How a Long Island mom with coronavirus is parenting while quarantined

Diana Berrent has been trying to navigate her recovery from the coronavirus — all while quarantined at her Port Washington, New York, home in a separate room from her two school-age children. She describes what parenting has been like since she came down last week with the dangerous bug.

You never think you will be the first person in your town to get the Plague. But life comes at you fast sometimes, and I was among the first in my area to contract COVID-19. I’ve been in isolation in my room for eight days already, and I have another ten to go. I’m a mom of two kids, 11 and 13, and I hear, through the grapevine, that they’re doing fine.

I watched you all report online about scrambling to find the last rolls of toilet paper, stocking up your pantries and trading tales of purchasing calorically indulgent treats because there’s no excuse for carbs like a pandemic, right? I meant to do that shopping. It was honestly the next thing on my to-do list (right after I bought stock in Zoom – somehow I still found time to do that amid all the hysteria). But I never made it to the market. I got felled by the virus too soon. A kind neighbor brought over a lasagna early in the week. Is that what my family has been eating all week? I have no idea. Do we have any food left? Again, I’m clueless. I guess I could have asked at some point but I’ve been a little preoccupied with fever, coughing, sleeping and trying to get tested for the virus. And my husband is there with them and I highly doubt he would let them starve. Even if they are living on Fruit Loops.

I can’t stop thinking about the story about Jared Leto meditating in the desert only to emerge back into our new pandemic-stricken world. I feel about as disconnected from my family as he was from our new apocalyptic landscape. Will they look different when I come out? Will they be taller? I can only imagine what my 11-year-old son will smell like.

I then watched you all eat all your pandemic indulgences in one weekend, which seemed gross, but then again, I was feeling terribly ill and couldn’t eat a thing. I’m sure I would have been there with the rest of you under better circumstances.

Then Monday came and every woman I know suddenly turned into Mary Poppins. You were all making color coded schedules with time for things like family meditation, recycling and cuddling. I have no idea if my kids even showered this week. Yes, we’re living in the same house. But being in isolation means not leaving the four corners of my bedroom, while my husband and kids are quarantined in the remainder of the house.

I think it’s so cool that your seven-year-old made beef bourguignon for dinner for the entire family tonight (yay! Life skills!) When they are finished, do you think you would mind asking them to send my kids a Zoom conference invite and maybe teach them how to boil water? Or maybe my kids did end up learning how to boil water this week, I have no idea. I have no idea what their schedule is or how they are spending their time. I check in from time to time via phone and text but, remember, they are 11 and 13 and the phone is something used only to call Grandma.

We have had no beautiful hikes, family monopoly games or movie nights (that I know of). Neither of my children made a color-coded pandemic bucket list with all the new skills they wanted to develop during these endless weeks (months???). I seriously doubt either sent a card to an elderly neighbor or have been spending their free time trying to fashion safety masks for emergency workers out of office supplies. Not that I didn’t wish that they did, but they are 11 and 13. And they love video games, Tik Tok and Facetiming with their friends. I can hardly control things when I’m running the house. You really have to learn to take a back seat when you’re in isolation!

My daughter is apparently busy with schoolwork and I’ve forwarded her any emails I’ve received from her teachers about how to log on where and when but that’s it. She’s on her own otherwise. My son has apparently been working on his card shuffling skills (See! Skills!) And my husband, as wonderful as he is, was fired as a waiter when he was young and now I know why. I ask for a banana – three hours later a yogurt shows up, that expired last month. He’s a great guy. But waitering isn’t his thing.

I’m kind of getting used to this non-routine, here on my own. Maybe, now that I’m on the mend, I’m living out every woman’s actual fantasy. Just to be in your room, left alone. I feel like the Virginia Wolf of the Corona era. And the kids? They’ll be alright.