Creepy vs Cute

 

Recently, while Zibbi was visiting Agogo, the holiday sales flyers started arriving (Target and Costco, specifically).  Lotta morosely looked through the toys alone, circling the ones she wanted.  Several times, she commented how much more fun it would be if Zibbi were present.  At one point, she pointed out a blue koala bear she was about to circle.  Before I could edit myself, I proclaimed, "Ew no!  That is SOO creepy."  Lotta began to cry.  Again, mentioning how Zibbi would understand how cute the Koala was, even if I did not have the capacity.  I suggested she ask Benja, who also proclaimed the bear creepy rather than cute (although, honestly, he may not be an impartial judge, as he finds ALL dolls scary.)  Thom, wisely, refused to vote.  As Lotta renewed her sobbing, I came over and gave her a side hug, muttering, "It's ok to be wrong."  I know it was a risky move.  It could have gone horribly wrong.  But, sometimes, that makes the funniest moments, when you risk a major upset in the name of humor. Fortunately, Lotta, surprised by my comment, began to laugh amongst her tears.  (Which as quoted in the movie Steel Magnolias, is one of the best emotions, "laughter through tears".)

Another time, Zibbi was terrified of a spider in her bedroom, which had had the audacity to crawl into her bed!! I mean really.  Zibbi fled the scene, still crying, wondering how she would ever feel safe again in a world filled with spiders.  I held her and listened while she cried and explained what had happened.  Then, I said, "You know who I feel sorry for, it's that spider.  Imagine how startling it must have been to see a GIANT in her home."  Zibbi, surprised, paused.  And then, luckily, laughed.  I am super lucky they have my sense of humor.  Because really their laughter is only encouraging me.  

Good Night John Boy!

 

Every night after bedtime routines are completed, after Thom has snuggled down with Lotta to read and I have snuggled down with Zibbi to read, Thom and I head downstairs.  As we start walking, Lotta yells, "I LOVE YOU!" and I yell back "I LOVE YOU!"  Then Zibbi yells, "I LOVE YOU MOM!"  And I holler back, "I LOVE YOU!" Then Lotta yells "I LOVE YOU MORE!"  To which I now know is a trick because if I respond, "I LOVE YOU MORE", then there will be complaints of favoratism, "Wait, you love HER MORE??"  And then I yell to Benja, "I LOVE YOU!" to which he responds, "GREAT!"  And Lotta and Zibbi yell to Benja, "Love you Benja! To which he responds, "I love you too!" (Because he is not a monster and wouldn't NOT respond in kind to his younger sisters proclaiming their love.)   And then Zibbi and Lotta each yell to remind me to tell Thom that they love him, just in case he has forgotten in the few minutes since he arrived downstairs.  

Our evening love fest emerged because we are not spending that much time separated, so good-byes are rare these days.  (Although, when Lotta or Zibbi go for their weekly Agogo visits, there is a great deal of missing the other person.)  During non-Covid times, when I drop Lotta off anywhere, we have a special hug/kiss both cheeks that we created a few years ago.  Now, we only "get" to do our special good-bye hug at bedtime.  When we DO spend time apart, like for sleeping, the good bye must be momentous.  

Then, this morning, I was talking to my dad, because it is "Phone Father Friday" (yet another benefit of Covid-19's Safer At Home, scheduling phone time with my dad).  In the midst of our conversation, Zibbi  burst into the bedroom, where I had been stealthily holding the conversation, because she needed a second helping of Fruitful Oh's(!).  Before ending the call, I told my dad, "I love you" and hung up.  She was confused, saying, "I didn't know you could be 50 and STILL

love your dad."  And I said, "Of COURSE, you love your mom and dad your entire life!"  To which she reponded, "Yeah, but Benja doesn't love you anymore."  I explained that we demonstrate our love in different ways at different ages.  So at 15, showing love to your parents might be asking one of them to go for a walk or taking out the trash without being asked or engaging in a conversation.  Whereas when you are 7, showing your love may be making a sign or giving a hug.  She was extremely surprised by this revelation and immediately went to confirm the theory's accuracy with Benja.  I guess it's good that she's checking sources, even at 7?  

Blizzards in April

One day in late April, I met a group of mom friends at a coffee shop.  Outside, the snow was briskly falling (some might even call it blizzard like).  It was late April.  One of my friends had to keep her back to the windows because she was so angry at the spring snow, she couldn't even look at the weather.  Reading the room, it didn't seem the right time to mention how much I was enjoying watching the snow fall so furiously.  That's why I have been reluctant to write this blog.  It feels like so many are struggling with joblessness, illness, racism, just the overall uncertainty of the future.  There IS so much to be afraid/frustrated/annoyed/enraged/fearful about right now.  However, I must admit, there are these bubbles where I just feel the pure bliss of being alive.  It reminds me of how during grief, when suddenly I would be struck with how blue the sky was, along with an overwhelming feeling of how very lucky I was to be alive on a gorgeous day.  

Right now, I love how time has slowed waay down.  Now I can take the time to sit and watch an afternoon show with my kiddos.  I spend time devouring a good book with the girls (Harry Potter right now).  I look them in the eyes when they talk, rather than trying to multi-task (not always, but I attempt.)  I love the creativity of finding ways to stay engaged.  Lotta right now is using her room as a collage, hanging pictures of things she loves everywhere.  Zibbi has rediscovered her stickers color by number book (similar to color by number, but with stickers rather than coloring in).  Lotta is rewriting a story she began in 3rd grade.  Benja spends hours drawing maps and flags.  I like how during this time I make sure every day to give Lotta and Zibbi and Thom a huge hug in the morning (which would be much more rushed as they head out to school).  (Benja is excluded due to the screaming that erupts when he is hugged.)  I love that feeling of how tight we all are right now as a family, knowing we are here for each other.  No more FOMO (fear of missing out), because what are we going to miss out? I love that there are so many ways to stay connected with those outside of my home, zoom, text, email, even an actual phone call if desperate.  I think I will actually miss this sense of everyday connection and leisurely tempo the most when Covid-19 is over.  

Squirrel Watching

 This summer Zibbi had a stint of loving the backyard birds.  Thom convinced her that if she sat still long enough, birds might come and land on her. (These posts make it seem like we are just constantly tricking Zibbi.  Which may or may not be true.)  We also had books on our shelves (!) we utilized to find out more about the birds we were seeing.  (Which seems very reminiscent of this time, we are all super into a topic for a week or so before we move on to the next thing.  I think it is novelty seeking, the home version.) Zibbi was actually really good at sitting quietly and watching the birds and squirrels and chipmunks.  During this time, Thom fashioned a bird feeder from an enormous tree limb.  The finished product looks like a trick, because the limb looks a lot like a cat post, but on top there is a bird feeder.  Thom installed chicken wire to discourage the squirrels from hopping up.  After a few days, the squirrels figured out a way to forgo the chicken wire, and sat triumphantly inside the bird feeder.

I listened to Mathew McConaughey discuss an experience he had in

Australia as an exchange student.  He had to agree to stay the entire year before he went, because students kept asking to return early.  When he arrived, the family he lived with was absolutely coconuts.  At the time, he kept maintaining the stance, "I am ok, everything is fine."  Later, he found increasingly long letters he wrote home with smaller and more slanted handwriting, indicating he was in fact, not "ok".  He describes the event as pivotal to his development as a human and feels certain that he would NOT be the person he is today without having had that harrowing experience.  

As I write these blogs inside this unique time, I wonder if when future me reads them, I will have the experience of realizing that I was actually unhinged.  Blogs about squirrels championing the bird feeder, stealthy Barbies taking over the house?  I also wonder if there will be a point, like Mathew, where I realize how pivotal this time is in creating something that I cannot even imagine.  I am holding out hope.  

For the Love of Fruit Loops

One of my family's favorite hotel amenities is the free breakfast (the other being an indoor pool).  Lotta and Zibbi pile high their plates with every food that looks remotely edible (meaning the foods of course, with the most sugar and/or chocolate).  This is where Zibbi discovered her love of Froot Loops.  I intentionally spread the mis truth that hotels were in fact the only place that had this chemical laden, dye filled delicacy.  Now that Zibbi is 7 and has more access to the outside world through the internet, she has discovered that in fact Froot Loops are available at Amazon.  Which led her to believe that they might be available in other stores too.  Sigh.  The gig is up.  Yesterday, I ventured to our small, local cooperative grocery store.  I found some alternative/natural less colorful fruit loops, named, Fruitful O's.  Zibbi tried one bite and proclaimed them not the same.  At all.  Not even close.  I guess it IS actually the dyes and chemicals that give them their taste.  

Follow up:  This morning, Zibbi decided to give Fruitful O's a second chance and she ate the entire bowl.  Desperate times I guess.  

Dressing for Success

 

Zibbi dresses for success.  She wore a super fancy dress with clip cloppy high heels last week to her zoom meetings at school.  And yes, she is in the bathroom doing school work.  

Then Monday, she decided to wear her pjs to school, even though, as she pointed out, it was not in fact, "PJ day".  

I just wonder if her teacher is at all taking note of her student's ensembles, or if it's just my own interest.  

Also, I have to say 2nd graders have seriously cute voices. I fear if I were a teacher, it would be for me like listening to French, where I just hear the music of the words, without comprehending what the words mean.  

Barbie Update

 

The Barbie gang is back to its mischief.  Here are the shoes left on my night stand.  I tried to take a photo of the Barbies in a pile on the bathroom by the drawer where they live, yet another escape attempt it seems.  The big question I had about the Barbie pile was why one of the Barbies had a single shoe and fancy necklace on, but no other clothing.  Somehow the photo did not turn out.  Strange.  Very strange indeed.  I am onto you Barbies. 

A Hundred Boring Stories

Suddenly, I heard "Grandma!"  "Grandma!" being yelled from the dining room.  I, of course, did not respond.  Because even though the elementary school crowd has been quick to point out that their grandmothers are MY age, I am, not in fact a grandma.  When Zibbi informed me that her baby was calling to ME, I said, that I want to go by the elegant, "Gigi" as my grandmother term.  In addition to Barbie play, Zibbi has been into playing mom/baby.  So this morning, as she was getting her baby, Brie, set up at the table, she suddenly yelled into the kitchen, "Mom, what crave did you have?"  I had to pause and figure out what she was inquiring. Had I been to a rave?  How does she even know what a rave is?  I'm not even completely sure I understand what it is.  Then I realized she was asking what cravings I had had when I was pregnant with her.  Dark Chocolate was my crave for her, Lemon Bars for Lotta, Falafel sandwiches with Benja and Mexican for Ellie.  I don't know what this has to do with anything.  Maybe it is just letting Zibbi know that she is important, we remember her even when she was a tiny peanut floating inside.  Or maybe this is another boring story.  As comedian Tig Notaro said on her podcast (Don't Ask Tig),  "I have a hundred boring stories right now if you've got the time."  

Leaning Towards Fun

 

This morning I heard scurrying around at early o'clock.  Last time I checked it was Saturday, and there was no need to even consider waking up at early o'clock.   I struggled to sleep even with background noises of continual giggling.  Finally, I couldn't take it any more and I emerged from my cozy cozy bed.  As I walked past Zibbi's bedroom, both girls were snuggled up together barely visible under blankets giggling.  When they saw me, Zibbi piped up, "Oh, hi mom!"  Then they proceeded to reenact the morning they'd had thus far.  They had taken turn being spies, crawling across my bedroom floor to check and see if I was yet awake.  Sometimes during this strange dystopian feeling time, I worry that by the time this is finished, the girls will have missed childhood milestones.  I wonder if Lotta will even be interested in playgrounds once this is through.  I worry that maybe they are missing out on all of our usual fun times--going to parties, day trips to museums, trick or treating, movies at movie theaters, theater in general, after school play dates.  Then, they do something like this morning which just seems so lighthearted and frivolous, so spontaneously created, that I wonder why I worried at all.  Like a plant leaning towards sunlight, they always seem to find a way to lean towards the fun.  

Escape

 

Yesterday (the day before?) I ventured into the bathroom and the Mermaid Barbies were scattered throughout the floor, the drawer where they usually live was opened.  It looked as if all the Barbies had been trying a big escape, but had only made it as far as the floor.  Yes, I must admit, that most of our wealth has been spent on thrift store Barbies.  I suspect that my appearance in the room thwarted their efforts.  I will keep you updated if any other suspicious activity occurs...

Sloppy

Yesterday I fixed myself a taco salad and sat down to eat.  As I put the first forkful in my mouth, Thom sat down at the other end of the table.  I realized half forkful had not actually made it into my mouth.  Instead of covering my mouth, or quickly slurping up the lettuce, as I would in normal times, I just let it slowly advance into my mouth.  It took awhile.  Perhaps the chewing was just making me tired.  I guess I am also not used to being watched while I eat lunch.  That is what 25 years of marriage gets you, the chance to eat grossly in front of another person without them leaving.  I think, though, it is a testament to Thom himself that he was amused by my eating rather than disgusted.

Saturday night, Benja stood by the back door with his face mask on, waiting for someone to walk by so he could scare them.  I walked by with a load of laundry heading to the laundry room.  I clocked that he was by the back door, but I had no reaction.  After several minutes, I realized, I was supposed to respond to a strange man standing by the back door.  I think I had already used up my cortisol (stress hormone) for the day, you know, just with regular every day news. 

Today is Thom's 50th birthday.  It feels sort of like the year Ellie died, trying to figure out how to celebrate amidst 214,000 deaths in the US (a death rate considered low due to lack of testing).  This morning when Lotta raced downstairs before Thom.  She looked around at the cluttered table, and floor filled with Barbie toys, and declared, "Why does it look so plain down here?"  To which I raced to the scary scary basement to retrieve birthday balloons, a sign, and crowns.  (Say what you will about the spooky basement, but it rarely disappoints in having what we need.) That's the thing, even amidst feeling completely defeated by this pandemic, I still have children that require me to carry on and celebrate what needs to be celebrated.  I'm lucky that way.  

As I sprinted through the grocery store this morning, I came upon a young woman and a child.  The woman was just completely loving on that little girl, giving her hugs and kisses.  They were really relishing each other.  I had to take several deep breaths to stop myself from sobbing in the face of such gratitude and love.  I am using them today as my role models of how to really truly cherish this time we have together.  Because no matter what, today we have eachother.

Weird Dreams

 

Dreams are so strange during a pandemic.  One of my recents was that I was at a party when I suddenly panicked, realizing no one was socially distanced or wearing a mask.  I was told to relax and maybe go get a drink or a bite to eat.  That is exactly what it feels like in real life right now.  As Wisconsin falls into the hotspot of the world, our president (who just tested positive last week), has told us not to be afraid, that we need to live our lives.  Furthermore, on Wednesdays, I have tried to find places to take Lotta and Zibbi to run them around.  We tried going to a small family farm last Wednesday.  We arrived and there were more cars than I expected in the lot.  I was little taken aback.  We were there mid morning on a Wednesday.  Several large groups of people were mingling.  Maskless.  Wisconsin just set up a field hospital, because our hospitals are filled (!) and people are gathering in large groups with masks (which we absolutely know aids in the spread).  The girls and I walked around for a few minutes to see the animals, with our masks on.  Blah.  It makes me feel like I'm at that party, the kitchen is on fire and everyone is recommending just ignoring it in favor of the celebration.  

Seasonal Changes

 

Last Saturday, the girls begged me to get out their winter clothes.  I agreed, because at the time, the highs were in the 50s (we even had one night when there was a frost warning, the week before).  So our summer clothing was seeming irrelevant to what was actually happening outside.  PLUS, every morning, Zibbi would emerge in a sun dress with shorts.  The girls had a grand time going through the basement storage containers, trying on outfits, a mini spontaneous fashion show.  Which pretty much created a clothes explosion in the living room.  It took me the rest of the week to get all the summer clothes properly put away and the winter clothes organized. 

Jump ahead to THIS week, when we returned to summer.  Suddenly, the thought of a cozy sweater on an 80 degree day seems utterly ridiculous.  In my mind, I wonder why we even own such items.  Last night, Lotta lamented the fact that she no longer has any shorts in her drawers.  After begging me for that ONE week we seemed to be entering fall to get on the seasonal switch over.  Now to get any summery clothes I must venture to my least favorite spot, the scary scary basement.  Sigh.  It is the LAST straw for me (see how I circled back to that saying?)

Request Denied

So that you don't think I have become COMPLETELY unhinged (just partially, as much as everyone else), I MAY have posted this story before.  I wanted to acknowledge my possible error before you notice.  For some reason, this story came to my mind the other day and I wanted to share it here.   

When Benja was in Middle School, he would have orchestra concerts throughout the year.  The auditorium was always HOT and the seating was always uncomfortable.  Before the performance, the principal requested that applause be held until AFTER all the music had been played for each grade.  In order to acknowledge that we'd heard, the entire audience broke into applause.  Which gave me uncontrolled giggles, because in my mind, I felt like the applause was an indicator of "request denied" because he had JUST asked us NOT to applaud. Applauding parents is a challenging if impossible wave to contain.   

This is way funnier in my head than in this post.  So it is possible that my humor is broke.  

So Long Su**ers!

 Zibbi told me one of her classmates ended the call with the sassy farewell, "So long suckers!"  The next time her teacher started a Zoom, she informed the class that this type of language cannot happen at school.  She was going to explain what language which she was referring, but then told the class, she could not even repeat it.  

This anecdote has tickled me all morning.  (Don't get me wrong, I totally get that the teacher has to enforce certain principles and did not want to reinforce the use of the word by stating it herself.) Benja and went on a riff imagining a world where the adult says, "Ok, I'm thinking of all the words, I don't want you to say.  Now, just make sure you don't say THOSE words..."  

Rescinded

 

Dear Mother, I am writing this letter to you as a way to show my gratitude for everything you do. Now, besides the fact that you gave me life, I would also like to commend you on how much you do for me now. I appreciate not only how you have the kindness to generously feed and house me in such comfortable accommodations, but how you also enable and encourage me to do my best in everything I attempt to do, even when I fail. I also must thank you for listening to not only me, but also my sisters so that we may have some voice in the household’s decisions, the less strict guidelines have allowed us to flourish and explore responsibility on our own. Also, I cannot deny that you are one of the kindest people I have ever met, and you have encouraged me to be the kindest I can be. Thank you for all the opportunities and kindness you provide. I shall leave by saying the final thing you have encouraged me to do, is to get a doctorate when I finally join a university :D. Cheers, Benja

____________

Yours truly,

Benjamin Thomas III Wolf Kennedy I  

Above was an email that was read to me yesterday, I am probably NOT supposed to share it with you, so keep it on the down low please.  Also, he really wanted numbers in his name, which is why there are random ones inserted in his signature.  Overall, I think it's a reminder how the little things we do each day can impact someone unknowingly.  Then, later in the day, I received this text...

"Mother I am purchasing something and you shall not question it nor my intentions.  Realise this mother, I gave you a gratitude card today, it can be easily rescinded."  

Boy, oh boy, does he ever have a firm understanding of my sense of humor.  

Do it for Malala!

When I was in elementary school, ONE day I forgot my lunch money.  At the time, the rule was, no money, no lunch, so that the youngsters could learn about economic inequality RIGHT away.  When I came home, hungry and crying, I was greeted with a lesson to give me some perspective.  Many children around the world do not have enough food every day, I, on the other hand, have lunch every day except for this one.  I am NOT blaming the adults around me as I think at the time, you were not allowed to get your parenting papers unless you frequently stated, "finish what's on your plate because there are children starving in Africa." It was one of THE most popular slogans back then.  I think you would get a demerit if you didn't use it.  When I was told this, I felt ashamed of myself and badly for the other children who didn't have lunch.  (Also, at the time, I had not yet learned the trick of "name dropping", which I utilized frequently during hospital stays with Ellie, because for crying out loud, my stepdad was the principal of the elementary school.)  I think mostly though, it made me feel like the adults around me would NOT in fact help me when I needed help.  

Fast forward to the present, as I struggle with Lotta and Zibbi expressing how very much they hate virtual school right now.  I do understand that the upset is about MUCH more than virtual school.  Virtual school is just the last straw after many other disappointing straws.  (Why straws in this scenario?  I think of a hay stack when I write that, but are we talking about plastic straws? Maybe this phrasing should eliminated for the sea turtles?)  Zoom meetings have been dubbed "Doom Zoom" by Zibbi.  Lotta cries on Sunday night anticipating the upcoming school week.  Unfortunately, every time they protest, I think of all the girls who have been denied education based on gender.  I think of Malala Yousafzai, who fought for girls in Pakistan to have an equal education to the point of getting shot by her opposition.  I think of our own country, where not that long ago, girls were not seen as worthy of educating.  So HOW do I listen AND understand their frustration at doing schooling virtually AND provide additional perspective.  Because honestly, it has helped me recently a GREAT deal to think of all the people during World War II who hid in small spaces to stay safe, compared to us in a modern home with amazing technology hiding from a deadly virus.  (I know I know it's not completely equivalent).  When I think of the alternatives, I feel fortunate.  And THAT is what I want to convey to Lotta and Zibbi.  The ability to both feel the feels AND find the gratitude and perspective to do the best we can.  I think we are going to have loads of opportunity to work through this dilemma.   

Simpler Times

I know I know how many blogs can I possibly write about something as mundane as grocery shopping? Monday morning is the time I've found that the grocery store is the least crowded (don't tell anyone).  This morning as I was getting ready, Zibbi said she needed to ask me something.  Then she said, "Never mind, I know what you'll say."  Finally, she confessed that she really wanted to go to the grocery store with me.  Zibbi and I have had some GOOD times at the grocery store.  However, regretfully, Wisconsin is currently THE hot spot (along with the Dakotas) in the world right now so probably NOT the best time to take her with me.  I reassured her that I too miss our grocery store dates and ONE day we will go back to the store together.  Makes me yearn for simpler times, frolicking through the grocery store aisles together.

Low-Key Celebrating

 

Then there was Benja's birthday (March 27th) way back when this all hit our shores and we were under stay at home orders. For Benja the most important element was having take out for every single meal, so it would feel as if we were on vacation.  So that's what we did.  Gotham Bagels for breakfast, Tex Tubbs for lunch, Laotian(?) for dinner.  

At that point, everyone on social media shared ideas of alternative no risk celebration ideas--Zoom Parties, drive by parades.  For Benja, we decided the way to go would be to make signs that said, "DON'T honk to wish Benja a Happy Birthday."  ALMOST everyone on the busiest street nearby complied.  At the end of the day, we would have said, had we actually carried this out IRL, rather than just in our heads, "Wow!! SO very many people wished you happy birthday today!"  Many years his birthday has fallen over spring break, so luckily, we have had years of being creative with his celebration.  

Sifferent

 Ellie created the word, "sifferent" to combine the "same" and "different".  I think it so perfectly describes our time now.  We think things will be the same, but in fact they are quite different.  Very similar in feel to "sappy" or sad + happy.  It's really about being able to hold two opposing ideas without having your mind blown.

Speaking of things that are sifferent, I thought I should take a moment to describe Lotta's birthday on August 15th.  Particularly important since the last blog was about Zibbi's birthday.   I don't want to be accused of favoritism (one of the worst "isms" within a family).  

Lotta's original vision for her birthday was a LARGE beach party, followed by a smaller slumber party.  None of which was happening because of Covid-19.  Lotta, as Zibbi did, regrouped and came up with an alternative "bunny themed" family party plan.  

I heard recently, that we make memories around things that are out of the ordinary.  Because every day is so similar right now, when we recall this time period, it may seem like one looong hazy day.  I set out to once again, make a memory for Lotta's birthday.    

What Lotta recalls most now about her birthday back in August, was how we were all sitting outside, when, suddenly, Benja started talking about something off topic (it was a code word).  We all went inside quickly (hopefully before she could notice).  We reemerged a few moments later singing "Happy Birthday" while all wearing brand new rabbit shirts.  She was surprised and delighted.  Nailed it (I'm not sure if I'm using this term correctly.)   

Birthday Pandemic Style

We began to discuss alternative plans.  In order to protect her heart, Zibbi immediately began saying how she didn't really want a big party, she actually preferred a family event.  She decided instead of a sleepover (which she was hoping to have for the first time with her best friend), we would have a family sleepover.  After giving me a list of newly created detailed instructions for her birthday, she informed me she really wanted a "surprise" party.  I explained that a surprise party and detailed plans are antonyms of one another.  She clarified that what she really wanted was for everyone to jump out and yell, "Surprise" at her.As I was straightening Zibbi's room this morning, I came across the sign she'd made informing her guests how she wanted them to dress up for her birthday party.  It filled me with wistfulness and yearning to read this list from another era all together.  This time of year is so filled with endings and students are not getting to experience the usual rituals and celebrations--graduations, proms, ALL those end of school year events.  When I came across that sign Zibbi had made when we thought what the future held was so different than what it did, it hit me like a gut punch.  Grief often seems to be sneaky like that.  (And I know it is SMALL compared to the pain and anguish so many are facing right not--illness, death, loss of home, joblessness.)   

 

 

I wrote this on May 22nd, then, I didn't have the will or strength to post it.  I felt like I was being too whiny or negative, I was trying to protect my image, I suppose.  Now, however, I have decided that I want to document this time, in ALL of its many shades.  So hold on while we time travel back to May....

Back in March, Zibbi began her birthday planning in earnest.  Her vision was a tea party where everyone would dress up.  We had a great many talks about exactly how she wanted her celebration to go.  She set aside all the costumes.  She created a box of items she would need. Then the pandemic hit the US.  Schools closed.  The prediction was that Wisconsin would peak exactly on Zibbi's birthday, May 22nd.  

                                                                                              

Evelyn arrived this morning to surprise Zibbi with an outdoor/socially distanced chat.  Zibbi sat in our van while Evelyn sat in a chair 10 feet away.  Evelyn gave Zibbi the same Barbie Mermaid set she has, so they can Marco Polo play.  It  was surprisingly sweet.  Meanwhile, as we were outside, Thom, Benja and Lotta raced around the dining room, decorating it with streamers and signs.  When Zibbi returned inside, everyone shouted, "SURPRISE!"  To which, a shocked Zibbi, exclaimed, "Wait, what?  Are there more presents?"  No, in fact, there were not.  

No we cannot do what we would normally be doing to celebrate the passage of time.  We are being forced to reset our expectation and be way more creative. I appreciate that Zibbi was so very willing to come up with an alternative plan that worked for her.  It IS however exhausting.

Reading

 Growing up, I read a LOT.  Partially because I had fairly severe asthma, so it was a way to occupy my time, even during an attack.  My younger brother, Kip remembers me staring down longingly from my room as everyone else frolicked in the yard.  However, what I recall is having UNINTERRUPTED reading time, snuggled down in bed with a great book.  Sometimes when I'd go over to my dad's for visits, I would stay in bed quietly reading, hoping no one would notice I was awake so I could start my day absorbed in a good book.  A few months ago, I realized how this history with reading has helped us all immensely during this pandemic.  (Not to even mention how much much Ellie adored books!) Since we can't safely do what we normally do, everyone in the house has become consumed with reading.  I have been reading aloud The Penderwicks (feels like a modern day Little Women) to Lotta and Zibbi whenever we have a free moment.  I approach it as a one woman show.  We've also read through almost all The Chronicles of Narnia.  And we've begun the Harry Potter series. 

This week, Lotta and Zibbi started creating their own chapter books.  I think in hindsight, we will look back on this as "The Year of Reading." What a terrific continuation of the story Kip started.