A group of my college friends have arranged regular Zoom meetings. It’s helping us see ourselves through a mix of situations. Maternity leave, a sick parent, business owner woes, homeschooling, work/home balance, and also the recent news for one of us: No school for the remainder of the school year. Eek.

Some of us feel the flashback of being home with a new baby. You are expected not to really go anywhere and one day blends in to another. A shower feels like an achievement. A walk feels like the ultimate liberation.

But with none of the new baby oxytocin coming in, this lands a little different. This has the feel of a college Saturday (everyone is in their jammies watching TV for too long and no one in showering until they have to be seen in public), the brink of some weather-related disaster (you are constantly checking in on family and friends to see how they are affected), and a rainy summer vacation ruined-ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

But tonight I passed up the Zoom and asked if we could postpone it (Everyone’s calendar free? Yeah? Oh good.). I am usually the social director, the planner, the organizer. But I was in a wretched mood and just wanted to sit on the couch and read my book. Again.

Marriage, parenting, friendship, sibling-hood, caregiving. All of it seems like it’s under this huge microscope right now. We Zoom, we FaceTime, we talk, text, post, and like each other’s hopes thoughts, and dreams—digitally.

FOMO is no longer a thing because, you know, we are all doing nothing. But even doing nothing has a hierarchy. Some people make beautiful rainbow sculptures and hang them outside their homes, some are now gourmet cooks, some are working out incessantly, some have become Tik Tok aficionados (guilty) or expert home renovators (not guilty). But, don’t get it twisted: No one is good at this. Not a single one of us.

But while we might not be good at it, the joke is on us at the same time. Because, little by little, layer by layer, it’s making us better and giving us time we didn’t even know we’ve been searching for. All the things we knew we needed but never thought we could have: time to relax and be silly, have better communication (because well, we are around each other all dang day, we should probably talk). Time to slow down. We can finally stop saying, “This week is going to be so busy,” over and over and over again.

Relationships feel simple all of a sudden. Support each other, check on each other, send each other funny Tiger King memes and good online deals to spread the wealth. Tell funny stories. Drop thoughtful items on each other’s doorsteps or pull into the driveway for a sidewalk-to-car-door-chat.

Communication doesn’t get rushed or messed up or forgotten (“I thought I told you my appointment was today and I couldn’t get the kids?”) We have nothing but food, work, house chores, schoolwork, Netflix, and Zoom appointments.

But, simple doesn’t mean easy. We are used to a rhythm that’s no longer there. But, I don’t know about you- this new rhythm can be nice. I’m more relaxed most days, clear(ish) headed, and nothing is rushed. It makes me think of something someone said right before I had Parker, my first. “Your only job when that baby comes is just to sit at home and love that baby.” It was so bizarre to me to reduce what I thought was going to be the most profound change in my life to “just” sitting home and loving another person. But now those words seem wise.

It was Mother Theresa who said it best, “If you want to change the world, go home and love your family.” And love the mess, the chaos, the too many board games, the I-can’t-plan-another-frigging-meal, and know that there is no award for best pandemic pantry or most artful rainbow bedazzle. There’s only page of your family’s history where you can say, “We slowed down, we loved each other, we had fun, and we made it through.”