About sixteen years ago, I met him for the first time. My trainwreck sibling brought home this adorable puppy he had no business adopting because he had not one thing in his life that wasn’t a mess. I was furious at my sibling – he didn’t even take care of himself, how could he drag
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February 21, 2023
Life with JB
We refused to throw a big elaborate many-kids party for their birthday this year. They really wanted one and had the longest wish list started two days after their last birthday.
But we talked it through and they understood that we’re not willing to do that kind of exposure during COVID. And honestly now that they’re no longer at the age when kids do the whole classroom is invited thing, I simply don’t want to. PiC still wants to give them everything they want for their birthday, in the celebratory sense rather than the buy ALL THE THINGS way, but I don’t like going that overboard. So, as usual, we compromised. We probably paid about $100 for decorations, cake related stuff, and their presents. We paid another $200 for a really delicious meal from a local restaurant that adults and kids could all enjoy. That could have been Costco or other more expensive pizza, PiC suggested it, but I balked. If I have to host anything, I want to eat the good stuff. So we overspent, IMO, but for a long fun evening with a few good friends, and serving them a really nice dinner? I’m ok with that. It’s once a year, or in reality, once every four years since we haven’t had anyone over for their birthday since 2019.
At the end of the night when everyone left, they gasped: that was SO FUN.
The compromise was good for everyone. I wasn’t too exhausted to even exist, everyone had a good time, we had awesome leftovers but not too much. We sent cake home with our guests.
~~~~~
My mentor is one of the few people I can tell about my very honest parenting feelings. I’ve been feeling horrible guilt for all the conflict that JB and we have been having, and for how I just did NOT like my own child in those times. But “those times” have been so frequent these past months that it feels like I never like my own child these days, and what kind of monster can’t stand their own child??
Hearing her tell me “it’s normal to feel this way, it’s ok to feel this way, and you do NOT have to like your child every minute of every day” is balm for the soul. That lifted a burden I’d been weighed down by. So did, weirdly enough, having an adult be on JB’s side so that I could be frustrated about them. Somehow that freed me up to have my frustrations more than having an adult agree with me that they’re annoying because the latter then stirs up guilt over having raised an annoying child.
She understands my annoyance but she doesn’t share it and that also helped me to see JB in a different light. I want to like my kid all the time, but I can let myself off the hook for being human.
Life with Smol Acrobat
Six months ago, we borrowed a friend’s idea of swabbing Smol’s nose regularly so they’d be accustomed to nose swabbing enough to make COVID tests no big deal. They were curious and fine with it the first week. They were fine with it when we went for a PCR test. They were fine with it for another week.
Then suddenly they were not fine with it and all hell broke loose when we had to do another PCR. I have no idea what changed in their wee brain but it was like a switch flipped and NOPE. Tests have been a huge struggle ever since. They’ll see us swabbing and come by asking for a turn. Then turn and sprint off yelling no no no no! Bribery doesn’t work, distraction with audio, video or JB singing and dancing doesn’t work.
Fast forward to today, I swabbed their ears yesterday and they were cranky about it but I did it again today anyway. Today they relaxed and wanted “mo”. So I swabbed some mo’. And then mo’. Then “me” – they wanted to do it. So I gave them a swab and said, you can swab your nose. Only I do your ears. They were intrigued by this compromise and tentatively touched their nose a few times. I helped them get it into their nose gently. So of course the next go they jabbed their brain. Oops. But we laughed and they laughed and tried again. In the end, they and I gave both nostrils a good swabbing. But I’ll have to keep my hopes low: a new day may well bring a refusal to swab again.
This kid is so changeable.
~~~~~
Where JB was and still is Teflon against criticism, Smol is more like me: sullen and resentful of corrections. “Don’t eat the lotion!” is met with a grunt, crossed arms, thrashing, and anger. They feel the cut of a correction so deeply.
Pupdate
Ever since the holidays, Sera has been following me around the house more closely than ever before. It’s kind of cute, minus the tremendously toxic gas clouds she also emits.
She’s had her annual checkup and mostly she’s in good shape but she’s developing a touch of arthritis which the vet said to expect.
Precious Moments
Smol, getting put in jammies for bed: No no!
Smol, getting a lullaby: No no!
Smol, getting tucked in: No no no!
Smol, 1 minute after I shut the door behind me: zzzzzzzz.
~~~~~
JB: you’re not the boss of me!
Me: no? who is?
JB: me! I’m the boss of me and you’re the boss of you!!
Me: ah ok well you’re wrong, I’m definitely the boss of you BUT you’re welcome to be the boss of you and do everything you’re responsible for and taking the consequences when you don’t.
JB’s face: not like that!
~~~~~
I sneeze three times.
Smol: mom!! *Puts hand in front of face and huffs*
Me: you….want me to blow my nose?
Smol: yep.
A long parenting thread
February 20, 2023
Year 3 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Year 3, Day 326: I rarely have the Sunday Scaries. What I do have is Sunday how am I starting a new week with my tank on completely empty???
I had a “blocky” weekend. One activity in the morning followed by lunch and putting Smol down for a nap whereupon I crashed for a few hours. Saturday even included a surprise nap for me. But I’m still not starting the day recharged or rested because this damn cough has been wrecking any semblance of rest I could have gotten. Here’s hoping my doc has prescription cough meds I can get immediately.
~~~~~
Just realized that I started this memory in last week’s post and didn’t have time to finish it: I’m feeling alllllll of my 40 years today. When I was a young teen in martial arts at the community center, we had a classmate. I think he was 40? He could have only been 30. It sort of all looked the same from the vantage point of a 15 year old. Anyway, Harry was older than us by a lot and the poor guy crackled when he tried to stretch out with us. We were limber and young and wow, we really took it for granted. I did, at least.
Now I’m snap-crackle-popping when I turn my head and maaaan. It feels like a little bit of the past coming back to haunt me.
~~~~~
We got the prescription cough meds just before the pharmacy closed. 🤞🤞
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February 17, 2023
1. Bethel Friends of Canines is a non-profit dog rescue based in the rural Alaskan village of Bethel.
2. Apparently I have taught Smol most of the alphabet? We trace the letters in a lot of books when we’re reading. The teacher was surprised and told PiC she thinks they know almost all the letters now.
3. Donors Choose projects for classrooms with a high ratio of low income students:
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February 13, 2023
Year 3 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Year 3, Day 319: Oh, my aching head. I was up all night coughing and sneezing and intermittently gasping for breath when my nasal passages would suddenly close up. That was not fun.
I thought Smol Acrobat might be turning a corner on their cold-thing as well, they weren’t nearly so unpleasant/moody after their nap yesterday as they’d been all week, but they still woke up screaming at 1 am. At least it was just one time. Sigh.
This is Week Four of random viral something. The better news is that it’s Week 3 of the antidepressants and while I’m not yet 100%, it’s getting better. That very unstable fragile feeling is a little less pressing and present each day. I feel a little less like I’m standing on a raft in a stormy sea each day.
Year 3, Day 320: My brain worked at the speed of the original game of Pong today.
Bink. Bonk.
Bink. Bonk.
Bink.
PLONK.
By the time we had to leave for JB’s class, it was an empty echoing cavern.
I can’t tell if this is the depression, anxiety, or being sick for a month finally all being too much for me. Or just Tuesday. Could just be a Tuesday.
~~~~~
Smol Acrobat is an absolute pill at meals and tonight’s dinner was no different. They ate several bites voluntarily but then everything was screech! No! Demand! No! Demand! No!
They particularly dislike my insistence that they behave like a human with manners and say please along with whatever verb we’re fielding. They hold food hostage midmeal, holding it over the edge of their chair, asking yes? Yes?
NO.
Yes?
NO.
Yes? *grins, drops it*
They’re a tiny villain in the making.
Year 3, Day 321: Smol is keeping up their game of playing favorites and of course since PiC had an 8 am meeting, they chose him. That meant every single thing was a fight: wants milk. No, wants milk from Daddy.
Wants to get in the chair to eat. No, wants DADDY to help them into the high chair.
Wants milk. NO, milk from Mama is poison.
Wants more bagel. With cream cheese. No, don’t put away the peanut butter! Want cream cheese on bagel and want to see the peanut butter jar sitting on the counter. No reason.
Unreasonable terrorist! We fought every inch of our way through washing up, putting on socks and shoes, dropping off JB and coming back home.
They finally called a truce when I offered the opportunity to dump yard clippings into the compost. Thankfully, the hedge needed trimming badly anyway, so I clipped and they gathered. I can’t lift my arms now but at least we had peace for about 25 minutes.
~~~~~
Mental health today was a bit shaky. I couldn’t figure out why.
I had outdoor time with the unreasonable toddler in the morning. I had a good but short conversation with my cousin. I picked up JB and walked Sera and floated a plan to bake a random cake today if JB gets all their chores done. We have an extra Duncan Hines strawberry cake box mix from their birthday. I don’t actually like it much, myself, though everyone else does. I used to love the box mixes but this one tastes chemical-ly to me. What’s a good box mix we should try instead?
Catching up with a friend late at night it occurred to me that the tough morning with Smol left me feeling like I was on a back foot all day. I was probably as emotionally exhausted as I was physically.
Year 3, Day 322: We’ve been seeing a lot of new birds around the house lately. Usually it’s just blackbirds and a bluejay, but I spotted a few robins last week and two blue headed, rusty red breasted small birds yesterday. I might have to try and look them up.
~~~~~
Mental health today is … still opaque. It was a nice day outside. I appreciated the warmth of the sun, and cool breeze. But it just underlined the feeling that I can’t remember how to feel joy or happiness without the burden of whatever it is I’m feeling now. Heaviness. Bit of numbness.
This NYTimes opinion (gift link) article on supporting a friend with depression and suicidal ideation may be the closest to accurately describing the experience (and what one needs when dealing with depression) that I’ve seen in a long while: How Do You Serve a Friend in Despair?
It’s only later that I read that when you give a depressed person advice on how to get better, there’s a good chance all you are doing is telling the person that you just don’t get it.
I tried to remind Pete of all the wonderful blessings he enjoyed, what psychologists call “positive reframing.” I’ve since read that this might make sufferers feel even worse about themselves for not being able to enjoy all the things that are palpably enjoyable.
I learned, very gradually, that a friend’s job in these circumstances is not to cheer the person up. It’s to acknowledge the reality of the situation; it’s to hear, respect and love the person; it’s to show that you haven’t given up on him or her, that you haven’t walked away.
Year 3, Day 323: Our first Friday with childcare! It felt a bit strange. Not that we have had any actual routines on Fridays, it’s frequently a catch as catch can sort of merry go round with PiC and I taking turns hopping on childcare and school pickup and trading work time. We are just testing the full time waters without commitment right now and seeing what issues it raises for us. Right off the bat, I know PiC is nervous about the huge jump in cost. I was too, but I’ve been processing that for months. The other big thing is the dropoff and pickup grind. The daycare facilities are quite nice so we know they’re getting lots of chances to explore new things we can’t offer at home. BUT that means that it’s challenging getting them in and out of the classroom because they want to dawdle and explore and poke around and climb this thing and play with that giant connect four thing and wait! There is sports equipment right here to grab hold of and and and. It’s a solid 45 minutes at the top and bottom of each day.
That’s not including the 30-60 minutes of fighting with Smol to get them to get dressed, eat, wash up, put on socks and shoes, and a jacket and to go. You’d figure it was a 25 minute routine, right? Yes, if they cooperate. They have never cooperated. It’s constant redirection and herding them and working through one meltdown after another. We’ve never had a morning free of crying floor angel or rolling log full of scream. Not once. Toddlers. They’re hell on the nerves.
Still, at the end of this day, physically, I didn’t feel like a steamrollered pile of muck. It’s a weird distinction to make to folks with reasonable health, I’m imagining. I’m tired, yes. Very worn out, definitely. But I don’t feel that imperative to crawl into a dark hole and pull it in after me like most Fridays before this. This seems to be an improvement. Is it because of the meds or because of the childcare? Maybe both.
February 10, 2023
1. I thought the Mucinex wasn’t doing anything so I stopped taking it and my coughing and congestion spiked to horrifying levels so maybe it WAS helping. I’m still coughing and congested but I’m on Mucinex round the clock now and I can breathe mostly.
2. We supported:
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February 7, 2023
On Money
Income
Our primary income comes from our full time jobs. We have minimal income from investing in index funds and dividend stocks (all reinvested). We earn money on the side to supplement our main incomes. We get a bit of income from Swagbucks, cash back sites (Rakuten, Mr.Rebates) and affiliate links to Bookshop and Amazon sometimes pay a micro-commission to keep the blog running. The sidebar has ways to support the blog and our charitable giving.
Our long term goal is to replace our day job income with passive income before my health prevents me from working. I know from my Mom’s experience that qualifying for or relying on disability is incredibly tough or near impossible here in CA. Aside from that, I aim to do my best to make the most of what we can do while we can.
***
We received our middle class tax refund. January’s typically a lean month, as are February and March, so this was appreciated. It padded out our cash flow and let me make more charitable contributions this month than we would normally feel comfortable making early in the year. It was a bit annoying that they didn’t just direct deposit the refund. I had to hunt down a fee free ATM and withdrew that money immediately to make sure that we didn’t forget and lose that money either by carelessness or to fraudsters.
~~~~~
Whew, I had a minor panic when I realized that I hadn’t claimed all our Dependent Daycare FSA money from 2022. We certainly incurred more than the $5000 we allocated but I forgot to put in one final claim to take the balance. Normally I submit a single claim for multiple months and claim the full $5000 all at once but 2022 was weird, of course. Thankfully the rules give us a 3 month grace period to incur expenses and a 5 month grace period to claim all expenses. I put that claim in as soon as I realized my mistake. Whew.
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February 6, 2023
Year 3 of COVID in the Bay Area.
Year 3, Day 312: I’m on Week 3 of a cough and sore throat that won’t quit. Smol Acrobat came down sick yesterday and couldn’t nap or sleep properly so they’re home, and JB’s off school today too. Depression grabbed me by the throat on Saturday and it’s been a 48-hour-and-counting fight to stay neutral against passive self harm ideation, digging in my heels against spiraling further down this riptide, with no end in sight.
To say I’m gritting it out is an understatement.
At any given moment, I’m on the verge of throwing up, screaming with rage, and curling up into a ball of apathy never to move again. At the same time. Depression is a bizarre companion. Fatigue doesn’t make anything better.
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