Wednesday, September 9, 2020

And Another Year Makes SEVEN: Quinn's Newsletter

Dear Quinn,

When I was nearly 13, my dad wrote and shared a beautiful letter at my Bat Mitzvah. He wrote about how a "wise man" once told him that every now and then he should sit down and write a letter to each of his children telling them what he thinks they will be like when they're older, and that, inevitably, he would almost never be right. I have been writing you and your brothers letters since before you were born - not because of my dad's story or the "wise man's" advice, but because I just like to let you know how I am feeling as I watch you boys grow up, to let you know my innermost thoughts about what I observe as a parent, to let you know what is on my mind and in my heart, and most importantly, to capture your youngest days - days that you may not remember but would want to know about, days that are "slipping through my fingers all the time" and faster than I'd like. And, so, I agree with my dad that parents should sit down and write their kids' letters. But, My Love, Big Boss was wrong. What I've learned from these letters is that from day 1, I have known my children and predicted exactly right what they would be like as they age. (Obviously, I could still learn differently as you get into teenage years or adulthood; therefore, I reserve the right to change my mind!) Within moments and hours after your birth, I knew many things about you that are still true to this day: you're a cuddler, a little bundle of love, wise and thoughtful, quiet but let your feelings be known, a good eater, determined and confident, an affectionate, sensitive boy who just wants to know he's loved and accepted. I want you to know that I see you. I see you so much, Quinn. Our bond is strong, I know what you're thinking before you say it, and you know me just as well. Your personality (just like your brothers') has been evident since we met, and while I can't know the future, I know that yours is so bright. Here's why:

  • You are so super smart. Like freakishly smart. School bores you and irritates you because it's boring and redundant, when you're a fast learner ahead of your peers. Reading at a fourth grade level, performing math beyond your years, able to reason and solve complex problems and puzzles, interested in history and the world. You're a thinker. You have the most beautiful handwriting and take pride in your work. If you have a weakness, I would say it's spelling, but I see that developing nicely as you get a better understanding of vowel patterns when it comes to "coding" words. Decoding isn't an issue, but writing your own words can be trickier.
  • You have the best sense of humor. You understand sarcasm, puns, irony, and analogies. You love to be silly and make up jokes.
  • You are always willing to share what's on your mind. Lately, you tell me you worry about dying and not wanting life to go so fast. You were sad to turn 7, because saying goodbye to 6 was a little difficult. You love that we do an I Believe before each birthday, reminiscing about the year and reflecting on all the things. You whispered to me last night as I was reading I Believe to you: "It's all the fun things we did this year. This makes me smile." And that's why I do it! 
  • You don't care what others think. You very often, inadvertently, put your shirt on backwards, and when I call your attention to it, you shrug it off and say, "I like it that way." You want me to paint your nails even if it's not a very "boy" thing to do, so when Banner calls you out on it, you say you don't care. 
  • You have a great understanding of what is fair and just. You do not like that anyone would be judged for believing a certain way, for looking a certain way, for their skin color or gender identification or religion and so on. Tonight, Dad drove you to pick up dinner for us, and you said as it rained heavily, "I feel bad for people who are homeless."
  • You are a little romantic! My favorite thing is when you put your hands on my cheeks to pull me in for a kiss. You give the best hugs (still called "Famous Quinn Hugs!"). You have a girlfriend (don't worry, I won't embarrass you by saying her name here), and you send her the sweetest messages. And she is so sweet right back. My favorite messages she's left you are the voice recording: "OH MY GOODNESS, I LOVE YOU!" and the text she sent you when you told her you were sad, she wrote, "You can't be. I love you." 
  • You still like to help me in the kitchen. While your desire to cook and bake with me has diminished a little because you're too obsessed with wanting to play video games, you want to learn more and find a sense of accomplishment when you get to make a meal.
  • You are so very gracious and appreciative. You have the best manners. It's not uncommon for me to only get a "Thanks, Mom!" from just you while your brothers completely ignore me. You're eager to apologize and make sure no one is hurt if you accidentally hurt someone or make a mistake or a mess. I love watching you jump up and down with this excited, wide-eyed, open-smiled grin and fist-pumping arms if you find out we're doing something fun or special. 
  • You can be stubborn! You will not let me pull those two front teeth or even let me wiggle them to entice them to get loose enough for me to yank. You won't listen when I tell you not to help Knox with something (usually a video game) and inevitably end up in tears because he's hitting you while telling you to let HIM do it. 
  • You can have quite a temper when things aren't easy or you don't understand or when you get frustrated (like with Lego instructions or getting the computer to do what you want). Usually this results in throwing things, hitting the couch or the bed, stamping your foot, making fists and swatting at the air, pouting then yelling then crying. Usually, you just need a hug and someone to help you reason, someone to remind you to breathe, to cool off, to look at the big picture, but I can feel your sense of frustration and despair in those angry moments. You feel those intensely. This is when I have to remind myself of your age, because you often times seem so old and so mature but then shut down like this, revealing how little you still are. 
  • You're either going through a growth spurt or you are bored out of your mind with virtual school, but you want to eat ALL.THE.TIME. "I'm still hungry," you'll tell me after a big dinner. "Can I have another snack?" during a Zoom session. 
  • Speaking of, you have loved at-home learning. We've been home for 6 months now, and you don't have much desire to go back to school in-person. You are content with your time at home. I do think you'd love to be back in-person to see your friends and go to PACE in person, but otherwise, you could care less about being back in the building. 
  • You're always willing to participate. This summer, I had several activities planned to help make our long days at home more fun. You were usually the only one willing to try them out with me: making our own ice cream, baking pretzels, trying out new challah recipes, making slime, making moon dough, testing out the tin foil river in the backyard, trying new games .... I have a feeling you didn't really WANT to do these things but saw that I was trying and wanting to spend time with you guys this way. Either way, you and I got some time together and created more memories, and for that I'm grateful!
  • You learned to tie your shoes and ride a bike this year. They weren't easy tasks, and you were reluctant that you'd succeed, but with some great pep talks and some growth mindset, you conquered those fears. Similarly, you conquered your fears of going down the zip line and then couldn't get enough of it! I love watching you build that confidence and find such joy in your accomplishments. 
  • Random facts about you: you sleep in your underwear and you'd prefer to never have to get dressed; you love to dance; you have growing pains more than your brothers; you hate ketchup; your favorite color is still "golden;" you flap your hands when you're excited or anxious/nervous (this is new in past 5-6 months); you love Legos; you love playing video games with your friends, cousins, brothers and most recently have begun bonding with Banner and his friends over Fortnite... you are nauseatingly obsessed. 

Quinn Redding, if I had to make a prediction about your future (as Big Boss says parents should do), I foresee that you'll be a loving, passionate, giving man. I think you'll make an amazing spouse to someone who will be lucky enough to receive the attention, affection, and sweetness you can offer so generously. I foresee you making sure that you and your brothers stay close, the glue to the three of you keeping your brotherly relationships intact. Without a doubt, you are the one who will take care of ME when I'm an old lady. You'll be the one to visit me the most and wipe my tush if I can't do it myself! You won't want to, but you'd do it for me. You'll have a good-paying job and will work reasonable hours at something you're really good at and something you really enjoy. You'll get your heart broken from time to time, because you are so sensitive and willing to lay your heart on the line, but when you love you'll love fiercely and thoroughly. Of that, I have no doubt. You'll be angry at the world for not being fair, but you'll do your best to understand it and change what you don't like. Are these my hopes? Yes, of course! But, I really do think you'll be such a success in so many ways. 

As "perfect" as I think you are sometimes, I know you aren't, and I don't want you to be. I want you to know it's okay to mess up, it's okay to be wrong, it's okay to have to work hard. You can be a little ball of anxiety sometimes, and you come by that naturally. And yes, I do worry about you, as all parents do for their kids, but I know you know I am always here for you. You sometimes say things that hurt my heart like when you told me earlier this year you don't like your voice (you thought you sounded weird in a recording, as most people feel about their own voices) or when you told me you wanted to change your name (luckily it was just to "Mr. Quinn," and that relieved me since I adore your name!!) or when you don't like to look at pictures of yourself as a younger kid. I love you so much that when I don't hear that love for yourself back it makes me hurt. Thankfully, last night after I said "No one loves you like I do," you replied with "Well, except me. I love myself a lot." Music to a mother's ears!! I want you to love yourself, and when things get tough and you aren't feeling as hopeful, happy, and strong, as our song says, "Even if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through hell with you. Love, you're not alone. I'm gonna stand by you." And I ALWAYS will. I couldn't love you more, my little middle squish! 

Happy 7th Birthday, Quinny-Quinn!

I love you more than you could ever imagine.

Love,

Mom










SEVEN "ATE" NINE!

This photo cracks me up. Q is eating B because SEVEN "ate" NINE. 
















Sunday, August 16, 2020

Four & A Half: Knox's Newsletter

 Dear Knox,

Your half-birthday always kind of sneaks up on me, as there is usually so much going on this time of the year. The summer winding down, gearing up for our anniversary, Quinn's birthday on the horizon, and the start of each new school year all happening at once. But, it's fun to stop and just reminisce half-way through your year. This will be my last mid-year newsletter to you. From 5 and on, I will only write once a year in this format. Of course, I always have other letters on specific topics that I write to you and your brothers, but this is the last mid-year letter that's specifically about your growth and development and changes. Usually I enjoy thinking back to the last 6 months of your year, but these past 5 months have been a bit of a blur. You see, we're in the middle of a pandemic, and COVID-19 has kind of taken over whatever plans we had these past several months. We've been cooped up at home, we've been around each other 100% of the time, and we haven't gotten to enjoy the typical activities we would have been otherwise doing. But, that doesn't mean we haven't had some fun, and it doesn't mean we haven't made some special memories. It also doesn't mean that there's nothing to say about YOU! You, my active little fireball, are one crazy kid, and I have a LOT to say about you!

Love this gorgeous face!

So, what have you been up to these last 6 months??

  • When the coronavirus first hit, you were worried and sad that you couldn't go back to school. Explaining all of this to you, during these early years in your life when you are supposed to be carefree and playful, has been really hard. You kept thinking everyone was going to die from coronavirus. You understood why we couldn't see family or have friends play, but sometimes you would take it too far - even saying that we couldn't get too close to you because, "coronavirus! Duh!" Now that we've taken a few steps to be around certain people, you've realized that we're really okay, but you also know we have to be cautious, wash hands, and wear masks. 
  • You miss your Anshai friends and teachers very much. You haven't been in the building since March 6th, and Spring Break just kept going! It was lovely when your teachers made special videos and we could watch them whenever we wanted. But, when Zoom lessons started to fill our days, you were annoyed and irritated at them. You hated getting online, and you told me the classes make you sad because it makes you miss real school more. This broke my heart, so we backed off of them since mid-April and pretty much stopped them altogether by May. 
  • As the summer passed, and corona didn't let up, we decided to withdraw you from Anshai in order for you to attend RISD PreK at the same building I work in. This is significantly less expensive, but it's also one less building to expose our family to. In addition, we just don't know what this school year will bring, and truth be told, if you are barely going to have school, we figure it's better to focus on academics and less on Judaica that we can teach you at home. I am extremely upset that we had to make this choice. It's a choice we never would have had to make if things were "normal." But, I'm also very excited to share a special school year with you... we get to go to school together this one year!!
  • Because we've been home so much, and especially as the weather has been so hot, you have spent an inordinate amount of time on a screen. You and your brothers have been allowed more screen time than all of us combined should be allowed in our entire lives. You and Quinn started the summer very obsessed with Animal Crossing on the Switch, then you moved to Super Smash Bros. You also like an Xbox game called Totally Reliable Delivery Service, which cracks you UP! You're happy to watch Kids YouTube and play Tom Gold Run for hours if we let you. 
  • You get really angry really fast. Your anger, your madness, your sadness, your frustration is all over your face, deep in your eyes, puckered in your lips, furrowed in your brows, and clenched in your jaws. You suck those cheeks in when you're especially angry or want to charge at your brothers. Your sad, pouty lips pull downward so naturally hard when you're sad. Your "hurt" cry has been the same since you were a toddler. I've always known a "hurt" cry and a "scared cry" from every other cry you could possibly make. 
  • We're working on letters and sounds, and you pretty much know all of them at this time. G and Y give you the most trouble, but you'll get them soon! 
  • You have the best vocabulary. Just like your big brothers, you never cease to amaze us at the words you choose to use. In addition, you are rather quick to pick up on expressions and sayings, and you use them very appropriately. 
  • You LOVE to be silly - to a fault. It can get really annoying when we are asking you to work with us on letters/numbers/sounds, you get really silly and won't give a correct answer even when I know you know. You enjoy creating jibberish sounds or names. You talk a lot about your butt. You like to dance silly and never smile nicely for a picture. 
  • You're whiny a lot of the time. You are NOT AT ALL patient and demand our attention! Man, the Zoom meetings I would have in the spring were very hard, because you would waltz in the room insisting I get you some apple juice or chocolate milk right away. I'd have to remove you from the room, and then get back to a Zoom call with the utmost (fake) patience. One time, I was on a call with my principal and assistant principal, and you came in crying for apple juice so much so, that when we started a faculty meeting later in the week, my principal said, "Before we start, Ms. Pierce, are we all set on the apple juice?" It was pretty hilarious, actually. But you are one heck of an apple juice snob. Just sayin.
  • You continue to have two volume levels: OFF and LOUD. You're either sleeping, or you are LOUD.
  • Well, I'll add to that. OR you are thoroughly enjoying a meal or snack. If you love a food, you'll be pretty quiet. But, if that food is not your favorite, we will hear about how "disgusting" it is. We will be told over and over again that you're not eating it. And, while we've made you try everything on your plate usually, you will fight it as long as possible and gag through the whole experience. 
  • Even really great smells are "stinky" to you. We've walked in to Amanda's house which smells amazing with challah baking or cookies cooling, and you will immediately say, "It smells disgusting in here!" or "What is that stinky smell!?" It's kinda embarrassing, but thank goodness for good friends who "get" you and know that's your way of just saying "I smell something."
  • I need to reiterate how LOUD you are. I just had to say that again. Like your outside voice is not even appropriate for outside. It's like several decibels above the norm, and the unintelligible wails and shouts while speaking to no one in particular are obnoxious when we're just trying to take a walk around the park or meet friends for bike riding in the circle drive. We might call someone to say hello or FaceTime with someone, and you are so freakin' loud that it's not even worth the call because no one can hear over your loud, jingly gibberish.
  • We've had to stop swim lessons since March. Luckily, you've gotten lots of time in Grandma & Papa's pool, and you finally learned how to come up for air and swim by yourself! You'll go back to swim lessons eventually, but I feel much better knowing you can breathe now!
  • You've become pretty scared of things recently. You don't like to sleep in your own bed by yourself and would prefer a brother sleeps in your bed or you sleep with one of them or in our bed. You CAN sleep in your room alone, but it makes you anxious each evening. 
  • You still have a nervous habit of taking your index finger and wiping it from the corner of your mouth back toward your mid-cheek. I can always tell when you're worried or anxious about something when you do this.
  • Words that start with L are still mispronounced: Yegos, Yittle.... and “animal” is still “aminal.” 
  • Some of your favorite things: pretzels, M&M yogurt, did I mention apple juice?!, watching Teen Titans, playing on any screen, nuggets, Handel's chocolate ice cream, swimming, jumping on the couch (which we cannot stand!!!), the stars in your bedroom at night, Wyatt L., lollipops, when I clean your ears, color baths, the color green, Milano cookies (adorably mispronounced “Lemanos” or “Lenamos” until you’re can remember what they’re called)
  • You really dislike: buckling yourself up, going anywhere by yourself, trying new foods, being interrupted by your brothers, sitting still, cleaning up
Knox Morgan, I absolutely hate that your school year got cut short, that you couldn't go to Camp Gan Izzy this summer, that you haven't been able to play with friends, that we haven't gone to your favorite places like Chuck E. Cheese's or Cheeky Monkeys, that splash parks and playgrounds and water parks didn't make it into our summer, that our June trip to Disneyland got cancelled and that you never even got to know about it. I hate that this time in your life will be stained with pandemics, politics, panic, and pause. It will become known as "the year you were 4," and it's such a pivotal year, the year of being the "fournado" you were supposed to be while surrounded by peers, social-emotional learning, and play. 

Yet, through it all, I'm so grateful that you have two older brothers to play with. Some kids don't have that. I'm so grateful you have been able to go to Grandma's pool, to play with Graham and George down the street, to have this amazing park literally behind our house, to have Daddy home more often (especially when he'd otherwise be gone a lot while campaigning), to have means to technology and to food and toilet paper and Clorox wipes. I count our blessings that we haven't had a financial hit, that we have family and friends that love to drive by to see us, that we can create our own fun here at home - sliding down the stairway on cardboard boxes, making our own PlayDoh, jumping on the trampoline, sliding down the Slip-n-Slide, creating our own Seder, splishing and splashing naked in the kitchen sink, Just Dance-ing, and creating safe paths when the Floor is Lava! 

I was most worried about you at the start of this pandemic, because you really need to be around kids your age, developing those social skills you'll use forever. You've seemingly come to enjoy being at home and having all of us here to play all the time, even if it means it can frustrate you when you don't get our attention immediately. I'm still worried about you, but you've taken this uncertain time and rolled with it. The year you were four ... it will certainly be one for the books. You may not remember much of it, I know. But, I hope at the very least you'll feel that we've made this time sacred and special, that instead of being "stuck at home," we've been tucked away all together, SAFE at home.

I love you, my Baby Love. 
Happy Half-Birthday!
Love,
Mommy


From my birthday
From my birthday

Thursday, July 2, 2020

The Current Situation

Disclaimer: This post is ALL over the place. It represents my mind. It represents where we are in the world right now. It represents the back and forth of the news, the information, the guidelines we are getting on a daily basis. And, I'm also (a little) sorry for my foul mouth... some of my colleagues, appraisers, former students, and nieces and nephews will read this. I have a feeling you won't mind! :) 

I'm just gonna go ahead and say it like it is: the current situation sucks for everyone. We are 4 months into the COVID-19 pandemic having become our newest reality as a country, and we still haven't figured out what the hell we are doing. While it's absolutely true that the virus is no one's "fault," the handling of it has been a shitshow since the beginning. I started a blog post in March detailing the timeline and how the shutdown affected so many of us, how we were dealing with "at-home learning" (which was anything but), and how we were managing to survive those early weeks. Then, I got bored with my post and trying to keep up with the ridiculous rants (i.e. "press conferences") the president had on a daily basis, trying to find the time to write when I was so overwhelmed with managing three little boys and a PART-TIME job (ha, again, anything but... where's the eyeroll emoji on here?), and trying not to lose my mind in the anxiety it was all causing. So, I'm going to skip all the backstory we all already know.  I'm going to skip to the current situation and give my take on it. No one asked me, I know. But, maybe this post will help me sort out my thoughts and if so, maybe it could help you sort out yours... maybe?

In less than 10 days, I am supposed to make a decision for my children on which I have very little guidance. No parent or grandparent alive today has had to make this decision. People who don't have to make the choice are relieved they aren't the ones making it. I'm supposed to decide if I will send my three young children to school in August. I'm supposed to make this decision based on what exactly? The bare bones of a plan that can't be easily understood by any parent - including highly educated educators like myself? The guidelines keep changing, the data keeps changing, the requirements keep changing...  we're at all-time highs for people testing positively for COVID-19, more people are hospitalized, more people are dying. But by all means, let's make parents decide if they want to send their kids out into the world in the hopes that they'll stay safe.

But kids don't really get this, we've been told.
Well, they could bring it home to their grown-ups.
But kids can get this, we've been told.
Well, they recover pretty quickly.
But kids can get really sick, we've been told.
Well, it's only a few; it is so rare that happens.
But we don't really know the lasting effects, we've been told.
Well, that's true about staying home, too.
But, they're better off at school where they can get their social/emotional needs met, we've been told.
Well, not if they are so worried about getting sick.
But, they'll fall so far behind if they don't go, we've been told.
Well, isn't their physical health more important than learning?
But, kids don't really get this.... 

It's all a disaster of counter-opinions. Well, all the kids will wear masks. Or maybe they won't. Or maybe they'll try, but they're kids, so they'll put their hands all over their masks. They'll pick their noses, they'll sneeze all over each other, they'll cough and wipe boogers and trade sandwiches at lunch. Oh wait, they can't go to lunch... they'll eat at their desks? Okay, so they'll play at recess... but 6 feet apart. And they should spend as much time outside as they can, but only when the heat index is less than 95, which is never in Texas in August or September. So, they'll stay inside, which increases their chances of getting COVID. Well, at least they'll be 6 feet apart. Or maybe they won't. It depends on how many parents actually send their kids to school. Maybe more people will keep their kids home... and that will be great, so those who are left at school will have less people to actually interact with - the whole reason I wanted them to get out of the house in the first place - to be with peers. But, that will be good for the teachers if fewer kids come, since no one - NO ONE - has asked how they feel about going back to work in this pandemic. They're expected to work. And they should want kids to come, right?? I mean, that's how schools get funded. We should want kids to come? Or we shouldn't? I'm confused. Wait, if we all go back to the classrooms, then who is doing the virtual classrooms for kids who stay home? Do I even go to work? Do I stay home with kids that I might want to keep home? Or do I not have that option? What happens if I send them to school and someone in their class is sick - or the teacher gets sick? Do we shut that class down? The school? 

It's too much and it's unfair to ask parents to make this decision. Oh, but that's what makes us the land of the free, right? Go ahead, start your damn political argument. Please. Please make this fucking PANDEMIC a political issue. The health and safety of our communities are definitely up for debate, apparently. Yes, we as parents ultimately have the final say no matter what. Before this pandemic, we were able to make these decisions for our kids - to send them to public school, to private school, to charter schools, to co-ops, to boarding schools, to homeschool. But, this? This is different. THIS is the superintendents and school boards not having a CLUE what they are doing... not because they aren't capable, but because they aren't getting the information THEY need from the commissioner. The education agencies can't pass anything along because they don't have a CLUE what to do, because they aren't getting what they need from the governor. And, the governor doesn't have a CLUE what to do, because he doesn't have what he needs from the fucking president. That's right. If the damn quack at the top would have handled this (or would START to handle this) like a G..D... leader, perhaps we would all be in a better place. No, no... don't get the wrong idea. I'M not trying to make this political. HE did that. HE made public health a political issue. He had the opportunity of a lifetime. The chance to be the miracle worker he thinks he is and turn this country around. He could have made mask wearing mandatory, could have told governors to shut it down tight for a month, could have followed the many countries who were affected long before we were, could have learned lessons from mistakes other leaders made, but no, now we are all in this fucking mess. Now parents all over the country are having to make this same decision for their kids, and they have NO CLUE how to do that.

So, because the top can't grow a pair and tell everyone how to get our shit together, everyone is scrambling, waiting, and passing the buck. Who does this affect? Yes, parents. But, more importantly, our kids, because we are blubbering messes at home trying to decide what the hell we are doing with their next several months if not longer. Do we pay that tuition for preschool, only to fight the 4-year-old on sitting still during Zoom lessons in November when they inevitably shut the school down? Do we give in to the rising first grader who wants to stay home from school because learning with Mommy is better and school is so boring? Or is that not really what this is about? Do we send the fourth grader because, even though he could get sick, our relationship suffers when Mom is the teacher and all I get is eyerolls, grunts, and attitude? Do I keep the boys home while I go to work, bring home whatever I've been around all day, and hope that Sam can manage a law practice, running for judge, and the kids while they're "learning?" Is this what it comes down to? We can either work or we can have kids? We can't have both anymore?

There are no easy answers. Well, there are. But no one wants to hear my 2 cents. 

Oh, you do? Okay, well, if it really comes down to the agony so many of us are feeling as parents in making this decision, (and I realize many aren't... some have already made up their minds to either send or not send their kids), I think we'd all be willing to compromise a little. Why are we not sending kids for half a day? Let's say a teacher gets 22 kids in her class (that's about what a K-3 class has in Texas). 11 of those kids can opt or be assigned to come in the AM class (say 7:45-11:15), and the other 11 can opt or be assigned to the PM class (say 11:45-3:15). Specials could be every other day ... not ideal, but we definitely don't want to shaft music, art, and PE. Special services can still be given during these times, too. 

Okay, not an easy answer, because no, I don't know how that would work for middle and high schools due to electives, but it would certainly make sense for elementary schools to work this way. I'd rather my kids get SOMETHING for a short bit than nothing. It would allow for meals to be given, it would allow for teachers, counselors, and administrators to check in on students' mental, physical, and emotional needs, and it would allow in-person instruction that kids were so desperately missing in March, April, and May. Parents are working? Well, that's a problem, I know. But, this is an option for people who are baffled by what to do. Perhaps some campuses could offer this middle ground. 

FFS, there is a global pandemic going on. It's a crisis, an emergency situation. We need to be flexible and try new things. I just have such a problem with making this impactful decision for the tiny people I love more than anything in the world, especially when I have barely ANY information to go off of. I'm managing information coming from two different school districts right now, and neither of them outline what the day will REALLY look like for the kids - because they don't know, and they can't know. And, they can't make good decisions until we parents make ours. But we can't - because it's all vague and brings questions and can't really be clarified yet. And the irony of it all - it could change in an instant, and everything could close before we even get to Day 1.

Every day we as parents make decisions for our kids: can they stay up past bedtime, can they have that soda this one time, can they play Fortnite, should I call the derm about this rash, should I allow more screen time, do I send him to time-out for that, does he like soccer enough for me to reenroll him -- I mean he just stands there!, when IS the right time to get him his own phone, should we medicate or wait it out, should I walk him back to his bed or let him climb in mine? EVERY FUCKING DAY we have to choose between doing what is RIGHT and doing what is EASY. That's the hardest part of having kids. And, here we are, with yet another decision, only this time it affects the whole community. Do.I.Send.My.Kids.To.School?

Friday, June 26, 2020

This is 40!

Dear Amber,
You're always writing letters to the kids about what they are like at their ages; why not do the same for yourself? It's about time you do for yourself what you do for others, so here it goes. Happy Birthday! You are 40 fucking years old! How is that even possible when you still feel like the 17-year-old kid on top of the world? You know you are so much wiser than that girl, but you really aren't any different. It's like Grandma once said... at 70-something years old, she still felt the same as when she was 20, and now you totally get why that's true. It's hard to believe so many years have passed and all that has happened in what feels like a really short amount of time.

You have an amazing life. No mid-life crisis happening around here! You are married to your college sweetheart - and high school best friend. Sam and you have grown together even more as life continues to throw challenges, bring joy, and command change. Just like you told Rabbi Stern from the very beginning, your greatest strength is communication, and that keeps you both in check. You have three brilliant, kind, and gorgeous sons who are the center of your everything. Every decision you make has them at the forefront. Every single day, they annoy you, inspire you, challenge you, drain you, and keep you coming back for more. Your home is a constant circle of messy and clean and back again, but you realize how very fortunate you are to have the things you have, the space you have, the ability to worry about its function and appearance. We are fortunate to have the things we want, but we also dance with months of no paycheck enough to not take it for granted. We are not good at saving, and we rarely have enough to feel as financially secure as we want. Yet, we make it work.

You have the love and support of your family nearby. You've been able to have care for your kids from the people who love them the most when you need to be away. You know if you ever needed anything, your family would be there for you in a heartbeat. You text Mom and Kira nearly daily and talk to Mom at least every other day if not more often. You can call her for cooking help, for parenting advice, and just to check in on her thoughts about the daily news. You don't take that for granted and know how special she is, as well as your relationship with her.

You are getting more and more grey, and you care less and less. Your skin is getting drier, your vision is blurrier, and chin hairs are on the rise. When you stand up too fast, you get dizzy and see white. You've been told this is orthostatic hypotension, and there's not a lot to do for it but to be careful. You come by it genetically. Your sun worshipping from your high school days are definitely showing now, and those once-cute freckles are now sunspots that annoy you.

Your lower back hurts every morning. You have been going to a chiropractor for help, but it's not much improved after 6 weeks now. With activity, stretching, and movement, you are usually just fine, but waking each morning is painful. You are still too young to be feeling that "old," so you'll continue to figure this out, but so far, nothing is better. You also sweat when you sleep these days - and can wake up drenched. You definitely prefer a fan literally right in your face, and you question whether you are going through menopause quite often.

Your thoughts at night center around the to-do items of tomorrow: pick up clothes from the dry cleaners, cut the boys' nails, get car inspected, pay the lawn guys, send graduation gifts, plan Q's birthday party, organize K's clothes, change sheets, grocery pick-up, meal plan, file boys' artwork, pick up meds, etc. You have a constant list of things to work on, remember, do, or prepare. It's hard to really ever relax, as your mind is constantly going and moving on to the next thing. Especially as the kids are little, you feel like you want to stop time and capture every moment, but it happens so fast it just slips through. You are very efficient and manage your time really well, but it leaves little time for relaxing.

You don't drink alcohol. You don't drink coffee. You don't do drugs. Friends don't understand how you stay sane. You need a chocolate fix every now and then, and the lowest dose of Zoloft has helped ever since a postpartum depression battle after Knox was born. But, mostly, you're just a constant planner, maker, doer. You have checklists and schedules; you and Sam "calendar" weekly to keep organized and coordinate tasks.

You really enjoy part-time work. It allows you to be in the "real" world with professionals, to feel like you're contributing to the greater good, to make a difference in kids' lives, while it also allows you to be at home taking care of your own family and yourself. Your days "off" might be spent emailing or doing "work," but it's your time to take care of whatever is stressing you out, get something done for yourself (like working out or watching a show), and get ahead on housekeeping or chores while the kids are at school. The work/life balance is optimal, so when full time work was offered last month, you found it easy to choose the part-time option, even though it meant you had to switch schools. Plus, you're coming "home" to Bowie this fall, and that is very exciting!

You are more politically active than you have ever been in your life. That isn't saying much, given how unnerving the current political climate is and has been for 4+ years. More and more people have been finding themselves more interested in educating themselves given how hostile things have gotten. But, with Sam's 2018 congressional campaign and now his judicial campaign, you and Sam find yourselves in the thick of political discussion and activism quite deeply. You have made friends who are likeminded and who want to be as involved as you are. You are passionate about teaching your kids to have a voice, to pay attention to what's going on in the world, and to vote. The kids now go with you to vote, they have their own candidates they would like to see win elections, and they know why voting is so empowering and is so important.

Along those lines, you have such strong convictions and are incredibly close-minded to close-mindedness. Yes, ironic. But, that's the most raw way to say it. You believe in every person's right to an opinion until that opinion stifles others. That's where you draw the line, and that often makes you unable to be accepting. You don't understand why anyone would want to take away a woman's right to all medical procedures, including abortion, or their ability to love whomever they want and not be penalized for it or the ability to identify as man or woman or anywhere in between or neither and not be discriminated against, or the ability to be free FROM religion as much as we have the freedom OF religion. You believe it's fine if businesses want to buy or not buy from certain vendors, even if you wouldn't do the same. You believe we don't live in biblical times, and in these modern times, there's no longer a need for a "Jewish state"... even though you strongly support Israel and want to see it survive as a nation. We can have it both ways. You believe Black Lives Matter. You believe the path to citizenship should be easier, and we should not be mistreating people who seek to save their lives. You believe in science, and you believe the earth is dying because we are killing it. You believe health care should be easily accessible for every human and that going to college shouldn't cause the amount of debt it has for so many students. You believe in freedom, which means others may say or do or think something different than you. And while that is totally fine, you cannot stand by when those opinions suppress other people. It's really hard for you to NOT say something, even when NOT saying something would be best. You often feel that Republicans/Conservatives only care about themselves and want to control the freedoms of others. It's hard for you to get past that selfishness or to understand it.

At 40, you are not religious, but you are observant. You want your children to grow up with the same Jewish values that the customs, culture, and traditions teach. Kindness, gratitude, care for self and others, healing the world, giving, social justice, and peace - those are important in your home, and the Jewish holidays, teachings, and ideas help instill those. The community you are a part of is special, and you want your children to feel connected to and inspired by it. Sunday school attendance, participation in Greene Family Camp, and the deliberate inclusion of Jewish holiday customs help you and your family stay grounded in what is important when it comes to religion. In your home, it's okay to question God, to question why we do what we do, to think critically about what is right and what is true. There's no blind faith here; we ponder and ask and reflect. You don't believe God is in control, but instead believe God created and gave free-will to make choices and decisions for yourself. When you've been most desperate, yes, you pray and hope and beg for the best outcome, but ultimately, life is challenging. It's unfair and unpredictable and doesn't really care how hard it is for you. You believe all you can do is your best, all you can do is give and feel gratitude for what you do have, and most of that has nothing to do with faith.

Your parenting philosophy is embedded in honesty, acceptance, inclusion, and high expectations. You're hard on your kids, but you have no doubt they can rise to meet your demands. At the same time, you've learned to chill and recognize it's silly to sweat the small stuff and "this too shall pass." You don't take everything as seriously as you did years ago, and each child has made you a better mother. You can completely understand why birth order traits exist. You are most challenged by Banner, and he seems to need the most attention. You and Quinn gel best and he's the "easiest" at this point in time, but because of that, you often forget to give him the attention he deserves. Knox gets away with murder because you are too damn tired to care anymore by this third kid, and at the same time, you don't give in to his tantrums or fuss because your skin is thicker by now. You pick your battles and decide what makes you want to stand your ground on certain issues over others. Compared to raising an infant, parenting is 1,000 times easier physically at this point, and it's probably 10x easier emotionally. Where it's 20,000 times harder is the mental anguish - the constant second-guessing about how to discipline, where to set the limits, how to draw the line, and best preparing your kids for the future, or hell, the present! Figuring out how to give them independence but within your own comfort level is a challenge. You also take their lead with discussing hard topics, but you are very honest with them about the world.

Your schedule: You wake up whenever the kids force you to get up. During this COVID-19 pandemic, you have no set schedule, so you've been able to take it slow in the morning, which is nice. But, ultimately, someone demands breakfast sooner than you'd like, and you have to pry yourself out of bed. You try not to eat until you can't stand your hunger in the morning and have a Premiere Protein Shake for breakfast (only 2 SmartPoints on the WW plan!) and usually a banana. Then, you'll eat lunch at noon, dinner at 6, and eat way too many snacks in between there as you self-medicate with food to make it through the day. You lost 35 pounds on WW over a year ago, and the pounds have slowly crept back since Halloween last year. Not totally sure what happened, but this coronavirus quarantine and lack of gym opportunities hasn't helped much! You are allowing yourself this birthday to indulge, but tomorrow you are back in control and "cutting the crap" again - a birthday present to your future self. Gotta get back on track, girl! Anyway, you go to bed way too late - as staying up late allows you more time to yourself, even if you pay the consequences the next morning. Your favorite time of day is when the kids go to sleep, you get Sam to yourself, and the couch is the most appealing with the TV on whatever show you two want to enjoy uninterrupted.

Speaking of, your current favorite shows are ... varied: Grey's Anatomy, Walking Dead, Handmaid's Tale, A Million Little Things, Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, This is Us, and Real Time with Bill Maher. This past week you started watching Mrs. America, and your feminist perspective is once again reaffirmed. You don't really have a favorite movie, but something hit you with the most recent Little Women this past winter. Tears and tears, which are more and more rare these days. You don't cry as easily as you used to. There used to be times when you'd lean over Banner's crib or sit outside his bedroom listening to his lullabies and just sob - thinking about how much you loved this boy, how very lucky you are to have him, and how you knew how fast his infancy would speed by. Now, while you still have those same feelings about embracing parenthood and your love for each of your boys, you just don't cry as much. Maybe it's the Zoloft, or maybe it's being tired and exhausted by the end of the days, but the tears don't come as readily as they once did - and sometimes you miss that.

Too often, you put yourself last. You can't even think of a favorite song because you usually only listen to your kids' music. You get lost in your kids some times - only cooking for them and not you, only planning for them and not you, catering to their needs, not your own. Putting yourself first takes more effort and energy - like continuing to go to Pound class, for instance. You loved that class, but it was hard to get out the door even just that once a week. And while it shouldn't really be that way, this is 40.

40 is wanting your kids to be able to go to sleep without you, but really liking the bedtime talks and cuddles.
40 is telling your kids to get off the screens but internally loving the silence it's allowed you while they're on it.
40 is having survived being puked on, peed on, pooped on and knowing you can get through it again.
40 is cleaning up toothpaste off the counter, the mirror, the floor, the sink, the stools, and even the toothpaste tube itself as it's caked up so much at the tip, the fresh supply can't make its way through!
40 is wanting desperately to hang out with your girlfriends but being too damn tired to get dressed to go out.
40 is yelling "Close the door!" "Stop walking around with food!" and "Flush the toilet," like a thousand times a day.
40 is finding a whole new world of friends through the parents of your kids' friends.
40 is going to the grocery store just so you can have a moment to yourself.
40 is getting in the shower for 5 minutes of alone time, only for a preschooler to come into the bathroom, strip, and get in the shower with you.
40 is wondering how old is too old for him to have a monitor in his room.
40 is worrying about your parents' health more than your own kids'.
40 is picking boogers, pulling teeth, popping pimples, pulling splinters, and cleaning ear wax - and none of it is yours.
40 is feeling the ending to your childbearing years, when you know you don't want more, but you image just one more.
40 is being there when friends bury their parents, end their marriages, lose their jobs, or suffer miscarriages.
40 is signing up for teacher conferences, signing up to chaperone field trips, and signing away your life savings for karate lessons.
40 is loads of laundry, stacks of dishes, and long grocery lists.
40 is having friends diagnosed with cancer and fighting for their lives.
40 is wishing you could go back and do it again, do it better, because you know more now.
40 is wanting to be intimate with your husband but falling asleep waiting for the kids to fall asleep.
40 is banging mud off cleats, cleaning icing stains off shirts, finding library books under the couch, and stepping on Legos at anytime anywhere.
40 is knowing who your friends really are and who they aren't and being okay with all of it.
40 is coercing a 4-year-old that there are no such things as monsters, then answering your 9-year-old's questions about racist monsters.
40 is realizing that your magic is slowly fading - as your kisses don't always fix boo-boos and you don't know how much longer you're employed as the Tooth Fairy.
40 is deciding what type of grass you want in your yard, what color you want the siding painted, and if you should invest in a power washer.
40 is fixing goggles, checking homework, making lunches, sounding out words to spell, and finding missing shinguards.
40 is speaking your mind and not putting up with bullshit anymore.
40 is being much more excited about your kids' birthdays than your own.

You've really struggled most of the day today, but you couldn't figure out why. Truth be told, you still can't. Could it be the current pandemic and the inability to truly celebrate? Could it be you don't feel any older but 40 sounds so old? Could it be that June 26th used to be your favorite day of the year, and now it just feels so overrated? You hadn't been that stoked for it. Then, out of the blue, Sam saved the day with his awesome plan to celebrate! He gave you quiet time so you could write this post (which has since been edited to add this part!), then Quinn came up and told you that you could join them for dinner downstairs when you were ready. Sam had ordered Benihana for dinner - since you usually do hibachi dinners on your birthday, and it was delicious! The boys had Chili's for dinner - and with that you were able to have the best dessert in town: a molten chocolate lava cake. A bit later, Sam wanted all of you to go on a family walk - not unusual for these days in quarantine. You were going to take a photo with Quinn, when all of a sudden, Sam threw his hand over your eyes, scaring the bejeezus out of you. He said, "Just trust me." As two women on the walking trail passed by, Sam said to them, "This is totally legal." You went with it, and once he got you to the field behind the house, he uncovered your eyes to see a sea of faces you love so much (well, half of them-- they were wearing masks). Such a sweet surprise and overwhelming feelings of love and joy! You loved seeing all these family members and friends. And that completed your birthday! He finally succeeded in surprising you, and it was awesome!

You hadn't been excited for this birthday. But, your mom says, "It beats the alternative," and that is 100% accurate. You really don't want your life any other way. (Okay, that's not true; you want your kids to stop using the damn screens so much and to stop arguing with you, and for this coronavirus pandemic to go away, and Trump to get booted from office.... , but you get the point.) Life really is good, and there is so much to be thankful for, to be proud of, to grow from, to love and adore, to cherish and uphold. Those faces in the crowd tonight reminded you of how loved you are and how much you love and have to give. Through cards, texts, calls, Facebook posts and messages, you've read some of the sweetest words about you: how giving your heart is, how grateful people are that our paths have crossed, how special you are to them, how happy you make them. These friends and family prove to you that these first 40 years have been successful.

You'd like to propose that instead of saying "40 years old," we start saying Level 40. So much better sounding, right? You are at Level 40 of this Life Game, and you have earned it! Your kids are only at Level 9, 6, and 4 - so you have SO much wisdom and experience well above them, and that doesn't make you "old," it makes you advanced. Level 40 is not the new Level 30 - it's better; it's wiser, it's stronger, it's tougher. So, go out there, Am, and make Level 40 the best level yet!

Happy Fuckin' 40th!
You got this!
Amber


















 These are the faces that make 40 ah-mazing!