The COVID-19 Situation is Definitely a Lemons-Lemonade Situation

© 2020 Dr. Ben Garber


 

 This is definitely a lemons-lemonade situation. You know the saying: “If the world gives you lemons….”

I’d be glad to fill your head with silver-lining ideas about how a virus spreading across the globe is killing hundreds of thousands, destroying economies, forcing incalculable debt upon our children and their children, fueling racism, and locking down borders is a good opportunity for family time. Or how shelter-in-place means much less driving which benefits the environment. Or I could tell you endless stories of neighborly kindness in the midst of biological terror.

I’d be just as happy joking about the new normal. How agoraphobia, generalized anxiety disorder, and obsessive compulsive disorder are suddenly signs of good health and adaptive functioning. How social anxiety has been abruptly institutionalized, and how a certain degree of paranoia is necessary in the age of COVID-19. The unemployment rate may reach forty percent in the U.S., but at least the psychiatrists tasked with writing the next Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM) have a lot of work ahead. 

We could talk about fashion: Do your Nitrile or Latex gloves complement your outfit? Is it okay to wear a white N-95 mask after Labor Day? Is the person at the other end of your next Zoom conference wearing pants (and do you really want to know)? 


But let’s not talk about those things.
Let’s talk about your kids.

By now you’ve read all the popular wisdom about pandemic parenting. Schools are shut down. Lessons are online. Clubs and teams and activities are cancelled. You probably know everything you need to know about the importance of routine and structure. You don’t need me to remind you -yet again- that we all need a schedule. That in this terribly anxiety-inducing time, knowing that A still comes before B which still comes before C, knowing when bedtime is and that chores still matter, and that we all still eat supper together reduces your kids’ anxiety. 

You know, of course, that your anxiety trickles down to the kids whose anxiety -voiced as irritable, aggressive, withdrawn, regressed, needy, limit-testing, whiny behavior- will only fuel your anxiety in an endless loop of crazy-making. 

You know not to lie to your kids. That includes making promises that you can’t fulfill. You can and must say, “I’ll always love you.” You cannot and must not say, “I’ll always be there for you.” Sorry. Argue as long as you like. That’s simply not a promise you can keep. 

You’re also learning very quickly -if you hadn’t already mastered the skill- to balance how much information the kids can have. Keeping information from them is not lying. Its protecting. A constant background blur of news does nothing but set everyone on edge. Do you really need to know the moment that the stock market crashes, or can you wait to hear the gory details and mourn the loss of your retirement funds until after the kids are in bed? I don’t need to tell you that every child has a different anxiety threshold. Because you’re a very sensitive and responsive parent, you know how much news your kids should hear, you’re careful what sources they have access to, you answer their questions at their level, and you’re there to comfort and reassure them whenever they need. 

And of course by now -almost a full month into what is likely to be at least a six month siege- you’ve mastered the art of COVID co-parenting. If you and the kids’ other parent(s) share a home, you’re talking together about how the kids are coping and what they need often. If you live apart, you’re emailing or text messaging or using an online platform like OurFamilyWizard.com to keep one another current. Because the kids’ needs always come first (not to be confused with their wishes and wants), keeping the kids healthy always trumps the logistics of the parenting plan and your own selfish needs and wishes.

But for all of your smarts and hard-won wisdom living in plague-like conditions, no matter how many rolls of toilet paper you’ve stashed away in the basement, no matter how much peanut butter you’ve hoarded, no matter how many apps you’ve downloaded, and no matter how many video streaming services you’ve subscribed to, I’ll bet that you’ve forgotten the terrific value of a nice, big corrugated cardboard box.

That’s right. I could take this space to write about online schooling or anxiety management or hopes for a vaccine, but I won’t. Instead, I want you to (safely, legally) go find a large, clean box. Dishwasher size is good. Refrigerator size is better. 

Being quarantined together tests boundaries. Everyone is in everyone’s space. A large cardboard box can become a young child’s castle or clubhouse or fortress. Make a craft of cutting doors and windows (cut three sides and flex the fourth so that the door or window can hinge open and closed). Paint and color and decorate inside and out. Let them retreat there to calm and settle and feel safe. 

Cut the same box differently and make a bed tent for an older child to help her sleep. A private space over her mattress that can be decorated with stars and moons cut out of the ceiling. Reassuring images and ideas taped and drawn on the inside.

Use the right size box differently to make a study carrel that creates some privacy and minimizes distractions around the computer monitor, keyboard and mouse. Tape schedules and assignments, successes and goals on the inside. Personalize the outside so that each child has his or her own study space. 

Unfold a refrigerator box and draw a picnic or a beach or a ballpark scene. Lay it out on top of the carpet and make a big deal about having dinner there. Lean the same image against the wall as a backdrop and make a movie using your phone. Or better yet, find several large boxes. Tape them together end-to-end. Cut doors from one to the next and make a tunnel or an obstacle course. 

Lemonade? Maybe not. Certainly not a cure for Coronavirus, but maybe a band aid to help get you and the family through a couple more days. Then, someday in the unknown future, you can all look back through the horror that is reshaping our world and remember how cozy that cardboard castle once felt, and how much you laughed lost in a corrugated maze. 

Stay healthy, my friends. Make careful choices. Be patient and be kind to one another.


Parenting pointer
Cardboard boxes are really just a metaphor for creating and maintaining healthy boundaries. Its easy on lock-down to bump into one another.

To give in when the kids ask to sleep with you and to forget that the healthy path toward autonomy requires that everyone agrees when doors should be open and when doors should be closed. Even if you can’t find an empty dishwasher box (there probably aren’t a lot of large appliances being sold at the moment), you can create healthy boundaries within your home with duct tape lines on the floor or hanging bedsheets as curtains or making dinner table placemats. The idea is to help your kids feel like they have a clearly defined space in the physical environment and, ideally, a place that’s all theirs to retreat to when they get overwhelmed.

And what about your need to hide in a box of your own? Go for it. But tell everyone that you need some space. Make sure everyone’s safe. Let them know when to expect you to re-emerge. Then go enjoy some quiet for yourself. 

 
 

 

Benjamin Garber, PHD, author of Holding Tight/Letting GoRoadmap to the Parenting Plan Worksheet and other titles, is a licensed psychologist, a former Guardian ad litem and a Parenting Coordinator. He is a nationally renowned speaker, researcher and an award-winning freelance journalist, and speaks in the U.S. and abroad on family law and healthy coparenting. Ben Garber is the author of numerous articles and several books, including:

 

Previous
Previous

Self-Care is Key When Managing Anxiety in the Family

Next
Next

How Did This Happen to Me?