Lice lessons

You know what sounds pretty great right now? A good, old-fashioned case of head lice. Lice used to be one of the things that I dreaded the most. Getting a letter from the school saying a case of head lice had been discovered in one of my kids’ classrooms would send me into a spiral of worry and head-checking that lasted for weeks. 

But oh, to go back to the days when the biggest bogeyman I could imagine was a tiny bug that makes you a little itchy…not to mention that, with some diligence, it could be eradicated from your life within the course of a weekend—well, that sounds pretty darn great right now.

Instead, we are all in various stages of lock-down, shut-down, and trying-to-calm-down, facing a threat that is both impossible to see and potentially catastrophic in its impact. No one knows when or how it will end, because this is uncharted territory. It’s scary stuff, to be sure. 

But back to the lice: one of my daughters got lice two separate times when she was younger. The first time, I thought the world was ending. I read anything I could find about eradicating lice and was horrified to learn that failing to find even ONE TINY NIT could lead to a whole new outbreak. I washed hordes of clothes, bagged up stuffed animals, sprayed down furniture, and vacuumed every surface. I worried constantly. I slept poorly. I checked everyone’s hair multiple times each day. I think I even Googled, “Is lice the end of the world?”, because with the amount of disruption and worry it was causing me, it certainly felt like it was.

And then, less than a year later, she got it again. 

“Are you kidding me?!?!” I surely screamed after the letter came home and the lice was discovered. But by then, I didn’t have it in me to go full-on ballistic like I had the previous time. I still diligently treated her hair, washed her belongings and bagged up a few things. But then I let it be. 

“Lice is not fatal,” I remember thinking. “I’m just going to do what I can do and go from there.” In the end, my less-drastic attempt worked just as well as my freak-out attempt from earlier in the year. The only difference was in the level of crazy I allowed myself to reach.

On a much more serious scale, I feel like the world is in a similar first-lice scenario right now. Everyone is freaking out. Shelves are bare. Stores are shut down. I’m homeschooling, for heaven’s sake. Things are looking dire.

But it’s not the end of the world. This too shall pass. 

For those health care professionals and others throughout our community who are working tirelessly to keep as much running as possible, thank you a million times over. For those who are ill or suffering, my heart aches for you. 

For the rest of us who are in essence sheltering in place, let’s alter our perspectives and take this shut down as the gift that it is.

For me, I have the chance to have my kids home, with almost nothing pulling them in different directions. Even in the summertime, there are friends, camps, and a million other activities that we’re all splintering off to. But now they’re home, and there are hours and hours of time to fill. 

I’m sure there will be days where I’m pulling my hair out and begging for mercy. But I’m also looking forward to days filled with afternoon movies in the basement; watching my husband build a tree fort in the backyard with our little boys; and teaching my kids skills I’ve always wanted to teach them, but could never find the time, patience or energy to squeeze in.  

These are difficult days, but they could be some of the greatest we spend together as a family. Likewise, they could be some of the most meaningful we experience as a community and nation. 

One of my favorite poems includes these words: “‘Tis better far for us to strive, our useless cares from us to drive.” What “useless cares” will be sloughed away by the time this pandemic is over? What a gift to find out.