Ripples in time

A few weeks ago I discussed how our perception of time has been altered by the shelter-in-place policies introduced as a consequence of the COVID-19 pandemic, but never got to discuss the direct effects that it is having on us as a family. Yesterday, after almost a year to the day, we had what possibly was the first case of lock-down-induced breakdown. Having finished their homework quickly after lunch, Trevor and Jason had spent most of the afternoon playing on the computers, sometimes together, sometimes separate, but the adrenaline levels had kept rising until Jason was so excited that he could not avoid snapping back at his teammates over their voice system (I think it is Discord, but I am not sure). Karen, who had been enduring the constant rumble with commendable patience, regardless of how unsettling it is to her, finally went into the office and told him to stop playing and find an alternative way of entertaining himself that would not imply shouting and grumbling.

But then Jason, in a textbook example of fundamental attribution error, started to make excuses on how incompetent his teammates were, how the wireless was constantly breaking down and how Trevor's repeated exclamations, both of joy and anger, did not let him think with clarity. The verbal jousting ended with a very upset mother and two kids being sent upstairs, grounded for a week without computer games.

Photo: Gerd Altmann on Pixabay

Soon after Jason came down soon after asking for clemency on Trevor, who had had nothing with his breakdown and therefore should not be punished along, but Karen pointed out that they both had been quite annoying all afternoon, so the grounding was well-deserved for both. Some time later, he approached me to explain that he did not know why he had replied like that to his mother, that it was not like him but somehow the accumulated frustration had gotten the best of him. He pointed out that he felt like Bill Murry in the 1993 movie Groundhog Day, who wakes up every day to find that it is the same day over and over. For Jason, every day also follows the same cadence of waking up, attending homeschooling video conferences, doing the homework, playing, and then going back to bed. Precisely the same kind of flat repetition that I mentioned last time.

To try to introduce some longer-scale entertainment, we have recovered the old habit of making jigsaw puzzles. Even if it looks like a useless enterprise, it helps develop concentration and spatial capabilities, and it provides the additional benefit of working together, which is always satisfying. Besides, the fact that it normally takes several days to put together a 1000-piece jigsaw, and that we do not work on it every day, it helps breaking the routine by introducing different cadences, something like creating ripples in the flat surface of time.

We also had an unusually fun moment this morning when Trevor asked for help with a biology experiment: They were asked to measure the vital capacity of his lungs by blowing into a measuring glass inverted over a big container of water. This experiment, which is trivial with the right equipment, is not easy to do at home. After scratching our heads for a while we landed on the big containers of distilled water, which should be enough to accommodate a volume between 3 and 4 liters. Turning the big bottle upside down over the sink required some amount of muscular effort, plus then we had to weigh the water remaining in the container after the expiration, but all in all it was big fun.

Hopefully now that the vaccines are being rolled out the situation will not extend much longer and soon we will be able to have the season not just changing in front of our windows but as the backdrop of our daily activities again. In the meantime, do not pass on the occasion of doing things out of the ordinary and try to give each day a sense of uniqueness. Enjoy the evening.