They're Not all Good Days

 They're not all good days. Sometimes it's a Monday and you didn't sleep well the night before. Sometimes your kids are not doing their remote learning and you have had to raise your voice more than three (hundred) times. 

Sometimes your kids put confetti in balloons and then they pop one of them and there is confetti all over your kitchen. Sometimes someone smashed an entire bag of peppers and said nothing.

Sometimes you question every decision you have made for the past almost 13 months. 

Sometimes your youngest climbs up onto your lap and snuggles and he doesn't smell bad and you drink it all in.

Sometimes it's enough. 

Turning 40

 This is the last weekend of my 30s. For the most part, I enjoyed my 30s. I had both boys in my 30s. Did some cool trips in my 30s. Moved across the country in my 30s. Made some amazing friends in my 30s.

For the past week, all I have been able to think about, in panic-inducing episodes of extreme anxiety, is about my mom. My mom is missing my 40th birthday. I'm sure she would have planned something low-key and perfect. She'd be so thrilled her girl is turning 40.

I'm going to be in the same decade she was in when she died. It's taken 21 years, but it's here. Every year takes me closer to the age she was when she died, but 40 is hitting me hard. It's one huge step closer.

A week after I turn 40, exactly one week, my mom would be turning 70. I'd be planning her an amazing birthday party. Or she'd be getting ready to go off on an incredible trip with her bestest friend. 70 would be an occasion, people. 

I feel guilty for not looking forward to my birthday. I mentioned not celebrating it at all, but the kids got very upset. Aiden loves birthdays. He wants to celebrate me. Even if I don't feel like celebrating me. I love his heart.

He inherited that from my mom.

Remote Learning Life

 We did remote learning in the Spring. I had some idea of what it would be like when we started the new school year remote. Or, I thought I did.

What I thought:

We'd have time for hearty, healthy breakfasts.

The kids would be doing assignments and have plenty of time to unwind.

The kids would be occupied so I could work and get stuff done around the house.

What reality is:

The kids eat cereal and frozen waffles almost every day.

There are so.many.meetings. Meetings all day. From 8 am to 2 pm. With a break for lunch.

Their meetings are not at the same time. Nope. Not at all. Which means their break is not the same. Which means one of the kids is always distracted and annoyed by someone else having a break. 

Some meeting times change from day to day.

Isabella's schedule is so much different from the boys. 

I get nothing done. Nothing. I oversee the boys all day long. Aiden needs help getting to meetings. Riley needs help staying on task. There is no working. Our house is...not where I want it to be.

I am on them all the time. Go to this meeting. Work on this assignment. Yes, you can go to the bathroom. No, it's not time for snack. Yes, you have to do math today. 

By the time Jeff gets home every night, I am exhausted and stressed and the kids don't want to be around me anymore. Honestly, the feeling is mutual. I crave silence. No more voices. Don't talk to me for an hour.

I know we're going to get through it. This was the best choice for our family. But man, it's rough. 

Send chocolate. Send alcohol. Send hugs.

Remote Learning 2020-2021 Day #2

 How Isabella thought the first day of 6th grade would go: pictures on the front porch,, riding the bus to school next to her best friend, new cell phone in her pocket, lunch money in her wallet, nerves and excitement warring within her.

How it actually went: pictures on the front porch, waiting for 11 am for her first remote class, no cell phone, seeing new faces on her computer screen in little boxes, more nerves than excitement.

My baby girl is a 6TH grader!! It's hard to believe she isn't my little shadow anymore. She's beautiful, smart, opinionated, overachiever, loving. I could go on and on. She has assignments due Monday and she's already finished two. That's MY girl.

The boys had a much better day, too. I'm still more exhausted than I have been since pregnant with Aiden seven year ago. My brain is done. 

Thank God tomorrow is Friday.

Remote Learning 2020-2021 Day #1

 Usually the first day of school entails a lot of pictures, hugs at the school, maybe a tear (not from the kids), and then anticipation of picking the kids up to hear about their day. This year was a little different. 

The boys started remote learning today. It hasn't been easy getting to this point. But here we were. We took pictures on the porch, and then went back inside to start our day. What a day.

Aiden was all over the place. He was the kid who balked at staying home. He is SOCIAL. He misses his friends terribly. Every day he tells me he wishes Covid would end. Sitting in front of a computer, even for a few short meetings, does not work well for him. 

But his classes worked. There were too many technical difficulties for Riley to even go into. He had a rough, emotional day. But both of his teachers seem amazing and are willing to work out the bugs. And he had therapy today, which was perfect. He went from the red zone (angry/frustrated) to blue (ready to go/happy) by the time he was done. 

He also got to go to his first soccer practice of the season. Sleep came quickly tonight 😂

Today was hard. I like things neat and organized. I do not thrive on chaos. There were a lot of tears (and they didn't all belong to the boys). I don't want to see another email ever (fat chance). I am exhausted and weary.

But I'm going to get up tomorrow and do it again. Maybe a little less enthusiastically, but I will do it. Riley told me that "tomorrow is another chance to have a good day."

If my nine year old ADHD/Impulsive/Sensory Processing disorder child can reset himself and believe tomorrow will be better, than so can I.

7/24/2020

Seven thousand, six hundred and seventy two days

I can’t stop counting the days

since you have been gone

twenty-one years seems so long

but also like yesterday

Seven thousand, six hundred and seventy two days

since you left us

the pain never stops

but only dulls

I can barely remember your laugh

Seven thousand, six hundred and seventy two days

sometimes I hear your voice in my dreams

but I don't remember your smell

sometimes I can feel your hand

but I can’t always bring up your face

Seven thousand, six hundred and seventy two days

since I saw you last

whole and smiling and alive

not in a white hospital room

every anniversary knocks me to my knees

Seven thousand, six hundred and seventy two days

you have missed too much

all I can do is tell the kids stories

and sing them the songs you sang me

but they will never feel your arms

Seven thousand, six hundred and seventy two days

since we started falling apart

you were the glue that held us together

and now we are shattered

you made everyone fall in line

Seven thousand, six hundred and seventy two days

And we don’t even talk anymore

there are holes in our hearts

there is emptiness in our souls

where you belong

Seven thousand, six hundred and seventy two days

7/24/2020

Quarantine Day #14

8:30 am: I overslept. Never heard my alarm go off. Or Riley turned it off so they could have more Kindle time. The world  may never know.

9:00 am: Threw cereal at the kids.

10:00 am: They are begging me for a snack. They have each completed ONE assignment and we need a break?

10:30 am: Aiden is on a video call doing his reading lesson. The other two are, of course, as noisy as possible.

11 am - 12 pm: Isabella is upstairs doing a class video call and check in with her teacher. Aiden has finished for the day until we do Art. He is bored.

12 pm: Lunch. Didn't they just eat?!

12:30 pm: Riley has a video class read aloud with his teacher. Thank God his mic is muted.

1 pm: It's SNOWING. Seriously?!

2:00 pm: They are all working on their Art assignment. Apparently the Art teacher hates parents because it's a watercolor project. Paint. Bowls of water. Papers. On my pretty dining room table because I have nowhere else for them to be.

2:45 pm: They are still painting. My anxiety can't take much more of this.

2:50 pm: Isabella spilled water on Aiden's paper. Furious tears ensued. Luckily, it didn't ruin his painting.

3:00 pm: Done painting and, you guessed it, they want more food.

4:00 pm: I had to take a nap. Stress headache, multiple anxiety attacks, no sleep. I needed a break. I let the kids have their Kindles back.

5:30 pm: Jeff gets home. The kids actually let me sleep for 1.5 hours. Thanks, Kindle babysitters. The kids want dinner. The dogs want dinner. I want a drink.

6:00 - 7:00 pm: Tub night horror show. Slamming doors, wasting water, complaining about me making them put away their own laundry. I'm not just mean. I am SUPER mean.

7:00 pm: Watching Detective Pikachu. Or pretending to, while wrestling, yelling, and eating popcorn.

9:00 pm: Running the dishwasher for the second time today. The kids are finally asleep. Jeff has passed out on the couch. Should I go to bed or watch Tiger King?

1:00 am: I am going to be dreaming about tigers for the rest of the night.

Stay heathy!