Read on Twitter
Sweatpants, Day 6
The hardest days are when it rains. 
Day 8, 8 a.m.
Our daily Frozen 2 karaoke session begins. #LostInTheWoods
Our daily Frozen 2 karaoke session begins. #LostInTheWoods
Day 10.
Three year old refuses to wash hands after playing outside. Why? “Because the virus is never going away.”
Six year old, told that he cannot watch any more TV right now, demands his own TV in his room.
Three year old refuses to wash hands after playing outside. Why? “Because the virus is never going away.”
Six year old, told that he cannot watch any more TV right now, demands his own TV in his room.
Marooned at home, Day 11.
How does the coronavirus feel about snow?
How does the coronavirus feel about snow?
Home schooling is...messy.
Day 
, 1pm.
Family still in pajamas.
Doesn’t feel like Friday.
Ambulance sirens.
We are healthy.
, 1pm. Family still in pajamas.
Doesn’t feel like Friday.
Ambulance sirens.
We are healthy.
Day 16.
Cold and rainy. Can’t leave house.
3-year-old learning to fly.
Cold and rainy. Can’t leave house.
3-year-old learning to fly.
In the past 18 days, I have:
— not worn a belt or watch.
— not tucked in my shirt.
— synced my eating schedule with my children, including 5:30pm dinner and constant snacking.
— showered maybe 12 times.
— not worn a belt or watch.
— not tucked in my shirt.
— synced my eating schedule with my children, including 5:30pm dinner and constant snacking.
— showered maybe 12 times.
“OK, everyone, be calm,” my wife just told me and the children, as we lost internet service, again.
My almost-4-year-old has started calling it The Sickness.
Day 23
My child: It feels like we’re on vacation.
My wife: Why?
My child: Because you just sit around drinking.
My child: It feels like we’re on vacation.
My wife: Why?
My child: Because you just sit around drinking.
Day 28
Everyone’s nerves are fraying.
I experience it with my colleagues. I see it on twitter. I live it with my family. I feel it in myself.
Too much anger. I’m trying to slow down, to take deep breaths. It doesn’t always work.
But this will pass.
Everyone’s nerves are fraying.
I experience it with my colleagues. I see it on twitter. I live it with my family. I feel it in myself.
Too much anger. I’m trying to slow down, to take deep breaths. It doesn’t always work.
But this will pass.
Achievement unlocked: Four straight weeks in sweatpants. 
My mother sent me a homemade mask. 
There were so many sirens. First a fire engine, then another. A pair of ambulances. Then two more emergency vehicles.
I figured it was...you know.
Turned out the fire dept was going to the homes of kids with birthdays, bringing a little joy since they can’t have parties.
I figured it was...you know.
Turned out the fire dept was going to the homes of kids with birthdays, bringing a little joy since they can’t have parties.
I’m giving a video talk about Dark Towers this afternoon. Which means that for the first time in 33 days, I’m wearing a collared shirt. My sweatpants streak remains intact.
One of the great pleasures of quarantine (Day 36!) is being isolated with my wonderful small children and having the time to teach them to bake sourdough from scratch.
(I’m lying. We’re all driving each other crazy and the loaf came from the grocery store.)
(I’m lying. We’re all driving each other crazy and the loaf came from the grocery store.)
My kids get tons of screen time these days.
On this rare occasion, it yielded beauty. (My 6-year-old somehow made this on an iPhone.)
On this rare occasion, it yielded beauty. (My 6-year-old somehow made this on an iPhone.)
Day 41
Wife and kids have resorted to daily scream-along sessions to work out some of their frustration. Listen: there’s something kind of melodic about it.
Wife and kids have resorted to daily scream-along sessions to work out some of their frustration. Listen: there’s something kind of melodic about it.
Day 44.
Never have I ever been so relieved to have some warm, sunny weather. We needed this.
Never have I ever been so relieved to have some warm, sunny weather. We needed this.
Sweatpants, Week 7.
Got an email from @ConEdison alerting us that, for some mysterious reason, our home energy usage seems to have gone way up. Can't imagine why.
Day 47, 7:30am.
6-year-old emerges from his bedroom.
Me: How did you sleep?
Boy: I had a wonderful dream.
Me: What was it?
Boy, with big smile: The virus went away, and I went back to school.
6-year-old emerges from his bedroom.
Me: How did you sleep?
Boy: I had a wonderful dream.
Me: What was it?
Boy, with big smile: The virus went away, and I went back to school.
On the 55th day, we discovered the awesome power of Nutella to pacify angry children.
Day 58. Almost-four-year-old has perfected a new catch phrase, which he deploys regularly, with fierce scowl, at parents and brother:
“Shut up, you idiot.”
“Shut up, you idiot.”
A tiny bit of good news to start Day 60. Yesterday evening, my boys discovered this tiny baby deer — alone, scared and shivering — in a field across the street from our house.
This morning we saw it reunited with its mother.
This morning we saw it reunited with its mother.
Every Monday, my son's kindergarten class shares (via Zoom) what everyone did this weekend. Today I heard:
"socially distanced picnic"
"walked in the woods but it was too crowded"
"wore masks"
"stayed home"
They're saying these phrases like they're normal.
"socially distanced picnic"
"walked in the woods but it was too crowded"
"wore masks"
"stayed home"
They're saying these phrases like they're normal.
Day 67. Mother and baby deer still doing well.
On the 68th day, my MacBook Pro's awful butterfly keyboard – already repaired once – lost the ability to type an N without me holding down the key. Superb timing. Thank you @Apple!
Looking back at my [privileged] pre-virus life – the freedom of escaping to work, of seeing friends, of going out – reminds me of the nostalgia I sometimes feel for life before having kids.
I didn't realize how good I had it, how easy things were, until everything changed.
I didn't realize how good I had it, how easy things were, until everything changed.
