My kids are going to remember this as the era of the oatmeal packets. While assessing our food situation earlier this week, I remembered a basket of instant oatmeal packets that had been sitting in one of our camp buildings for months. I’d bought them for guests to have as a continental breakfast type of amenity. I sent one of the kids to fetch the basket and bring it home.
When my husband went to Menards this week I asked if he could bring home a few boxes of oatmeal packets if they had some. They did. During his trip to Sam’s yesterday, one of the things on the grocery list was four large boxes of oatmeal packets. He was only able to come home with one because they’ve put purchasing limits on most things for right now. That’s alright.
The four youngest kids have been having one per day, and then I let them sprinkle some regular oatmeal into their bowl since an oatmeal pack doesn’t lend itself to much substance. This isn’t the most cost-effective way of doing things by far, but it seems like a little routine that we’ve started, something comforting and regular in these currently uncertain times.
Other than the general heightened sense of unknowingness, we’re doing well. It makes me nervous when my husband has to go out for something, which yesterday was a lot due to a grocery store run and several random errands that needed running. Yesterday the governor issued a shelter-in-place edict for the state of Illinois until April 7th, so we continue to wait.
We’re going to have clean-up time this morning. It’s the ongoing cycle of home-life to make-a-mess, clean-it-up, make-a-mess, clean-it-up. The clean-it-up, naturally, always feels so much harder. You can dwell upon the past or even dream about the future, but the present often seems the hardest moment to live in. Oatmeal packets become then those small, simple joys.