I mentioned the other day that I am forcing my family to share something we are grateful for at the end of each day. It’s supposed to be something specific to that day – big or small. One day I was grateful that my husband and daughter left me alone for several hours to just read in bed. It was so luxurious, to be ALONE for a decent stretch of time. One day I was grateful for tacos. As one is.

I write down our answers on pieces of construction paper I have cut to look (loosely) like leaves or flowers, and then I attach them to a big construction-paper tree trunk that I have masking-taped to our kitchen wall.

This was not my idea; I am doing this because a therapist suggested it. It is supposed to be something good that grows out of this period of self-isolation. There are plenty of things to be grateful for, and at the end of this – whenever that is – we’ll have something beautiful to look at and feel proud of. Not necessarily the tree itself, but the dozens of memories we’ve made, the dozens of little moments of gratitude to look back on.

I know of other families who are doing similar things: Writing down a Good Thing from that day and putting it into a jar, then reading all of the week’s Good Things at dinner on Friday. Going around the table at mealtimes to give thanks for something that happened that day. Purposefully doing random acts of kindness for someone throughout the day or week.

Much like the Good Things, I don’t know if this is working. It feels false, right now. (And Carla and her dad either grudgingly go along with it or actively complain about it.) But I am choosing to believe this is a good example of Fake It Til You Make It, and that it will feel lovely and right at some point in the future. I don’t know. I suppose if it becomes Just Another Thing to add to the list of work and housework and remote learning and stress reduction and meal planning and grocery planning and general anxiety, then maybe I’ll quit. But right now, I’m faking it.

And I’m kind of liking the result.