A Life in a Day
Brooke Shields
Actress
When the Covid lockdown began, we left Manhattan and came out here to Southampton, my husband, two teenage daughters, dog and I – fully aware that this is a privileged exile, with comforts most people would envy.
For the first two months of social distancing I wore no make – up, showered when absolutely necessary, and found it an effort just to wash my hair. Sweatpants and leggings became my go-to choice of attire. But one day I woke up and decided that it was time to do some self-grooming and put some effort into my appearance. Lip balm, mascara, and a bit of strategic concealer make a world of difference.
Taking a bit of time each day to address simple grooming suddenly seems to be as important as learning how to make bread or anything edible for my family (my husband, luckily, is the chef in this family.) I must say that feeling more presentable, gives me a bit of pep in my step. It feels like one of the few ways that I can regain a modicum of control.
I have spent a good portion of my life obsessing over trying to be perfect and pleasing everyone else. Somewhere between raising children, maintaining a career, dealing with injuries and family issues, I lost my own voice. I know this sounds “cringey,” as my girls would say, but it’s a common predicament for women over 40.
So during this time of isolation, I decided to start my own website. I had been thinking about it for a long time – a site geared towards women over the age of 40. Now more than ever, I feel there is a need for safe places where all women can speak and be heard. Places both to educate and celebrate.
I called on a friend to help me start this new chapter, and after three months of discussions, we have assembled a scrappy but passionate, team… of three!
Lunch, used to be at noon, then 12:45 which slowly drifted to 2:00, sometimes 3:00 or honestly, I say “fuck it” and snack all day long. I snack on things like nuts and fruit and almond butter, yes, Pop Tarts, turkey and cheese with mustard, or country bread and tomato sandwiches.
By 3:00 the girls are done with virtual learning, a challenge that initially caused frustration and tears from all of us, but one we finally conquered with the installation of a new WIFI system. I feel like I put up a good fight to make sure they did their remote learning – although I recently read in the NYTimes article that online school was ineffectual – good to know.
At 6:00 I make a margarita and either go for a walk, work on a puzzle, or FaceTime a friend. By now, the kids are either doing homework, watching various shows on their devices, or taking showers. The house feels quiet.
My husband finishes his calls and whatever project he is currently writing and decides what we should eat for dinner. I am the assistant only.
We eat dinner at about 9:00 which makes me feel quite European. After dinner I force my family to play one game. It could be Dominoes, Taboo, Cards against Humanity, Backgammon…anything that keeps them all at the table.
Once playing, we all inevitably start laughing (usually at Mom’s expense) and temporarily forget how helpless we feel. The silver lining throughout this has been the uninterrupted time I have with my girls. Hours and days spent isolated and alone together have been healing, and the strength we derive from each other a gift. I imagine what life would have been like if I had been quarantined at their age, alone with my mom in our 2 bedroomed apartment in the city. I’d probably have been watching MTV, pining for the then closeted George Michael, chatting with friends and praying the liquor stores stayed closed forever so Mom would stay sober.
By about 10:30 the girls are cleaning up the kitchen. I eavesdrop as they are loading the dishwasher and they go into full gossip mode. They seem to join forces and find a point of connection during these moments of kitchen duty. One night, at around 11:00, they suddenly turned off all the lights, and started projecting rotating, multicolor stars and a crescent moon on the ceiling and the walls. They blasted their favorite music, and danced on top of the furniture. We all started jumping around and throwing our heads back and waving our arms like we were at a concert. It was explosive and funny, and a much-needed catharsis.
If I can handle the angst and fear that gets ignited by the news, we turn on CNN. When I started to write this piece we all wondered how much worse the news could get. Well it got a lot worse. To my routine I now add protests, heart to heart talks about race with the kids, reading, listening and becoming more informed, and – because I believe it makes a difference praying for peace and change. I also make a daily vow to become more educated and more proactive in whatever way I can. A few days ago I drove my kids to a protest and got out of the car masked, with a hat and walked alongside them. It wasn’t for a photo op or for an Instagram post. It was just a first step.”
I aim to go to bed by midnight and hope that I fall asleep.
Once the lights are out, I lie awake, listening to my girls’ muffled laughs through closed doors on their late night Zoom calls with friends. I obsess about life, the future, my career, and what I am not doing enough of in the world, and for my family. To quiet my brain, I visualize decorating rooms in my mind; rooms we don’t have, rooms that one day will hopefully be full of family, friends, stories, laughs and love. I guess you could say that it’s a meditation of sorts. I eventually fall asleep by 1-1:30 am and hopefully don’t have crazy dreams.