this experience. I’ve tried to record thoughts here or in my bullet journal as much as possible.

It’s a weird thing to want to remember; this time period ranges from boring to scary to sad. But forgetting feels equally terrible. I’m living it; I want to remember it.

Apparently, we probably won’t.

Or, I won’t. People who are at home won’t.

“For many of us—especially those isolating at home—memory researchers say it’s more likely it will become a blur … Those on the frontlines, like healthcare workers, will remember it differently. They’ll witness the toll on human life firsthand and emotions like grief, fear, and anxiety will heighten their memories.”

It’s harder to hold memories in the brain when every day blends. One part of the article states: “We’re likely to merge together many different memories—ending up with a generic sense of what it was like, and we may struggle to come up with specific event memories later on.”

Is it important to remember? I mean, it isn’t like remembering your hand being burned so you don’t touch the stove again. We’ll remember the big things, such as making sure we have certain items in the house “just in case” or giving each other physical space while out in public. We just may not remember all the individual moments that we’re talking about right now. We may not remember the individual press conferences, though I think I’ll always remember the way the local grocery store manager cheered us on every single morning via Facebook.

Though maybe not her individual posts.

Are you doing anything to try to hold on to the memories of this time period? Or are you letting them float past, knowing you’ll hold on to the general feeling if not the day-to-day memories?

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

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I’ve entered the “what will life be like after Covid-19” stage of isolation. I’m no longer checking the daily case trackers every hour. Instead, I’m seeking out articles that break down what may happen next. What does life look like after Covid-19?

And what do we mean by “after” if we can’t eradicate it or make a vaccine that always works?

The articles aren’t always cheerful: “When the coronavirus outbreak is under control, aversion to strangers or large groups, and the threat of infection they could pose, might echo in our minds for years.”

Like so many things, we won’t know until we know. Until we live it. But that doesn’t mean that people won’t try to think through what may happen next. And that’s where I am right now; devouring articles as they pop up in my feed, trying on the thoughts like clothing, seeing how they fit.

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Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts that are connected to businesses or are sponsored post.