October 3, 2022
Year 3 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Year 3, Day 192: Mondays are always hard with the combo of solo-parenting plus working but today my brain decided to up the ante with stress nightmares that woke me at 3 am and then the pain kicked in at high force so I couldn’t go back to sleep for hours. Ruff. PiC took the kids in the morning so I could rest a tiny bit longer at least. He also ended up staying home to help me get through the day.
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This post landing in my inbox was perfect timing. I’d recently gone through a pile of foreign currency and was pondering how to exchange it all: HOW TO EXCHANGE OLD BRITISH POUNDS FROM THE U.S.
I wonder if I can do the same with other foreign currency.
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Year 3, Day 193: A most annoying discovery: our wood underbed storage can’t be in contact with fabric or it’ll start to mildew. Mildew EVERYWHERE. I gathered all the jumbo bags that came our way over the years and put everything I’d begun to store there in sealed plastic bags, but it’s still not enough for that space to be truly useful. Grump. I avoid accumulating new plastic wherever possible but it doesn’t seem avoidable in this case. Either we don’t use the space I need at all or we buy more jumbo plastic bags. It’s not a tall space, it’s about 6-8 inches tall, so bins won’t fit. I’m sitting on a Target order in hopes there’s a better idea that will come.
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September 26, 2022
Year 3 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Year 3, Day 185: Today, the timing worked out better for me to take Smol Acrobat for their PCR test so off we went early to the test. I’d wondered how it’d go. They have been very resistant to nose swabbing for a few weeks and we’ve tried to help them by doing our COVID tests in front of them to pique their interest. They’ve been interested enough to ask to swab themself the last few days, so while they mildly objected to today’s test, they didn’t fight it. Whew. I also appreciated the person at the gas station who commented that the pump I’d pulled up to didn’t work, just wait a minute for him to finish, and the other person at the stop sign that waved me through when we arrived at the same time.
Tiny things but little pips of positivity that I’m absorbing to offset the day we have: COVID, early school dismissal, taking JB to a new afternoon class four days this week.
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“You really are insane, you know that,” Schmidt said, after a moment.
“I always think it’s funny when people get told what they are by other people,” Wilson said. “As if they didn’t already know.”
From Scalzi’s The Human Division. Sometimes we don’t, though! Sometimes we have buried our deepest selves under a narrative that we can live with because we’re not able or ready to face who and what we are yet.
Related to this: Sometimes the Okini coordinators say nice things when we finish up a complex family’s needs and it makes me feel guilty. Like, I shouldn’t be thanked. I shouldn’t do this for thanks! I don’t do it for thanks. But I don’t know why I feel guilty for unsolicited thanks.
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Year 3, Day 186: Smol was apparently exposed to COVID last week. Their 5 day testing date was on Sunday but because the hospital didn’t do any PCR tests on Sunday, we had to take it on Monday.
We lost a precious daycare day today because Smol’s PCR test results didn’t come back negative until the afternoon. Our back up plan, their morning RATs, came back with faint positive lines. Both of them! Argh. It was altogether strange, the testing situation, and quite annoying to lose a paid for daycare day.
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I had an unsettling thought today: Offline, I keep my complaints to myself. This was a defensive tactic. Sharing my discontent was a weakness that would be exploited by at least one asshole in my life (generally my brother). But what if not allowing complaints as an adult has meant depriving myself of even the notion that I could get help? This should have occurred to me much sooner given how, if I finally was overburdened enough to complain at work, my boss would only then actually KNOW that I needed help and offer support. Duh?
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Reading this book to Smol, I was struck by how much I hated this sentiment:
I deeply love and miss my quiet time during the day, when I’d usually get all my work and household management and money work done. I love my solitude, even as I love time with my family in non-pandemic amounts. But I hate the anticipatory feeling or expectation that once the kids have grown and left, I’ll feel empty and alone in a way that isn’t particularly happy.
I suspect my underlying fear isn’t that I’m not a full person without the kids, but rather I’m not a full person because of my limitations. The kids mask the real problem by keeping me too busy to care as much how broken and like half a person I feel. Bet you $5 that if I didn’t recognize this problem, I’d become that controlling parent that expects her kids to keep her fulfilled and busy because she can’t do that on her own. I know a few of those moms (who are much older and still don’t have lives of their own). I mostly see that in moms I know, because dads still get to have their own lives even if kids are in the picture and moms “have to” sacrifice everything, even their personhood, to motherhood. I don’t want that.
But it feels like I’ve lost much of it anyway to my physical limitations and that’s both sad and scary.
Year 3, Day 187: Smol Acrobat had a really good dropoff, no tears, just a little distress but a manageable amount. My heart feels so much less burdened by this. They’re (mostly) eating ok, they’re sleeping ok at night, and now they’re doing ok going to daycare. I’m so relieved!
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I’m pretty exasperated that apparently one of the places that we donated to must have sold our name and address, because we are now getting a new influx of Jewish and Israeli solicitations for donations.
I’m also exasperated that JB can’t come home from school and be NOT a pill more than two days out of the week. They didn’t even LIKE Monday’s self defense class that repeats today. We told them this morning that since they already had a clear preference for the Tuesday / Thursday class, we wouldn’t go to the Wednesday class. They agreed, especially since that meant freeing them up to go pick up Smol from daycare. And yet when I reminded them of this in the afternoon, I get a big dollop of attitude/whining. UGH.
I walked away after telling them to get their after school chores done, I’m taking some time and space before I really lose my temper. har-UMPH.
*****
Year 3, Day 188: A good day! PiC and I snuck away for an incredibly rare child-free outing. We explored the Ferry Building, always a favorite of mine, which has changed so much since the last time we were there.
We shared a dozen oysters and picked up an armload of goodies to bring home: empanadas, cheesecakes, porchetta sandwiches, and sous vide carnitas. I didn’t even stress about the $18 parking.
The weather was perfect. Sunny and warm and just a touch of a breeze. We were out exactly as long as I had energy for: about an hour. We came home to a surprise food delivery. More food!
We had to work, still, and did. But I also had a call with an old friend to catch up on their adventures, a tradition that goes back twelve years or so. Back then, she and PiC were two of three people who remembered my birthday. More people remember these days, including a few people I don’t particularly want to hear from, but I appreciate these deeply personal tiny traditions.
Year 3, Day 189: During Smol and my outdoor time, our neighbor and her puppy stopped by to say hello. The puppy has grown a lot! Also Sera came out for a romp. It’s amazing to see her interact with a puppy in a mature adult dog way. Such a fun way to start our day.
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TIL Smol Acrobat knows how to blow raspberries. I was the target of a massive series of raspberries attacks. They couldn’t stop giggling.
They’re also really taking to building blocks now. I was responsible for handing them blocks during their build period and quickly learned they have specific preferences for specific blocks for their building vision.
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Speaking of class and weirdness, it’ll never not be weird to me to hear JB talking to their classmates trading summer/winter vacation stories: Disney, Tahoe, Hawaii, Vancouver, etc.
Those were nothing but words to me at that age, not actual places that actual people could afford to go!
Also other things I overhear: I have 42 Hatchimals!
JB: I only have 1!
Classmate: WHAT?? YOU ONLY HAVE ONE??
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My entire body was lava muscles by the end of the night so PiC Hypericed the heck out of my back. Then we just laid on the ground for an hour talking about stuff. Birthday party logistics, my friend’s travel shenanigans, what the kids think of us, my therapy. We haven’t had time to just sit and talk like this regularly since COVID started. Conversations are squeezed in minutes here and there around the million other things that need doing. It almost feels weird but I’m glad we got that little respite.
September 19, 2022
Year 3 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Year 3, Day 178: My subconscious has been working overtime, throwing up increasingly worse scenarios in my nightmares. Is this a response to the global and the personal stresses all piling up?
Today’s nightmare was becoming paralyzed and having to cope with extreme loss of physical functioning while thinking about how keeping me alive and cared for would financially devastate my family. At no point in my nightmare did the thought that they might still want me around occur. I was wholly focused on the terrible consequences (mental, emotional, financial) of survival. Ugh. An extreme version of my life now, maybe this was my subconscious trying to pull the ripcord on all the therapy and restart my usual hypervigilance? I’ve been doing better at derailing that spiral consciously but the subconscious is powerful. Dear friend helped me short circuit the spiral by pointing out I could just as easily get hit by a bus and die suddenly as this happening. Weirdly, that worked.
Related fun: My eye started twitching on Friday and it hasn’t stopped. 🧐 Stress? Fatigue? Something else new?
Anyway today was a Mommy and Smol day. PiC had to work on site, JB had school, Smol doesn’t have daycare until tomorrow. Their rare late wake up was much appreciated as I was on Smol duty from 8:30 until they napped at 1. We did all the things: ran the vacuum, cleaned Sera’s ears, played outside, weeded, gardened, threw a ball for Sera, took her for a short walk, ate snacks and read some books.
Immediately after they settled in for a nap, I dashed through as much work as I could.
Our vacationing friend delivered surprise fresh caught, ready to cook, fish, neatly answering my question of “what other small thing should I add to this dinner of leftovers?” Breaded and air fried fish! Excellent. It hit the spot and by 650, my entire me was done done done. Such a high energy day.
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September 13, 2022
This link from Nicole and Maggie resonated: Rob Beckett: It’s weird to be a working-class man breeding middle-class children.
It IS weird raising kids in a higher social class than we grew up in. I grew up with no money, working the family business whenever needed and whatever it was, starting at the same age JB is now.
The summer I turned seven, I spent late nights packing crabs for/with my parents. It was so long ago I don’t even know what we were packing them for but I learned to pay attention to grabby claws pretty quickly. When I was nine, I was cashiering after school and weekends at their business. I loved the actual act of cashiering but was more ambivalent about the business that took every ounce of my parents’ time and attention. My accomplishments, such as they were in middle school, were just expected, not celebrated. They didn’t have the time or energy for me or them.
I met kids in middle and high school, whose parents were successful entrepreneurs, doctors, pharmacists, or stay at home parents. Their parents were either too busy for them (but wealthy) or they were always around and comfortable financially. I never fit in with anyone on that basis. I worked for my spending money in high school, and then had to work to pay our bills after high school graduation. None of them had to work a day if they didn’t want the spending money. Their expenses were always paid. It was awkward being the only one who always worked every weekend, every holiday, every chance we had to hang out.
I am still mildly mortified at misunderstanding references to “white coats”, not making the connection that it was a doctor thing, in my mid-20s. It’s funny though, I don’t think I understood why I felt like a fish out of water for so long.
Now as we’re raising our kids, we’re conscious of all the luxuries we have that are just normal for them and discuss this openly with JB. We want them to know that this wasn’t easy to come by and that we have to be good stewards of our money. That latter bit is the poverty background talking, I bet. I always worry it’ll all go away with one severe illness. My family of origin lost everything just before mom got seriously sick. I wasn’t privy to all the details so I just assume it was a combination of bad luck and Dad’s bad money management. I know it wasn’t because of her illness, but she was in despair that she could never get back on her feet financially because she was too sick to work much at all. Ugh that brought back a lot of feelings.
We discussed the fact that we don’t know what other people have and are comfortable spending, but when we do see them making choices, we should respect their decisions just as we expect people to respect our decisions.
I’m trying to shift my mindset so we can model developing our own sense of balance and choices. To do that, we need to learn to understand ourselves: what feels right or good or wrong or bad and understand how that impacts our relationship with money.
We let them learn what felt good and what didn’t about spending at Comic Con, and talked to them about how that should inform their decisions about how to approach spending situations.
They had a gift budget from their aunties and uncles and they discovered that they really liked spending ALL of it. That’s the polar opposite of me: whatever my budget is, I always want to reserve half of it. So for JB, that means they should pick their dollar amount to spend before going into a spending situation that makes sense with their bigger picture, and then they can spend that set budget without worrying or guilt. Don’t be that guy, we said, who was fighting with his wife at the Convention saying “A $1000 Skeletor bust is what savings is FOR!”
Related: college plans for the kids
I don’t know what they’ll want to do or where they’ll want to go for college but we’ll have to start having those conversations soon to lay groundwork too. We have been saving for JB since they were born, and now that Smol Acrobat is here, my plan is to split that one account down the middle. I’m also planning to split their gift money that’s cash in half too. I sort of wonder how fair or unfair that is.
JB’s had 6 years more of gifts than Smol Acrobat. We don’t know how long the cash gifts will continue, and we certainly don’t expect them to continue for predictable periods of time. Given that, I am collecting all of it into a single pot and split that down the middle when the time comes to disburse as well. It has the benefit of being mostly simple and it gives both kids an equal amount no matter who the gifts came from and when. My premise is that they shouldn’t get vastly different amounts solely because JB came first and accumulated more. Some people who loved and cared for JB aren’t around for Smol. I wouldn’t want Smol to only get 10% of the total gift money for their future, due simple to timing, just like I wouldn’t want it to be lopsided the other way around if people happened to be more present and generous during Smol’s time instead of JB’s.
However, I will set up a savings account for each kid to save for themselves. JB is earning an allowance and has to put away half for long term savings. It doesn’t make sense to commingle THOSE savings.
How would you handle savings, big and small, for your dependents?
September 12, 2022
Year 3 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Year 3, Day 171: Monday holidays are weird. Nice, but weird. I have to keep reminding myself that it’s not Sunday again, tomorrow will be Tuesday.
The weekend wasn’t meant to be a busy one but it turned out to be.
Flying high from my meal planning brain turning on, we invited our local food friends over for dinner on Saturday. That was fun and wiped me out just about completely. Sunday, PiC took JB out for an afternoon playdate that I missed because Smol Acrobat was sleeping so deeply. Just as well. I was still drained and I needed to work so that time was well spent at home huddled in my office.
Today, PiC had his morning run with his friends and then we went to see our long time friends in the afternoon which turned into a dinner with them. Almost like old times again. Also, I didn’t actually believe we’d be touched by the heat wave but it did come for us today, so thankfully, the friends we visited are the only ones we know with air conditioning. It wasn’t strategic! We didn’t know they had a/c until we were nearly there! But it was a lovely surprise.
We had to set up fans for everyone at bedtime, we were still feeling like we’d gone to bed in a convection oven. (more…)
September 5, 2022
Year 3 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Year 3, Day 164: I’m really glad that I’ve been putting some distance between myself and the family member I’d been helping out for years. After doing so much for so long, it started feeling less like family and more like being stuck on a hamster wheel of constant crises. I took some much needed time and some emotional space to decompress from that relationship and that was good.
Naturally, the other shoe dropped. They got in touch to share some news that I was not at all surprised by. I feel it was a terrible decision. But it’s done, it’s not my life, and it’s not my life’s purpose to rescue them (or anyone) from repeating past mistakes.
It’s good that because of the distancing, I didn’t witness the decision unfold in real time. I would have felt some duty to intervene but this way it’s much clearer to my sense of guilt that it’s not my business. Also, I hope I’m wrong that this wasn’t a terrible decision because they all deserve some good to happen.
*****
Frustrating COVID related chicken and egg situation: How does it make sense that the people I know who are most callous and most ignorant about COVID (of the “I took ivermectin and got better!” sort) are the ones who did get better? How does it make sense that the people I know who have taken all possible precautions (masking, vaccinated, boosted) get sick and can’t recover from Long COVID?
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August 29, 2022
Year 3 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Year 3, Day 157: Monday. Ugh. I’m still trying to recover from the weekend. Our Saturday afternoon plan turned into an 8 hour affair late into the night. The kids had a ton of fun, and the adults were completely wiped out by the many extra hours on our feet.
We retreated, sweaty and tired, and regrouped at our place. We all had late drinks and dinner in our pajamas. I even tried a couple sips of White Claw. That went straight to my head, but it was tasty. Sunday I worked and rested, napped even, but it wasn’t enough. JB kept me up quite late because they were crying about Seamus so I had to soothe them until they could sleep. End result: starting the week like a couple sacks of bricks are tied to my ankles. What l a bad week for this. In addition to the usual school/work/Smol Acrobat/swim lesson juggle, we have an eye appointment for JB today, a big daycare orientation tomorrow, PiC has a dentist appointment and late Friday meetings, and I’m shorthanded at work. Whoof. I needed to be at what passes for my best. But we’ll do what we can.
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At breakfast, Smol offered me their banana: “biii?” (bite) and then wiped down the peel, my knee, and their foot with a napkin. Very kind, thank you for the help.
Unfortunately our usual morning yardwork had to be postponed because I’m still broken. This was a great disappointment to Smol. Fortunately PiC was able to stick around and spell me with Smol for a little while before he had to go.
We were wrong, btw, the car battery wasn’t fine. It had to be replaced today. We expected it would be $240 but there was some prorating that brought it down to $120. Yay/boo.
After they got to observe a battery replacement, I wrangled an overtired Smol down for an early nap. They were absolutely losing it because they didn’t want PiC to leave. Or just because. It’s hard to tell, really.
I’m grateful they took a solid nap. I desperately needed those hours of sitting down even if I was still working. I’d considered moving to the sofa for a more comfortable sit but it’s too hard to set up a useful work station there now. Our new sofa fits our small space and does the job but I really don’t enjoy it. A shame that our $200 Craigslist sofa was more my cup of tea.
Year 3, Day 158: We did some really satisfying weeding but it was too much, too soon. My muscles were quite angry at me. Then my whole body quit on me. Extreme fatigue took over. You know that feeling when you’re about to be overwhelmed by sleep and can’t hold it off? That plus a feeling of my whole body being smothered under 100 lbs of weight is what the extreme fatigue is like. It is awful. I had to call it quits on Smol-care earlier than usual and set up my invalid workstation on the bed for the day. This sucks.
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Smol’s development continues to entertain. It’s funny to see someone so little be so dialed into certain things like: we weed together in the mornings, the snacks live here so push the stool over to reach them, the dog gets these treats.
I’m enjoying our together time even when they pick a patch of weeds for us to tackle together. I do all the work and they carry the results to the compost.
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A local car dealership that PiC looked at recently is asking for a $1000 (unclear if refundable) deposit to be waitlisted for a new car for 12 months. !!!!
We need a lot more details and confirmation in writing that it’s refundable to even maybe consider this but that seems like a big risk to take for too long a wait. I don’t want to have to fight with them to get my $1000 back if they never turn up a car that meets our needs.
Have you ever had to leave a deposit to be waitlisted for a car without getting an actual order / car assigned with a VIN?
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This Avatar / Bronte mashup makes me laugh.
Year 3, Day 159: What a day. The school has started minimum days again, elevating Wednesdays to be neck and neck with Mondays for the worst/hardest day of the week. My body is still struggling today, though a little less since I didn’t foolishly do yardwork again. I did take Smol Acrobat for a walk from which I had to carry them home, kicking and screaming, though and that didn’t do me any favors.
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Most days I like my mundane life but I was struck today with a feeling like I’m not doing one damn thing that matters. Some of the malaise may be related to the number of meltdowns that Smol had today but I bet it’s more related to feeling like I’ve wasted my precious time. First, my computer scare this morning which directly led to me spending more than one precious hour setting up my backup computer and fighting with a few key functions not functioning. Then, a friend asked me to help them make a decision and it turned out to be a waste of time because they’d already had their mind made up and they failed to provide key information upfront. Then, least consequentially but just adding to the pile of “ugh waste” feeling, some people changed their minds about stuff at work and that meant everything we’d done on that project will have to be thrown out.
It’ll pass. I just hate when what little routine remains to me is overturned and even more hate when hard work is wasted. It feels like I poured myself out and it was all futile. Not cool
Also! The many many meltdowns and toddler whining wasn’t my favorite. Was JB this whiny and melty? I don’t remember if I ever had to work this hard for them to just get through a day. I could go through the archives to find out but the answer to that question isn’t going to make today any better.
Year 3, Day 160: I hope we always have a Zoom option for back to school nights. We were able to fit in swim lesson, making dinner, JB’s homework which required two calls to two aunties, and the back to school night all by 710 pm.
It’s been a hell of a day and I absolutely forgot to finish a couple important things at work but in the end, we got it done. Fewer days like this, though, please.
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We need a wider variety of delicious crunchy snacks for the kids that are actually healthy and low-mess (easy for Smol in particular to self feed in the car) but I’m starting to doubt that’s possible.
JB will eat crunchy veggies but Smol won’t. They just chew them up and dribble them back out. Gross. They only want nuts, raisins, and carbs. Maybe they’ll eat dried fruit… ? We’ll try that and see.
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Year 3, Day 161: Boy, my psyche is working overtime. This time it was all about being left, lost, late at night on a vaguely familiar college campus to find my way out to my best friend who could easily have driven up to pick us up but chose to park miles away. Not the most deep metaphor for feeling tired, and abandoned by people I trust. Whoof.
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Longest. Day. Ever.
I hate when Fridays act like Mondays.
Smol Acrobat was a hysterical mess to and from school dropoff, they didn’t want to walk a single step. They begged to be carried but I can’t carry them all that way, and you can’t carry them partway. Once you cave, it’s a whole thing of “don’t put me down!!!” Not that it’s better than the constant “pick me up!!!” demands.
My stomach has disagreed with every single food choice I’ve made all week and ramped it up this morning to stabbing pains just at the thought of food. Rude.
After we got through all that mess, I got bad scheduling news from one staff member and then a huge project of “bad news please fix it” from another. The latter is actually a huge problem. But I’m going to mentally reclassify it as a non urgent issue because it’s been broken so long.
We made it to mid-afternoon, when PiC doublebooked himself for a meeting and a tire repair. Whoops. He went ahead with the tire repair, taking the call while he was out, and then was trapped there for the next five hours. His appointment was at 3 and they didn’t get to our car until 8 pm. Thankfully the kids were in great moods and played well the whole time but wow what a day. WHAT a DAY.