Duck Duck Goose

One ordinary summer morning, I was driving to Trader Joe's with Benja and Lotta. Benja suddenly had a phone call from his dad, who led with, "Do you want to be a hero today?" To which Benja resonded with an excited "YES" and immediately tried to exit the moving vehicle. (Ladybirding it, as I later called it after the teenager in the movie LadyBird opened the door while riding in a car). He asked if I could take him home. I inquired what was happening. He said there were some ducklings stuck in the storm sewers and his dad was trying to rescue them. I drove back home and as I neared the stop sign near our house, Benja AND Lotta jumped out of the van. Thom had already taken off the grate to the storm sewer and he'd jimmy rigged a net to a long pole to try to reach the ducklings. The mamma duck was on the sidewalk loudly protesting what was happening. Benja immediately jumped INTO the storm drain (which was about as tall as he is) and began looking around. The problem was, each time, we would try to retrieve them, the group would escape and begin walking down one of the pipes. As people would pass, I would explain about the ducklings. Many a car would drive out of its way or slow waay down in order to avoid hitting the mamma duck. When I explained to one of our neighbors, he said, "oh shit", and it was the first time that entire afternoon I felt the cold hand of doom, and thought we might actually NOT be able to reunite those ducklings to their mamma. Two women from an apartment building up the street noticed our shenanigans and from across the street starting yelling that Animal Control had already been out and was unable to rescue the ducklings. These two women reminded me of characters you would see sitting on their front stoop in Queens. They were NEVER not with a cigeratte. When I described them to a friend, she called them, Thelma and Agnes. Which feels accurate. Throughout that afternoon, they kept coming back out and asking for updates. At one point, we were able to get ONE of the ducklings out, and we started to reunite it with its mother. Thelma and Agnes informed us that animal control had said NOT to reunite just one because the mother would abandon the rest of them. We were super excited to get the one out. It felt like a victory. Benja also called one of his best friends to join us in the search, she showed up and she and Benja kept checking out all the storm drains around the block for quacking sounds. At one point, we rescued four ducklings and put them in a cardboard box. I called animal control and a woman showed up. A man rode by on his bike and told us a story of how he'd had a moment by the lake with a gull, where they'd just connected. Then, the gull flew away and was immediately hit by a car. The man was appalled because the car didn't even slow down, even though the bird was obviously injured. As animal control is trying to capture the mother duck to take her to the lake, she gets a call that there is an injured gull. I mean, the man who'd told me the story was still standing there and we couldn't believe it. The Animal Control person was much less impressed than we were about the coincidence. Anyway, she left me an actual animal control net, because there was still ONE duckling missing. We hadn't ever seen the missing duckling in our explore, but Thelma and Agnes had assured us we were missing one. (To which I took as "This is my job now", Benja and his friend saluted me when they saw it.) Anyway, this couple walked by and I once again told the story, this time while holding a REAL animal control net, and they were dismayed that one of the ducklings was still at large. And I tried to convince them to NOT be upset because we had rescued FOUR other ducklings. Yes, they said, but that ONE is still gone...and it reminded me of my family. Becuase our eldest died of a brain tumor. And I can often tell that this impacts how everyone thinks about our family and I understand. But also, we have THREE very much alive children who are thriving. Ultimately, I somehow feel responsible for how much this might impact others. And maybe, just like the one missing baby duckling, I could let others feel whatever they need to feel rather than doing a whole song and dance to convince them otherwise. Anyway, animal Control returned, retrieved their net, and slowly walked the baby ducklings (in a crate chirping away) down the street, as the mother duck followed. That morning we'd woken up regular people but went to bed heroes. You just never know what the day will bring.

I am PERFECT!

During the summer, Zibbi was in the process of toasting up a bagel. She ran off to attend to one of her many other projects. When she returned, it was EXACTLY when the toaster oven was beeping. She immediately exclaimed, "OMG guys, I am PERFECT!!" We of course LOVED this exclamation and used it as often as possible in the ensuing days.

See, Everyone DOES Know Me

A few weeks ago, Lotta and found ourselves in St. Vinny's. I was trying on some sunhats. An adult male saw me and commented enthusiastically, "That hat looks really good on you!" I responded, "Thanks!" and he signaled for a high five. Now, normally, I might hesistate, but this man was not giving me any creepy vibes, so I went ahead and high fived. As he walked away, he procalaimed to his mom, "See mom, everyone DOES know me." To which his mom responded, as if she had said this numerous times, "No, no they don't." This interaction delighted me to no end. First, I could relate to the parent, trying to protect her son's kind heart. Secondly, it felt like an opportunity to pay it forward for all the times someone had been kind and played along with Ellie's shenanigans. I always appreciated the strangers who didn't need to know exactly why, but were willing to play along. Finally, I appreciated how much the son truly believed that everyone knew him. It reminded me of how Ellie treated every stranger as a friend she just hadn't had the pleasure to meet yet. The assumption that everyone IS in fact a friend. What a fantastic world to reside in.

Last Day of Lapham

So today, was the last day I am assisting in a 3K classroom. I'd started the year thinking I would substitute teach, as a way to make a bit of money AND help the school out, which is facing staff shortages. Then the position for afternoon SEA in 3K opened up, and a fellow mom inquired if I might be interested in job sharing. I ADORED the way the 3-year-olds actually WANTED to be beside me, what a contrast to middle school where I was actively ignored. NO one will admit they have parents in middle school. Or wave hello. Sigh. It's just not my vibe. Then, right after spring break, the district sent 4 new students with disabilities over 2 weeks. And all hell broke loose. Toys were thrown. Chairs were thrown. A student in the class that had been making great strides suddenly reverted back to NOT cooperating. I was bit. The supervisor of our program was sent to investigate. She wanted to "set us up for success", which meant to me, that instead of hearing our concerns, they would continue to send us more students, even after we were already drowning. Finally, the student struggling the most went to a different school. Which was also sad, because we had finally gotten to the point where he was making some progress. Anyway, I had already committed to continuing next year. Once I started having doubts it was hard to imagine continuing next year. I subbed in the morning class, where they had a new student who screamed non stop. It was unbearable. And I saw how the other students didn't even hear her screams anymore. They weren't even started when the fire alarm when off. (A very different reaction to the afternoon crowd.) Finally, I decided that I would NOT return. It was such a challenging decision, as there is SO very much I loved about being there. But, it no longer felt safe, or like we were even able to do our jobs in the current climate. Next year, they'd already decided to start with 7 peer mentors, which to me, meant the district was considering sending us 7 students with disabilities. Which MIGHT have been fine if there was any variation in the level of disablitiy, rather than only giving services to the students with the very most need. On the last day, one of the students told me, "This is the last day of schoool, I will never ever see you again." To which I responded that I was also feeling sad that we wouldn't see one another every day anymore. I did suggest that maybe we would see eachother at the library (where I am coordinating some programming). After school, the teachers met at a local bar. I snuck in and sat down at a looong table. And listened to the teachers connect about the students who would go on to Marquette next year, and just feel all the incredible love they give every single day. And THAT is why they put up with so much every single day. Because they somehow find a way to continue to love those children. At a certain point, I started to feel super hungry and tired, and I had the urge to do an Irish Goodbye, sneaking quietly out the door. When I suggested this to a teacher, she said, I got you, and she announced to the the entire table, "Let's clap out Debi!" And as I frantically began snatching up all my items, tehy clapped me out, I turned for one final, hands above the head to recieve the clapping. It was the BEST ending

Memory Sandwiches part 2

Here's an email I sent to the music and art teachers...

I wanted to let you both know that Madeline tried her best to keep my tears to a minimum by playing all the songs for me beforehand.  I kinda shrugged, and thought, "If she wants a mom that doesn't sob at Fine Arts Night, she's gonna have to find a different version than me!"  

As I was sitting enjoying the music, I suddenly just had moments of flipping back through the years.  I thought about Ellie in a choir concert, something, we NEVER ever imagined would happen.  As she turned around for a movement, her pants were down enough to see her coin slot.   Then, I thought of Lotta's classmate, Walter, really hamming it up at Lapham, enjoying entertaining the audience.  I thought of Lotta wearing a fancy dress and red lipstick to a Fine Arts Night.  I thought of Benja waving wildly at me before his Middle School Orchestra concerts (because he knew how I struggled not to think of Ellie and her 5th grade graduation in the same space.  It always seemed such an incredibly brave thing for a middle schooler to do.)   Such a memory sandwich of that space!!  And I was suddenly filled with awe and wonder that in the blink of an eye the kids before us will be graduating from high school, because it seems just a moment since Ellie and Benja and Lotta were performing there.  And I wanted to make sure to soak up as much of that moment, with all those wonderful words and amazing art, to take with me into the future.  I left pondering how it isn't just this ONE night, it's the whole string of them that lives on.  So, while you may be contemplating the things that didn't go as planned (or maybe you are just sighing with relief it is over!!), please know that the families that attended are adding the night to their memory sandwiches.  Thank you for taking the time and energy to accomplish this feat.  

Much love on this tired tired Friday,

Debi

Signs, Signs, Everywhere

Over Memorial Day weekend we visited St. Charles, MO to say goodbye to my in-laws before they move to Virginia.  It was a somewhat sudden trip, as their health began to decline rapidly and Thom's brothers wanted to move them sooner rather than later (we'd thought we had several months, but it turned into several weeks.)  I wasn't looking forward to the trip, as it is the end of the school year and there is already SO very much happening.  So.  Very.  Much.  When we arrived in St. Charles, we decided to venture to the local bookstore we'd visited during out last visit.  We were enjoying browsing, when I looked down and saw there was a book on a display table written by, "Ellie Kennedy" (it was actually Elle Kennedy, but my brain read it as "Ellie").  Then, when I checked out, the receipt was $113 total (1/13 was the day Ellie died).  Finally, as we were swimming, the song, "I Hope You've had the Time of Your Life" that was played at Ellie's 5th Grade Graduation Ceremony came on.  I shared all this with Benja.  I told him, all of this can be explained logically, of course.  The numbers add up to $113, the song is fairly popular.  However, I DO like the explanation that has a little bit of magic mixed in.  

Then, as we were walking down the stairs at the hotel, the sign said, (oh how I regret not taking a photo to get the exact wording), something about needing to go the level "G" in order to get to the "Exit Discharge".  Every single floor had the same sign.  First of all, exit and discharge seem redundant.  Second of all, if you are thinking of putting the word, "Discharge" on a sign, my advice is to rethink your options, as it may not sound the way you think it does.

Finally, as we traveled the LOOONG road home on Monday, exhausted, ready to be home, to basically jump immediately into the week, we stopped at a roadside stop.  Benja and I were reading signs in one of their displays.  The topic was "How to AVOID Road Rage", with 5 easy steps.  We decided they also needed the alternative, "How to Initiate Road Rage" (Unfortunately, again I am regretting my lack of photographic evidence here).  Step 1:  Maintain Eye Contact with the other drivers.  The longer the better! (In response to "avoid eye contact with the other drivers). Step 5:  You can teach other drivers (in response to "You don't have to teach others how to drive).  We thought a white board with notes for improvement might be the most helpful for this particular step.  

Maybe, St. Charles, needs to change their city slogan to, "city of signs".  

There's Always More to Learn

 A few weeks ago, Benja arrived home from school and proclaimed that the school might be calling me about some spontaneous substitute teaching Benja had engaged in at school.  Confused, I requested more information.  Benja informed me that he and some of his classmates had decided that instead of attending the class they were enrolled in, they would attend an art class.  When they arrived, the teacher who just happened to be a substitute, looked Benja up and down (in his business casual) and asked if he was the assistant for the class.  For some reason, Benja immediately responded "Yes."  And proceeded to help out however he could with the class.  When we discussed it later, Thom concluded that Benja is the only senior to skip class to attend ANOTHER class.  His love of learning is so high, he suddenly realized, "WAIT, there are ALL these other classes we COULD be attending..."  By the way, the school NEVER called to alert us to his absence, we figured maybe, they were so desperate for additional help in the class, they decided to NOT turn it down when it happened to appear out of the blue.  

13 Days, 12 Years Later

 

This year, I wasn't sure I had it in me to to do the 13 Days, sometimes I just want to kind of hide, become a bit invisible.  Lotta & Zibbi were NOT having it.  Lotta had even written about the 13 Days in a class presentation of family traditions.  I shared the document with Zibbi's teacher and the teacher I have been working with in 3K.  They BOTH wanted to share the celebration with their classes.  And I was shocked.  I guess within our extended families, it sort of feels like everyone is complete with the 13 Days.  I find, just like Ellie's death, that some of the most unexpected people turn up to help.  Maybe the people I anticipated being able to help are unable to do so for whatever reason.  Then, someone, unexpectedly arrives and seems actually excited about learning more about Ellie's life and how we continue to celebrate her each year.  And, if nothing else, for a break from freaking January (January in the upper midwest is BRUTAL and LONG.)  So, today, on the 23rd anniversary of Ellie's birth, (maybe we should call it her "birthaversary" combining birthday and anniversary?) the designated day was "fancy clothing/fancy hat" day.  As we arrived at school, one of Zibbi's classmates, ran by me with a hat she had decorated and painted in honor of fancy hat day.  I was SUPER impressed.  (I told their mom, bonus points for the extra work!)

To celebrate Ellie's day, Thom & I went to Lazy Jane's.  A restaurant so infused with memory upon memory.  AND where every other scone is compared against the BEST scones in the world (so far).  As we placed our order, they asked what name, and Thom said, "Ellie".  So glappy he is on board.  Then, I noticed the heart picture by the register, and thought, the hunt continues...

Yesterday in the schedule was the "Happy Heart Hunt", in honor of ONE Of Ellie's favorite shapes being hearts (the other was triangles because of the Sesame Street character, Telly loving triangles).  I hadn't spotted many hearts, honestly.  I even wore heart leggings to up my number.  I was super touched that the music teacher made a point of showing me her heart earrings.  And Zibbi's teacher had heart coloring pages to hand out.  Lotta and I went to the grocery store, and as we were checking out, I saw that the cashier had on a heart necklace.  Then, the cashier told me she also had heart earrings going up her ear.  She explained that when her father had passed, her sister had made something into heart necklaces in his honor.  And when I told her about Ellie and hearts, she shared that she had had Leukemia and had survived it through a stem cell transplant from her brother.  And I just thought, WOW, what a wonderful world.  To be able to share ALL that in the line at Willy Street Co-op.  I definitely live in the right place.

On hug day, Zibbi came downstairs and said, "It's hug day", while she opened her arms out wide for a hug.  I was impressed that she was taking the lead.  

On another day, as I was getting into my car to go to work, a very insistent dog kept wanting to interact with me.  As the person she was with pulled her away from me, she said, "Come on, Nellie" and I thought, of COURSE her name is Nellie (Ellie with an N).  

I think the thing is when the 13 Days rolls around, I am more on the lookout for the magic.  And for the people who suddenly show up and the people who just keep showing up.  It is ALWAYS a surprise.  It has been and continues to be an absolutely incredible journey.  Because of Ellie, my relationships with others are richer, deeper more meaningful.  So many times when I get a hug, it is for REAL.  No more half-hearted hugs.  The new people that show up, I feel both wistfulness that they don't get to meet her, and happiness that her story continues.  

Getting Recognized

 

Lotta met up with a friend at a local park Sunday.  I sat and chatted with the friend's mom, while Lotta and Goldie walked around the park by themselves.  As I mentioned previously, Lotta has requested alone time with friends.  She is not wrong, as I DO tend to chat people up.  As Jodi and I were chatting, suddenly, this fully masked little guy ran up (maintaining 6 feet of course) and excitedly asked, "Whose mom are you??"  I knew this was a Zibbi aged child, so I immediately told him I was Zibbi's mom.  He then jumped up and said, "Where is she?  Where is Zibbi?"  And I explained that she was spending time with her grandma, so she was not actually in the park.  Looking disappointed, he walked away, telling me he'd really wanted to SEE her and PLAY with her. 

Before leaving the park, James made sure to remind me to bring Zibbi next time because he REALLY wanted to play with her.  When I relayed the story to Zibbi she said, "I don't have a classmate named James."  Still, she thought it would be a good idea for her to go with me next time, because it could be a good time.  (I imagine he was in her class in kindergarten or 4K, not in her current class. Oh, the perks of being a parent volunteer, and getting recognized!)

Update on Ketchup/Catsup

 The dinner after I wrote the previous blog, we realized (gasp!) that we were actually OUT of catsup/ketchup!!  I had such a large supply that I was lulled into believing we would NEVER be out again.  Alas.  So, we actually DID use some of the restaurant ketchup packets.  Zibbi  discovered that night, she is actually NOT a fan of the "Red Gold" ketchup brand.  (Fortunately, I was able to pick up an emergency bottle, since the lack of ketchup incident.  So rest easy, reader. ) 

Ketchup vs Catsup

We ordered in on Mother's Day.  And to our surprise and amazement, we were given a quantity of ketchup packets. (Catsup? Ketchup? I kind of wish I was a "catsup" person, it sounds so much more like a compound word than ketchup, alas, I think it is too late for me to make the change.) I'd heard that there was a nation wide shortage, which was why I was so shocked by their appearance in my home. We had no idea what to do with a huge quantity of ketchup packets, with Zibbi's catsup consumption, we buy in bulk.  At Costco.  We call it "poor man's pasta sauce", she takes her noodles and dips them in ketchup and parmesan (shaky cheese, not the fancy, freshly grated version).  But I digress.  When I entered the kitchen again, I saw that Thom had written a message with the packets.  "HI" it said.  Before bed it said, "By" (not enough to make the "e" for a proper good bye, still the effort was made.)  Then in the morning, a heart.  Then Benja got in on the action and wrote out, "SOS".  Thom responded by making a crab like creation that looked as if it were eating a Lego person.  He'd even thought of opening a package to make it look gory.  (Which of course sounded less fun thinking of the crusty clean up that would require later.)  Now, after all that fun, the packets sit on the counter abandoned.  And STILL we know NOT what the heck to do with them.  Thom thought perhaps we could give them back??  Although, it seems like they've been through a LOT to be given back...

The Veil of Perfection

 

The vaccine I received was a one dose, which, some hypothesize has a bit more bang to it than the two dose version (where the "bang" is distributed over two vaccines).  I was all set to muscle my way through any symptoms I might have.  All night after my shot, I felt like my heart was racing.  Simultaneously, I felt exhausted and hot/then chilled. And oh so achey all over.  In the morning, I decided since I was awake, I might as well work out.  I thought it might help with any soreness.  I lived to regret that decision.  As soon as I was finished, and I'd set up breakfast food, I went back to bed.  I was in bed most of the morning.  Thom and Benja had their vaccines (conveniently) scheduled for that day, so off they went around lunch time.  I was sleeping and Lotta, determination in her voice, agreed to make lunch.  As I slept, I suddenly heard a quiet voice say, "Mom".  And I jerked awake, as you do, when your mom radar is on (which I think stays switched on permanently once you have children.)  Zibbi requested that I emerge from the bedroom to cut up strawberries (which we didn't actually have) because she didn't think it safe for Lotta to weld a knife.  I came downstairs and cut slices of bread for Zibbi, as Lotta, furiously looked on.  Lotta became so frustrated at one point, that she started sobbing and I gave her a huge hug, telling her that I knew how much she was wanting to help.  And I truly appreciated her attempt.  On the other hand, I know that for right now, Zibbi thinks I am perfection, I am the one and only one who can perform certain tasks to her satisfaction (like toasting a bagel).  I know that oh too soon, this veil of illusion will fall and she will discover that I too have struggles and weaknesses and faults.  But that morning, I wasn't prepared to let her in on the secret.  Not just yet.  

Getting my Chit Chat On

A few weeks ago,  I walked to St. Vinny's with a friend for a little thrift break.  As we chatted in one of the aisles, not one, not two, but THREE people piped into our conversation to add insight or opinions to what we were saying.  What I loved about it is how it felt like everyone was just missing chatting with a stranger, so when they saw the opportunity they grabbed it.   One of the conversations was with a fellow Marquette mother (that is the school Lotta attends) telling us that they were continuing to keep their son virtual.  She said she was partially doing it because they needed some families to stay virtual in order to maintain a distance in the classroom.  But, she shared, she really liked having her children around, so she'd continue as long as she could.  It was so very sweet.   Then, I kept running into the mom and her third grade son throughout the store.  At some point, he found a sun hat to try on, and he was parading around the store displaying his very festive find.  I liked them even more than I already did.  I mean similar conversations have happened before, especially in Dig n Save (the next level of thrifting, where all the clothes are in big bins you have to dig through).  I suspect that just during this time, I, and maybe the other customers, don't take it for granted like we used to.  

Some Shrinking May Occur

 

A few weeks ago, Benja was issued a teeny tiny h'orderves fork and the smallest spoon Zibbi could locate.  We all wondered aloud if he would get a bigger fork on his birthday, as he turned 16.  Zibbi declared that no, in fact, his fork would be getting even smaller.  I mean how much smaller do they go?  Barbie sized?  Maybe the Barbie platoon is helping her out.  Time will tell.

Costco Pick Up

I was waiting in line to check out at Costco, when the couple in front of my turned around and started pointing in my direction.  The woman then said something to me, which I could not hear nor understand due to our masks.  She stepped closer to explain that she and her husband were looking at the nuts behind me.  I quipped, "I thought you'd said, 'hey look, that lady is NUTS', and you aren't wrong."  She chuckled, then said, "You are delightful" and then, "I notice you aren't wearing a wedding band." (The FIRST person to notice since I stopped wearing it due to "ring rot" where the skin around your ring starts getting irritated.  Then, it became too small.  Maybe it shrunk?)  I stammered, "Oh, no, I AM married, for a couple of decades actually."  She told me she had two sons she was constantly on the look out to pair up.  One son had divorced two years ago and still has not dated since.  I suggested maybe he start Zumba, because as I recall those classes were almost all women.  The men attending get a lot of attention.  She didn't think that would work, she thought he would probably just be identified as gay in a Zumba class.  She lamented that he wouldn't even let her help him set up an online dating account.  (Weird, not wanting your mom to help with that.)  As she checked out, she shouted back at me, "Tell your husband that he has quite a catch!"  And of course, I DID.  Who knows he might start doing the Costco runs from now on.  Apparently, I am a hot ticket item there.  

Covid Vaccine!

Today I received my vaccine!  (I was sent an invitation after signing up through the Wisconsin Vaccine Registry.  I reserved a spot at noon.)  When I arrived at the Alliant Energy Center, there were signs leading me to a section of the parking lot where vehicles were being parked in long rows.  Every so often the parking attendant would instruct a row to drive.  So I waited in my car, windows down, breeze blowing and read my book as I waited.  It was glorious.  After a bit, my row started to move, and I quickly turned the car on, threw my book aside and put my mask on.  I followed the signs and at the end was an irate traffic guard yelling at cars.  Fortunately, I did not upset him, and proceeded to the lane he indicated, giving him a friendly wave as I passed.  Everyone inside the facility was efficient and friendly.  As I drove in, I had this wave of emotions, thinking of ALL the people in that huge area getting vaccinated.  That we were all protecting ourselves and our loved ones and each other.  How each of us played a part in ending this pandemic.  I felt emotional thinking of how wonderful it will feel to not feel so constantly afraid that I might pass Covid on to Benja (who has a number of risk factors), and Lotta, who has asthma which ALWAYS flares up for any respiratory illness.  The person who gave me the shot and I talked about how Zibbi had suggested I wear a sparkly tank top, to really announce to the world, "I am getting vaccinated today!"  The shot giver instructed me to go to the parking lot and wait 15 minutes to make sure I didn't have a reaction.  She said that if I did have a reaction, to honk my horn and put on my hazard lights and an EMT would come check on me.  As I exited the facility (another, maybe the same) traffic guard began screaming and shouting and waving his arms, trying to tell me where to go.  The more he screamed, the more I could not interpret which way to go.  I just kept driving in a somewhat straight fashion.  He reminded me of a traffic police officer Thom and I used to watch in Chicago.  She was constantly enraged.  Every single time.  We would go to a coffee shop on Michigan Avenue where we could watch her angry show.  Let me tell you that it is not as entertaining when you are on the receiving end of that anger.  Anyway, I kept driving (in the wrong direction).  And finally figured out where I was supposed to go.  At the other end of the parking lot, as I attempted to re-enter the line, was a quiet, fastidious parking attendant.  He was carefully and slowly parking each car.  The vehicle in front of me parked slightly over the line and he calmly requested they try again.  I carefully, carefully, pulled into the spot, I could not take the ire of another at that point.  When suddenly, the car behind me starting honking and honking.  And I thought, "Oh boy! What now?  Do they know I am from Missouri?"(Apparently, Missouri drivers are known as bad drivers because Driver's Education is optional rather than mandatory).  When I then realized the person behind me was having an allergic reaction to the shot, which made me first sigh a sigh of relief, then look up in alarm.  An EMT came rushing over and assisted him, he was fine, but his wife decided to drive him, rather than the other way round.  Finally, I went home.  Where Zibbi has been reminding me all day to drink water and move my arm.  (I let her know this morning that I am better at reminding others than myself to do those things. So, she's been helping me out.)  And boy oh boy am I exhausted.  Who knew a vaccine could be such an emotional roller coaster?

Expectation Levels Lowered

Next week is spring break.  I asked if anyone had ideas of what they'd like to do over spring break. Last year when I requested suggestions, everything was just beginning to shut down, and there was a lot of confusion of what was safe to do.  So, the responses were, "Oh, maybe we could go to Washington, D.C.?"  Or "Toronto"?  Just to test the waters.  We did not end up going anywhere.  This year when I inquired, everyone half halfheartedly responded with suggestions like, "Maybe we could take a walk around the block."  It was sappy (sad + happy).  I liked that they had completely changed their expectations within a year.  But geez louise, their expectations were now so incredibly LOW.  Lower than low.  Barely even qualifying as an expectation.  So I suggested maybe we could do a trip to the farm where they have baby goats to feed, if it is open (Zibbi LOVES feeding the baby goats, Lotta LOVES the IDEA of feeding the baby goats).  I hadn't expected their sparse a response, so I didn't really have a lot of plans hidden in my back pocket.  

Then, last night, we had a Walgreen's pick up to do and Thom asked if anyone wanted to go with him.  Lotta and Benja jumped up, high fived, and shouted in excitement and glee.  (You must understand that Walgreen's is maybe a mile from our home.)  Benja asked if they could take the "long way", and Thom responded, "of course".  We've told Lotta that we don't actually need to get a dog, as Benja is as excited as any puppy dog at the prospect of going for a walk or drive.  Who knew a year ago that going for a drive to Walgreen's would be the most exciting thing happening in our week?

Re-planning the Plans

 

Last Friday was a no school day.  We made a plan that after I conducted my workshop, I would take the girls to "crazy park".  There was jumping up and down excitement at that possibility.  When we arrived, there were a few people already playing, but there was still enough room to maintain 6 feet.  Very soon, as more people arrived at the park, it became too crowded to stay.  We decided we would try another park.  Then there was argument over WHICH park.  Finally, we concluded we should go home and grab the car so if the next park was also too crowded, we could easily and quickly try another park.  As we started walking home, there was a fight and things began to roll downhill (literally, Lotta was on rollerblades).  Zibbi started getting a stitch in her side and we decided she should rest for a bit.  We mapped out where we would try next, when Zibbi proclaimed that she was just not up for leaving again, and perhaps we could play in the yard instead?  To which Lotta responded by sobbing inconsolably and running upstairs.  (The whole scene reminded me of when Benja was little and so very many times we would have to change plans because of Ellie's health.)  We made a plan to try again on Saturday.  In the best of times, family life requires flexibility, a pandemic just adds an additional layer of altering plans when EVERYTHING already feels so rearranged.  

When Saturday arrived, predictably, Zibbi had absolutely no interest in going to a park.  I also had concerns that all the parks would be crowded on a beautiful spring Saturday.  So, once again, Lotta became discouraged.  As we were trying to sort it all out, Lotta's best friend texted to ask if Lotta might want to come over and socially distance hang out outside.  And I figuratively jumped for joy!  Because if we had gone to the park, Lotta would not have gotten the invite.  I responded, "Yes yes a million times YES!!"  And we quickly put on shoes and raced over to Sophie's.  Lotta and Sophie walked around the neighborhood, even going to the school playground to just be kids and enjoy each other's company for awhile.  In the end, it really DID all work out for the best.  

That Vacay Feeling

Today with a gloriously blue sky and temperatures reaching the 60s, we hiked at Aldo Leopold Nature Center.  So very many memories there.  One year we celebrated Thom's birthday with his parents there and ran into Lotta's best friend (and family).  Benja recalled how very long the trails used to seem, when his legs were shorter.  Another year, I was a chaperone for Lotta's field trip and it was raining.  Like seriously raining.  NONE of the children had rain gear.  The younger naturist announced, "Ok, let's go, we REQUESTED you bring rain gear."  (Because NO one had).  Luckily, an older and wiser naturist arrived, suggesting that perhaps the students could borrow some of the rain jackets they had on hand.  When we were outside, one of the students requested I help tie shoes.  As I bent in the rain, in the mud, there was a cloud of mosquitoes swarming around our legs.  I just did NOT need to know about those mosquitoes.  So many times as we slogged through the rain, I thought wistfully how much more Thom would be appreciating this particular field trip than me.  He actually LIKES the mud.  He used to PLAY in it as a child.  It took every

ounce of will power not to agree with the student who kept requesting that we go back inside.  I mean was collecting bugs from a pond REALLY worth all this discomfort??  As the rain, increased, our naturist, cheerily announced it was time to go on the hike.  She then noticed that the other groups were heading back inside, and I sighed a big sigh of relief as we all went back into the building to watch a planetarium show (I still am not completely certain what that had to do with anything else we studied that day.)  What I noticed today while we were there were all the noises--the distinct bird songs, the wind, the wind rustling through the trees.  Lotta climbed a tree, and then fell to get out of it.  We almost stepped on a snake, then found a nest of snakes.  Zibbi ran ran ran (she has this sometimes twisty run that reminds me of Ellie).  When we returned home, we ate brownies that were made as part of competitive bake off yesterday.  And suddenly, I was hit with that feeling of vacation.  That feeling where FUN is the most important ingredient rather than responsibility.  It was glorious.  

Snow Related Anecdotes

Lotta's teacher was chatting up the class before their zoom officially began this morning.  She asked who had played in the snow (it snowed yesterday).  Lotta said she had.  Her teacher inquired if the snow as pack-able, if she'd been able to make snowballs.  Lotta said that wasn't what they had been playing outside.  Her teacher, confused, then asked what they had been playing.  Lotta paused for awhile, and I chimed in, "It's COMPLICATED."  Ms. Cratic laughed and responded, "Oh there was a narrative involved."  

Then as Zibbi and Lotta were preparing to go out today.  Zibbi started to slip her gloves on and noted that the insides were still damp.  I explained how I had washed all the snow clothing from yesterday and the dryer had only dried the outside of the gloves, unfortunately, NOT the inside.  As I helped her adjust them, I almost said, "At least your hands will stay dry."  Luckily, I caught myself before I made that gaff.  Of course, I then had to share that was what I'd almost said.  So.  Yeah.  Was it last week that I wrote

about going to the park for the first time??