Self Care

 “You can’t pour from an empty cup.”

 

Self-care. I’m probably doing it wrong. Someone telling me I need to take time to care for myself triggers me. It makes me angry. Not because I don’t want to take care of myself, but because the demand that I do is just one more demand on me, one more admonishment to do something I’m probably not doing right or the person wouldn’t have to tell me about it. It never fails, if I am telling someone about how hard virtual schooling has been and how stressful it is to simultaneously be expected to work from home, the response is “What do you do to take care of you?” Because adding more things to my ever-growing list of stuff I’m not doing or not doing enough is going to help. Let’s be real here. Things are not easy right now. Our world got up-ended in March and it is still weeble-wobbling around unsettled. I had been working on getting additional child care options prior to Covid. I had mostly gotten all my plates spinning in the same direction and it was manageable. But, quarantine smashed them all to the ground. So, now I am trying to patch it all back together, but we have some missing pieces. I think what bugs me the most about someone questioning my self-care is what they don’t know. I make a point to have time to sit and relax at night when the kids go to bed. I clean my house so I can stay sane. I have been getting up and doing yoga every weekday morning for about three months now. I have found a meditation app and I use it almost every weekday morning. Once a week I take a soaking bath in Epsom salts. I shower regularly and I am constantly trying to eat healthier (of course I slip up a lot, but I’m learning to forgive myself and so should you). I have set my phone to dim at a certain time at night, reminding me to make my way to bed. I am not doing nothing! But, life is like a sieve. The more I dumb in, the more runs out. I just haven’t reached a catch up point. I would need like a two-week, kid-free all expenses paid vacation and that just hasn’t materialized. So, I keep making an effort to do the things I can do and add other things when I can afford them and make the time to make it happen. Ironically, I find it stressful finding a reliable option for child care so I can do some of the extra stuff, which is another reason I hold back. I think, rather than adding to the load when things are hard, it might be more helpful to offer support. Is there anyone or anything that can help you take care of yourself? Don’t add more pressure or demands – hey you! Take care of yourself dammit! Anyway, aren’t we all just doing the best we can right now?

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Covid Scare

 We had our first covid scare. Friday, the kid's therapist contacted me stating she was going to get tested. We had plans for Chica Marie's friend to spend the night on Saturday. I text the mom and let her know what was going on. I also text my supervisor because my job is pretty strict about contact tracing. She was getting her test expedited and hoped to have the results by Sunday evening. Work wanted me to self-quarantine pending the results. If the results were positive, I needed to get tested and have my doctor fill out a form before I could return to work. The kids would also need to be tested. Fortunately, the results came back early, on Saturday, and they were negative. We were able to resume our lives without quaranting. But, there was a lot of confusion regarding what was my responsibility (do I tell the daycare or does she, since she had been seeing the kids there?) and what was the exact protocol. I am so glad the test was negative. 

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Multi-tasking

 A few weeks ago I was tasked with presenting information in a virtual staff meeting. When my supervisor asked me about it I groaned. The meeting is held on a Wednesday morning, which means I would be working from home. This means there is a very high likelihood something embarrassing will happen when it is my turn to present. I did my best to prepare, had the paper with what I wanted to say in front of me. I warned the children that I would be in my meeting and they could not disturb me or make noise. I asked them to quiet the dogs if they started to bark. I held my breath, unmuted my microphone and started my video. As I began presenting, Love Bug sidled up to me and climbed into my lap, tapping my cheek and trying to get my attention. I hugged him, held his hand and continued without breaking my stride. Not to be out-done, the cat, who is not allowed on the table, sashayed across my laptop in front of the video several times while my full focus and attention were on presenting the information professionally. Love Bug began humming and tried to pry the headphone from my ear. I snuggled him closer, pressed the headphone tighter into my ear and finished my presentation without missing a beat. I was pretending that none of those things were happening. Pay no mind to the man behind the curtain! But, the site administrator called attention to the chaos and applauded my ability to multi-task. I was just grateful everyone remained quiet during my presentation. This isn’t the first time I have had to summon my ability to simultaneously handle something happening in front of me while continuing to engage professionally. This is working from home as a single parent. It is our new normal for as long as virtual meetings are occurring. I’ve done my best to make peace with it. I try not to get frustrated with my kids when they interrupt, but sometimes it makes me batty trying to continually split my attention. What is even more worrisome to me is my inability to do just one thing at a time. I have been trying to meditate in the mornings but I find myself unable to *just* meditate, not meditate and eat my breakfast or meditate and get my laptop booted up for the day or meditate and check the kids school schedule. I don’t sit and watch a show, I am reading or on my cell phone at the same time. I am folding laundry and watching a video and talking to one of my kids. Part of it is my need to be productive because when I slack off the work just piles up. Some of it is because I am a single parent and I have to be able to handle multiple tasks simultaneously. But, a lot of it is the societal need to be busy and that even extended into quarantine during a global pandemic. I am thankful I was able to maintain my focus during the virtual staff meeting, but I am hoping to break my multi-tasking habits for a mentally healthier me.

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Until I'm 19

 I don’t remember how the conversation started, but the kids and I were talking about who would take Primero’s bedroom when he moves out (not something that is happening anytime soon, just an eventual inevitability). The kids each tried to stake a claim for Primero’s bedroom but I told them I would likely move into his room. I’m not 100% certain I will move, but the room is larger than mine so it has some appeal. Chica Marie was satisfied with taking over my room but was dismayed when I told her the TV would not be staying. Love Bug, realizing he would be in a bedroom by himself for the first time in his life responded to his sister’s plea for the TV by stating “we need it downstairs.” “We?” I asked incredulously. “There is no ‘we’ moving downstairs, just me.” “But who will I sleep with?!” Love Bug wailed. “You will be a big boy and sleep by yourself. How long do you think you will be sleeping with me?” I asked, hoping to appeal to his rationale side. “Um, until I’m 19,” he responded. And there you have it. This child has zero plans on sleeping in his own bed anytime soon. So, now I need to decide if it’s a habit I want to work really, really hard on breaking or just concede to 13 more years of Love Bug’s feet prying apart my ribs….

 

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A Note to Bullies

 During the Covid quarantine, as the time stuck-at-home increased beyond my initial imagination, I decided to start diving inward and work on the stuff that seems to hold me back in life. Maybe it’s a weird time to get so introspective, but it’s been working for me. One of the things that bubbled to the surface was how much I let the pain from childhood bullying still haunt me as an adult. One of the therapists in the women’s empowerment group I attend accused me of still thinking of myself as a victim. I am not a victim. She suggested I write a letter to my childhood bullies as the adult I am today. So, I did. And when I read it to the group they insisted I share what I wrote publicly. So, I am sharing it here and I might share it to my social media, but I’m starting here where I am (mostly) anonymous.

 

Dear Childhood Bullies,

 

    For far too long I have allowed you to take up space in my head. I have allowed you to mentally torment me for years. I have swallowed your words, ingested them and made them my own. Those painful poisonous barbs have become so imbedded in my psyche that they have become my inner voice. The voice that tells me I am not good enough, not worthy. The voice that viciously dissects every perceived imperfection. The nasty voice that repeats the vile epitaphs you called me with such distain – fat cow, beached whale, fat and ugly. Does it make you feel good to tear another person down like that? To reduce their humanity to their body shape? Surely you do this to hide your own deficits. But, when I was younger I didn’t know that. All I wanted was friendship, to belong. Why did you deny me? Why did you hurt me? How could you take such pleasure in my pain? Why was I your target? I am sure by now you have found you reap what you sow. As for me, I am done allowing you to hurt me. I am evicting your mean, uncaring, untrue words from my head and heart. You can fuck all the way off. You can take your small-minded, pathetic opinions with you. My self-worth isn’t dependent upon the shape of my body and you are one fucked up loser to think that way. You don’t deserve to lick the bottom of my shoes because you are weak and nasty and unkind. All things that I am not. What a sad life you must live! What a pitiful existence for you to only get your jollies from putting someone else down. It says a lot more about you than it does about me. I am strong and beautiful and kind but you are too bigoted and close-minded to even see that. What a terrible existence! It must really suck now that I have tossed you out. But, being a typical bully you will likely find someone else to torture. How broken you must be inside to take so much pleasure in someone else’s pain! Back then I never felt strong enough to stand up to you. I let your words and low opinions of me crush my soul. I took what you said to heart. I believed you when you told me I was ugly and fat and worthless because I started wearing a bra in third grade. You put your hands on my and made me feel dirty. You had no right to touch me! Not ever! You, the only high schooler on the bus, made fun of my lunch box, called me tubby and made riding the bus total hell. No one was there to stop you but guess what asshole? I can stand up for myself right now and if I could I would tell you to your face what a dickhead you are. You will no longer hurt me, make my cheeks burn with embarrassment as you callously encouraged the other kids to make fun of me. You intimidated me back then but now I see you for what your are – a loser trying to assert his power because he felt powerless. Fuck you! Did you feel big picking on a girl three years younger than you? How fucking pathetic! Grown up me can do something adolescent me could not. Grown up me would go toe-to-toe and let you know you picked the wrong bitch. Oh the whole bus would hear my mouth telling you to grow a pair and pick on someone your own size. Why were you the only high school kid on our bus? Were you not able to pass the driver’s license test? Had no friends willing to give you a ride home? I wonder why that might be? You would not want to mess with adult Empty Arms. You would not get the satisfaction of seeing me cry. You would not leave that fight unscathed. The same kids you taught to make fun of my would be making fun of you. The tables would be turned. I would not shrink away and try to block out the sound of your voice. I would not let your awful words penetrate deep inside my heart. Instead, I would roar in protest. I would call out your lies. I would eviscerate your logic. You would not stand a chance against me. I have grown and this whale can end you with one flick of her tale. I am not little and meek. I am not hiding. Your power is gone. Now everyone can see you for the coward that you are. Your words have no place in my head. They are lies and I have learned out to dig them out. I am worthy, no matter my size. I am enough, just as I am. My inner beauty is abundantly clear. Take your demons and be gone. Fuck off.

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Adrift

 Last week was our first week of virtual school. I prepared as much as I could. I tried getting the kids psyched up for it. We made table top tri-folds to give them some privacy and help keep them focused. We wrote out their schedule and talked about “classroom” boundaries. We tried on their headphones and logged into their computers. I figured we were in better shape than we had been in the spring when the rug was yanked out from under us and we were in a confusing free-fall. But, alas, it seems no amount of planning and preparing is going to make Love Bug comply with virtual learning. He did great his first day while at daycare but began a rapid backslide at home that culminated in a very difficult Friday in which I spent most of the day begging, pleading, bribing and cajoling him to just sit in front of the computer with his headphones on. It was sheer torture for all of us. I was supposed to be working but trying desperately to get Love Bug engaged (along with the wrap around support staff who were there in some capacity nearly the entire day). Love Bug was done with all forms of virtual schooling and just did not want to do it. And Chica Marie was upset that Love Bug was getting so much of my undivided attention and she was expected to carry on as if nothing was happening. I described it to a friend like this: in March our carefully constructed and supportive boat capsized into rough and choppy waters. I seized a life raft but was soon knocked out of it by a large wave. Not one to give up, I have battled the raging seas and managed to lash together the things that were dumped from our life raft and we are floating together in one jumbled heap. I have even managed to locate our life raft but every time I grasp hold of it, a wave knocks it away from me and so here we are – floating lashed together within sight of our life raft with little hope of climbing aboard it. We are safe, we are healthy but it would feel damn nice to get on some dry land one day soon!  

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Basement Trio

 It’s likely I am a prude. I’m probably not as sexually liberated as some people. I’ve done some stuff, I’ve talked about doing some stuff, but when it comes down to it, I’d rather keep things mostly vanilla with a few sprinkles every now and then. I am definitely monogamous. As much as I sometimes wish I could be into the same sex (because it seems simpler, even though I know it is not), I am not attracted to females. I can admire them, I can think they are beautiful and attractive but that is where it ends. I am cis-gender, hetero-sexual, and probably rather boring.  This is why I find it aggravating that in the last four days my home has been the stage for a ménage à trois of sorts. Primero informed me last week he planned on having two friends sleep over Thursday night. He did not tell me there would be alcohol involved until he came upstairs fairly drunk. I was not impressed. These friends ended up spending the night (often leaving during the day) for four consecutive nights. Not only were they drinking but, according to Primero, they were getting pretty frisky thanks to the libations and an Uno game with write-in suggestions.

 

All of the parties involved are of age, not to drink, but to make adult decisions. Other than loud music, those of us living upstairs were unaware of the goings-on down below. I could have continued on in blissful ignorance except Primero likes to tell me stuff. What has me the most agitated is the particular individuals involved (problematic due to some drama with Primero’s oldest brother, his girlfriend, and who is cheating on who). And, Primero claiming he doesn’t want x, y or z to happen, but continually inviting these two characters back over to our house. He doth protest too much, methinks. But, here I sit in the awkward aftermath wondering how to handle the situation. I do not really want this same thing to happen again. However, Primero is an adult, the other players were adults and they kept their crazy mess confined to his room. Still, I wish he would be like other kids and do this crazy stuff in a college dorm room and not my basement.  

 

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Lack of Money Management Skills

I hate money. I hate feeling like we never have enough money. I am also total rubbish when it comes to finances, especially my own. We got out back porch replaced this summer and it cost more than I was hoping because some of the materials were nearly triple in price. I don’t exactly understand how Covid and the quarantine are to blame, but the over-budget porch combined with my piss-poor money management skills means we won’t be going down the shore like I had hoped next week. The kids have told everyone, bragged about it at daycare and to anyone with ears willing to listen. I hate crushing their hopes, but I just can’t swing it. At least we have a safe and stable back porch we can enjoy?

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Won't You (Not) Be My Neighbor?

 I don’t remember exactly when our next door neighbors moved in. The house had sat empty for several years until the newcomers showed up. I’m not sure if they bought the property or are renting it. I don’t remember seeing a for sale sign. I remember the first time I realized someone was living there. I was home alone from work because I was not feeling well. I was napping on the couch in our living room, which has windows looking out on the neighbors front yard. I was startled awake by someone screaming and pounding on a door. Concerned, I peaked outside and saw a visibly angry young man stalking up and down the sidewalk in the neighbors yard, screaming and pounding on their front door. I was about to call the cops when I heard him scream, “Mom! Open the !@#$% door!” He ranted and raved for probably close to an hour before successfully waking his mother and gaining access to the house. Welcome to the neighborhood neighbors. I liked it better when this house was empty. I had issues with a previous owner, who also screamed obscenities, only they were directed at me or my dog. He actually frightened me because I don’t think he was mentally stable. I was quite happy when he moved away. Now, we have this young man who also seems to struggle with mental health issues. During the pandemic, when I was attending my weekly women’s empowerment meetings in the van (for privacy) he would inevitably end up in a screaming match with a young woman that often ended in things being thrown at her car or into the street (don’t get me started on their trash in the street issue). On Memorial Day, when our other next door neighbors had a party, I heard someone sobbing outside and was concerned for the young woman who tends to be on the receiving end of the young man’s screaming diatribes.  I sent Primero off to check on her, but he couldn’t find her. I was concerned she might be the victim of more than just verbal abuse, so I try to keep an eye out for her.

 

Beyond the tirades, my latest issue with these neighbors are the pungent smells of their marijuana wafting into my backyard while I am outside with my children. First of all, I detest the smell of pot. It smells like skunk spray to me and is simply gross. Secondly, I do not want my children to be around someone smoking pot (or smoking anything at all) so when they start, we go inside. But, that is not fair to my children, who have a right to be in their backyard playing. The way our houses are situated, my house sits on the front of the property, right on the sidewalk. So, we don’t have a front yard, just small spots for a flower garden. Their house sits on the back of the property so they have a large front yard but not much of a backyard. This means their front deck in in line with our backyard. So, the smoke from their favorite pastime wafts easily into our yard. I hate it. Marijuana is not legal in our state, other than for medicinal purposes and sold through a state-approved facility to someone with a medical marijuana card. Obviously I do not know their medical status, but often times it is a group of young men, so I will go out on a limb and guess it isn’t being used for medicinal purposes. Their flagrant disregard for the law chafes me, but even more so is their pollution of the air around our home. I am powerless to stop it, which only makes me more angry about it. I wish we had the resources to move, but that is also not a possibility. I am also not super comfortable talking to them, given the young man’s outbursts and public displays of aggression. My kids like talking to the neighbors and are always calling out hello, or asking to pet their dogs. So, I guess I just have to work on getting over it. Bring the kids inside when necessary and talk to them about being good neighbors (and probably start talking about drug use in an age-appropriate way). Just add that to our list of things to learn while home this first quarter.

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Virtually Untenable

 There are a lot of personal thoughts and emotions regarding back to school this year. Our district held a special school board meeting last week to decide what they were going to do. It was over 4 hours long. Our governor has decided to allow school districts to plan on what to do – open to in-person classes or do virtual classes or some hybrid version. Ultimately, our district chose to do virtual classes, with the teachers teaching remotely. I made the mistake of commenting on the district’s Facebook post about it and got sucked into a whirlwind of everyone thinking they were right and no one listening or finding compassion for anyone else. I’ve had some time to think about it and here are my thoughts (not that you asked).

 

The bottom line, no matter on what outcome you were personally hoping for, none of the choices were desirable choices. People asked me what I hoped would happen and I replied honestly, “I wish the virus would go away so the kids can go to school.” As with any decision made, it is impossible to please all of the people. In short, this sucks.

 

What I know thus far is there will be some form of orientation for the parents at the beginning of the school year. The students are expected to log in daily for attendance and their work will be graded. The school is setting up wifi hotspots around all the school buildings to help families who do not have internet access. All extracurricular activities have been cancelled. The schools will distribute lunch daily and the schedules allow time for the lunch to be picked up. One question was asked about special needs students and it was glossed over as, sure they will learn online. One question was asked about working parents and it was suggested that daycare facilities take on the roll of making sure students are logged in and learning. This plan is for the first 6 weeks of school (the first quarter) and will be evaluated pending the number of covid cases at that time.

 

Our district handed out Chromebooks in late May. They were allowing one per household. For us this means we have one laptop and two learners. I’m not a math wiz, but it seems if both kids needs to log on for attendance by 8:30 am, someone is going to be marked absent. We are fortunate because a friend gave us a laptop which allows both kids to be logged in at the same time, however the Chromebook has access to all of the necessary Google classroom ish whereas the laptop just gets them access to the internet.

 

As of right now, I am working in the office two days out of the week, which gives me three days at home. I sort of mentioned to the daycare director that the plan was for them to take on the responsibility of getting kids onto their laptops but we were only talking hypothetically. Again, we are lucky because my supervisor has assured me I can work from home all 5 days out of the week. But, and I’m not trying to look a gift horse in the mouth here, this means I am going to be back into that stressful situation of trying to two important things simultaneously and failing miserably at both. Since the beginning of July I have been translating for Spanish-speakers who are unemployed and trying to deal with the unemployment office. I do it via Skype on my laptop and it requires quiet and concentration. The kids have been in daycare since I started doing it and there has been little issue. Even if one assumes I can keep the children quiet, they will potentially be listening to a teacher talking, thus competing with my call. Ok, we can go to different rooms but we don’t have desks for each room, and if I am not sitting with the kids I do not know what they are learning and I am less likely going to be able to help. Not to mention the fact that I will have to actively, beg, bribe, cajole, and harass Love Bug to sit and listen to his teacher. So, sure I can work from home. And sure, I can homeschool/virtually school my kids. I have confidence in my abilities to do both of those things. But, not at the same time. At least not well. And this doesn’t even mention the stress and pressure of it all, so if I am lifeless and unresponsive by the end of September, this is why.

 

I fear for the special needs learners. I made the comment that some things can’t be learned online, like handwriting, to which I got a scathing reply “Don’t you know how to write?” Um… Yes, I can write. And I can probably teach a child to write if they are a neurotypical child, but I don’t have confidence in teaching a child to write who has challenges in doing so. Just like I can apply a Band-Aid for a cut but I would not attempt to give myself stitches; there are professionals for that sort of thing and I feel like that is what Love Bug needs. And it isn’t just handwriting, there are a of things he is missing because he is not in school. He needs school; he needs the structure that comes from school. There are some children, well people in general, who cannot learn via a virtual medium. My Love Bug falls into this category. He is more of a tactile learner and he needs to be engaged physically while learning. In the spring I was semi-ok with the idea that he would fall behind but get caught up once he was back in school. But, not knowing how long this will go on, I don’t know that I am still that patient. I know I can’t really do anything, other than teach him myself, but I don’t think I’m his best option either. A coworker suggested I homeschool him so I can choose the schedule, but to be honest, that is way above my pay-grade. I simply don't have the tools and know-how to handle special needs education. 

I am disappointed it didn't seem like a lot of consideration was given to just how hard this would be, especially for working parents or single parents. From my brief foray on the Facebook crazy train, other parents suggested us working parents should simply find another job; one that allows us to stay home and school our children. Or, we should use the federal new FMLA to stay home. I work 37.5 hours per week, which my state considers full-time but not the federal government. So, I would only be eligible to a point. Regardless, it would mean taking a significant pay-cut, something we don't have the luxury of doing. Just like finding a different job is not a realistic solution, nor does it guarantee the ability to stay home with our kids. I would need to take a third shift job, which mostly around here is in manufacturing or warehouses and it would pay a fraction of what I am earning, not to mention I would need to find a (non-existent) daycare that would take my children and uproot their entire lives and for what? I want my children to have an education but I also need realistic solutions to make that happen. Our current situation is simply untenable. 

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Parenting in 2020

I am still working from home this week because the Covid test results are still pending. I will be returning to work next week, since that will be beyond 2 weeks of quarantine. Love Bug has been sent back to daycare, so my fingers are crossed this week will goes well. Next week we will also know what our school district decides for the upcoming school year. They are presenting three options to the school board. Option one is all the students return to in-person classes. Option two is for only the academically vulnerable to attend in-person classes and the rest of the students attend virtually. The district decides who is academically vulnerable. The third option is for all students to attend virtual classes. 

As many parents are, I am vacillating on what my choice will be, depending on what the school decides. If the school chooses option one, like another local district, I need to decide if I am sending my children to school or homeschooling them or perhaps trying to find an alternative like a Montessori school. I have a friend with kids my kids ages and she has decided to homeschool her kids, regardless of the school districts decision. Of course, the in-person option would be easiest in terms of work, but most worrisome for the health of my children. On one hand, my kids are healthy, hardly ever sick despite their questionable personable hygiene. But, I don't really want to test their immune system by throwing them into a likely germ cesspool (let's be honest, schools are generally known as a good place to catch a cold). Yet, they are in daycare, which is also a good place to catch a case. There are a lot less kids at daycare than at school, so likely less of a chance. At this point, any decision feels like rolling the dice. 

Option two also presents it's share of problems. I don't know which students might be identified as "academically vulnerable" but I sense it might be kiddos like my Love Bug; the ones in special education, the ones who need more in-person attention or receive other assistive services. Under this option, I am guessing one of my children will be attending in-person classes and the other will be attending virtual schooling. Chica Marie did pretty good with the virtual schooling the end of this past school session, so that isn't the concern. My worry is how I will make it possible for her to be in class daily. After this week, I will return to working in the office twice a week. Will three days per week be enough for her to keep up with the work? Will I be able to work from home all week to accommodate her schooling? Would the daycare be willing to allow her to sign on and work two days per week? So many more questions than answers.

Option three is the most difficult for me to execute. If both kids need to be attending virtual classes, how will I be able to assist them working from home three days per week? What if I return to the office full-time with the kids still attending virtual classes? Trying to school the kids while working was so hard the last few months of school. Nearly impossible given their unique needs and my lack of teaching skills. Now, I am translating via Skype when I am working from home, which means I am even less able to be distracted but with even more of a need to be able to dedicate to working with my kids. The district wasn't grading the students the fourth quarter, but now they will be expecting the kids to perform. They handed out Chromebooks, so there is less of an issue of having available technology. So, while this is the safest option, physically, it is the most problematic for our little clan. 

No matter what the district decides, there will be something conceded. It will not be an easy decision by any means. This is parenting in 2020. 

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New Normal, Same Problems

I am working from home all week this week due to someone in our office needing to get tested for Covid-19. It is a precaution but they are also sanitizing our work space, so we cannot be there. Love Bug has been struggling at daycare, so his therapist and I decided to keep him home with me to cut down on his anxiety. I don't know if it is the best decision, but it does preserve his ability to attend daycare. I have such high anxiety about him being asked to leave, like he was last year this time. I feel the pressure of trying to find something else for him and it is frightening. Fortunately, I can keep him home with me right now. And, if need be, I can send him to daycare just a few days a week when I have to be in the office. But, for how long? I know there's a lot of talk about the "new normal" but not knowing how long this new reality might last also makes me anxious. I am trying to just be here, now, in the present and not borrowing worries from the future that might never come to pass. Quarantine has been a personal journey for me and I am coming to understand how my perfectionism has caused a great deal of personal anxiety and anguish. And this anxiety seeps into much of my life in ways I hadn't recognized before. Internally, I fight with myself about getting on the ball and starting a special needs daycare, as I have been talking about doing for nearly a year now. But, on the other hand, I don't have so many of the necessary things, like capital or specific education. So, I have to deal with what is, and that is our current daycare who cannot or will not handle my Love Bug. The next school year is still up in the air, so I don't know how heavily I will need to rely on them going forward. Maybe the new normal will stick around long enough for me to figure out a different option for my kiddo.



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Back to The Office

I have officially returned to work in the office. My first day back was last week. It was ok but rather lonely. To mitigate contact, staff is working in staggered shifts, which means something different for each team. The extended hours we were supposed to work has not be approved by the union (Yet. No idea if this is still being considered), so we are only working our normal hours. But, only one of us is in the office at a time. I work in the office on Monday’s and Thursday’s and from home the rest of the week. Getting back into the morning routine has been hard. I had tried to keep some semblance of a routine during quarantine and the last few weeks I have been getting up earlier. But, being the genius I am, I decided I needed to not only start a new cleaning schedule but I also want to spend some time working out or doing yoga in the morning, plus the meditating I have been doing. It was a breath-taking schedule this morning to be honest. I should probably get up earlier to get it all done but I sense that no matter how early I rise, I will still feel like I’m sprinting to get to work on time. Sigh. Mornings are just not my thing. Or maybe, working at someone else’s schedule is just not my thing. There are some nice things about being at work, like using a computer with a mouse (I’ve been using my laptop at home).Of course some things work better at home, like Skype (I was sent home today to use Skype on my laptop after spending two hours trying to get it to work on the laptop in the office). But, mostly it’s annoying having the mask on and trying to not breathe into my eyes (honestly, my eyes get sore, it’s weird – I don’t wear glasses but I can understand this is also highly annoying with the glasses fogging up constantly). The work is mostly the same although I am doing more translation for customers collecting unemployment. I feel like each day brings new questions about how something might function differently while following social distancing.

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Still Not Getting Over It

Yesterday I wrote about our Fourth of July because I was trying to let go of some of the things said. But, I just can't seem to get it out of my head. Like millions of tiny little cuts, the things said still sting. My aunt bragging about taking her granddaughter to swimming lessons not long after my mom declared my kids aren't even welcome at her house. My cousin insisting she will raise her kids to be uber polite, sir and m'am the whole nine yards. I guess because my kids weren't polite enough? My mom's comment, the one she didn't think I overheard, about how wild my kids were compared to the quiet boy. And her clear desire for children to be more seen and less heard. I don't think the kids know or understand much of this, at least I hope they don't, but I won't be able to keep them sheltered from it forever. The reality is, I shouldn't have to. I'm not talking about John Q. Public at large, I am talking about my family; the people who are supposed to be my rock, my sanctuary. And instead, they are the source of some of my greatest pain. My children deserve unconditional love. Unconditional, meaning it doesn't matter how they act or what their background is, they are still loved and they know they are loved. Evidently, my children can only be loved if they are obedient. My mom shared the car story with probably the only person who didn't know about it. I am not saying my children are perfect or don't need discipline, but, contrary to popular belief, I don't allow them to act out without retribution. But, I can't punish the ADHD out of my kids. I can't correct away the autism diagnosis from Love Bug. And, in fact, often times hard-nose disciplining can have the opposite effect for children with ODD. I am not claiming to be a parenting expert but I have read enough books and taken enough training to give me a lot of ideas on how to parent my children and their unique needs. It would be super great if people, rather than offering judgment or criticizing, would try stretching their compassion to see we are all really just trying our best. Honestly, I am considering just not coming around because my kids deserve better.   

Unconditional

The one thing quarantine has given me is the space and time to work on myself. I've been reading some books and working with my therapist and it is hard to express it all succinctly, but one recurring theme is how much I need to let go. Four pages of things, to be exact. So, I have been trying to consciously not let things bother me like they used to, to just let it go. This past weekend we went to the farm for the Fourth of July picnic. Usually, my kids are the only kids in attendance. Sometimes my cousin brings his daughter but she is only a toddler. This past weekend an old friend of mine was there with her son, who just turned 10. I have known this friend of mine all my life. Her parents (also at the picnic) are friends with my parents; our mom's have been friends since they were in the seventh grade. As a child she was much like me - quiet, respectful, not one to cause a ruckus. It seems her son is cut from the same cloth. If the adults hadn't spoken to him, you would have hardly known he was there. My kids, not so much. The difference was so stark it bordered on comical. My kids did not sit down, did not stop moving, and got into trouble more than once. At one point, after admonishing Love Bug to not rock the porch swing too hard for the eleventy-seventh time, my mom yelled at me to make him stop. "Did you not hear me tell him multiple times?" I retorted. My cousin (not the mother of the toddler) mumbled, "Time out?" Listen, if you want to parent my kids by all means. I guarantee you will not have them towing the line anymore than I have. But, please tell me again how I'm not doing good enough because my children are clearly hellions. At another point my uncle was trying to convince my mom and dad to vacation with them in Myrtle Beach next year. When my mom said they couldn't leave the farm my uncle offered me to take care of things. I good-naturedly agreed with the stipulation we stay at their house. "Oh my God no! Not with those kids. There wouldn't be a house left until we got home." So, there is my village folks. I am trying to let it go, I am trying to not dwell on it, to not let it hurt. But, it does hurt. My children are not the demure little boy like my son's child because they have not lived the same sheltered life he has lived. And, to be honest, I'd rather have my wild fierce little hellions than a quiet, boring child who never makes life interesting. Would it be nice if my kids would sit quietly while I talk to grown-ups? Sure. But, that is just not our reality. My kids are energetic, full of life, and they don't always follow directions but they are not bad kids. And I am tired of always feeling like I have to explain them to people or defend them to people who should just love them, crazy antics and all.  

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Future Farmer

On Saturday Love Bug turned 6. For the last two months the only thing he has been asking to do on his birthday was go to the farm and help my dad bale hay. I text my parents asking if they could make this possible. Love Bug, my little morning person (the only morning person in my family besides my dad), planned to get up early (he woke up at 5:30 am) and take breakfast from Friendly's (he recently learned his favorite restaurant makes breakfast) to the farm so he could get out into the fields early. I don't know when or why Love Bug became fascinated with hay balers and other farm equipment, but it is in keeping with his interest in learning how things work. My dad was concerned about safety. The equipment is not for play and could cause harm, if Love Bug were to not follow the rules and listen to what he is told. So, I spent a lot of time prepping him, telling him how important it is to listen and do as he is told for his safety. He was so excited, he talked about it every day. On Saturday my mom called me. Not to wish Love Bug a happy birthday, but to express how inconvenient our planned visit was for the next day. She is planning on holding her annual Fourth of July picnic and needed to make sure everything around the house was perfect. She had "so many things to do" we could not make this an all-day event. We could come for breakfast, do the tractor ride and then peace out and go home. I could tell by her voice she was a breath away from cancelling the whole thing. I acquiesced to anything she demanded, just to make this day possible for my Love Bug. I finally watched Instant Family and balled like a baby over how excited Grandma Sandy was to attend the adoption of her grand-kids; how she loved them immediately. My mom is really missing out on some wonderfully special kids. 

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Transitions

Love Bug has started back at daycare for three hours per day. He did really good his first day, but I can still see the cracks of anxiety. He is agitated from the moment he wakes up until we leave for daycare. He asks dozens of times when is it time to leave and this morning got angry when I got ready in the wrong order (usually I get dressed first and then do my makeup, I did it in reverse this morning). He had a good time yesterday and wanted to go back but then balked when the children walked out to go to the park as we were arriving this morning. Fortunately, we have wrap around services and they are there to help him in this transition. It seems coming out of quarantine is just as hard as going in.


 Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

Bubble Popping

During our stint in quarantine, Chica Marie has had a lot of emotions regarding adoption and her biological family come up. A few weeks ago, after asking why she was adopted, she attempted to run away. She even climbed out her bedroom window (which is above the basement door and about 8 feet off the ground). She has been showing some signs of prepubescent changes, so I don't know how much hormones might be starting to play into the mental health. I am desperate for us to strengthen our connection before puberty hits because right now we struggle. Next week Love Bug will go to daycare for 3 hours per day. Chica Marie will stay home and work with her therapists to try to tease out some of the things she simply will not talk about but seem to cause her the most anguish. Last week during play therapy with her therapist she revealed she trusts me a lot more than her bio mom. At one point, the doll family invited bio mom to live with them but quickly asked her to leave because she was being inappropriate. I suppose, it's because she trusts me that she pushes me away so hard. I am hoping we can make more headway with some one-on-one therapy with her as our little bubble of family intimacy is popping. Chica Marie will attend daycare for half-days with Love Bug the last week of June and then full days when I am back at work in July.


Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

New Normal

I will be returning to work starting July 6th. I mean, I've been working from home since before the stay at home order started. But, we are hoping our county will move to green soon (we just moved to yellow this past Friday) and therefore it will be time to physically return to work. In the beginning I was very anxious to get back to work. Now, somehow I flipped and do not want to return to work at all. I don't know at what point this happened, but here we are now. Regardless, I will need to return to work, if I like to keep eating and paying for all the stuff I keep buying online. Unfortunately, the powers that be, who had been cooking up a plan to change our working hours prior to the whole pandemic quarantine thing, have used this as an opportunity to push their agenda. For 10 years I have worked from 8:30 - 4:30 Monday through Friday. Now, we are being asked to extend our hours to be open from 8 am to 8 pm Monday through Thursday and Friday from 8 am to 4 pm. Oh, and Saturday from 9 am to 11 am. What the actual fuck? I understand the need to be open later hours for folks who work second shift (although, you would think 20 years ago when they created the job centers nationally, they could have considered this?), but this makes things harder. We have been home, working and doing the best we can, trying to make it through all of this and now, as we are figuring out how to open things up, we get slammed with some big new change. As I contemplated how to make this work for my family, it made me more and more angry. I need my job, but I did not sign up for this and these hours were going to be hell on my family. At one point my supervisor mentioned my coworker (who is the lowest in seniority and by union rules, should have the last choice on new hours) had custody of her kids 60% of the time and therefore couldn't work Monday evenings. I lost my shit. I didn't yell, but I emphatically told my supervisor, "I completely understand. I have custody of my children 100% of the time. So, I am not trying to be unsympathetic to the needs of the team, but these extended hours are a real hardship for me and my family. And, if this is going to be an indefinite change, I need to brush up my resume and consider other options. I need to do what is best for my family." My coworker friend will be taking a promotion to another job when we return to work, so I know it scared my supervisor, to think of losing two of the career advisors who know their jobs and do them well. Eventually, it was worked out that I would work from home on Monday's and work from 8 am to 4 pm Monday through Friday. This schedule works until the kids go back to school. And then I will need to either see if the daycare can take them to school in the morning or hope and pray the powers that be revert back to our normal hours. My supervisor promised the board would "take a look" at the data to see if the extended hours are needed. I don't know if I believe they will actually consider the data, since it was already on their agenda. Thus far, I am not enjoying this "new normal."

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

Mental Health Break

I know we are staying home to "flatten the curve" and slow the spread of the virus. I know we are practicing social distancing and wearing masks for the more vulnerable, those susceptible to not only becoming sick but to having a harder time fighting off the virus. I know these things. But, the mental health toll the quarantine is having on me and my family has become a greater worry for me. I know I have gone through a lot of barrel rolls emotionally since being sent home from work on March 17th. I know my children have experienced the same tumultuous roller coaster emotionally. They were sent home from school with the promise of returning in a few weeks. Without getting a chance to say good-bye to their friends or teachers, they were told school would not resume this school year. They had to adjust to learning online, seeing their teachers and friends on Zoom calls or via videos and pictures. We continued therapy sessions, but this too was via a Zoom call and not in person. Their world narrowed to no physical contact with friends or family outside of our home. And then the playgrounds were closed. The kids had to get used to mom working from home and hushing them during work calls. They quickly bored with playing in their own backyard and walks were exciting but also got boring when we kept going to the same place (because I was not sure what was open and what the mask requirements were of other places). The few times we have gone out as a family, the kids had to wear masks, which caused sensory issues and heightened their anxiety. For my Love Bug, the anxiety has caused him to fear weather events and separation from me. For Chica Marie, her focus has been on adoption and missing her family of origin. The rate of tantrums, sibling fights, crying or yelling spells has increased in duration and intensity. This past weekend Chica Marie tried running away from home. We are cracking, we are breaking. And I have gotten to the point where I feel the damage done mentally to my family might outweigh the good we did staying home. 

My state is working through three levels of quarantine. Each county is broken down into a red (stay home, most restrictive), yellow (cautiously opening some businesses) and green (least restrictive yet still not back to pre-quarantine society) category. My county is currently in red but moving to yellow on June 4th. Other counties are already in green as of last week, with more joining green the end of this week. I can hardly keep track of what is open, what we are "allowed" to do and if or when it will be happening. I am not returning to the office while we are under yellow status. I am not sure how low our numbers (of new COVID cases) need to go to get us into green or how long that might take. My supervisor is saying he doesn't think we will be back in the office until July. Our daycare is opening next week, our local pool is not opening at all this year. Primero has no idea when he will be able to return to work. I need to create a re-entry strategy for Love Bug because going back to daycare and being away from me will be hard for him. I am hoping to have enough notice from work to do that. 

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

Better Not Being Alone

In the beginning of the quarantine I debated with myself if I was better off having the kids here with me or if I would have been better off alone. Ultimately, I came to the conclusion that I was happier with the kids being here, even if they drove me bonkers with their demands and incessant fighting. I wasn't alone and lonely. I was talking to a friend on messenger last night about and issue with my neighbors (possible domestic violence issues). I asked how she was doing and she said, since she is working her kids have to be with their fathers and it hurts so much to not be with her kids, especially since her daughter is only 10 months old. But, she needs to keep them safe, so she is making the sacrifice. Reading what she wrote made me feel so sad and grateful once again to be home with my kids. Even during our difficult times.


Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

Posting Once Again

I don't know why I stopped writing. It's not like I didn't need this space or found a better way of working through things. Maybe I just got tired? In any event, I am not utterly abandoning this space and want to return and make the time to continue writing about the struggles and the beauty of adoption and infertility.

We have had endured some challenging times during this extended lockdown. The last Wednesday in April I got so upset (at something rather trivial) I left the house for two hours. I just walked out sobbing and drove around sobbing until somehow I found my way back home. Only, I didn't want to go home. I needed two friends to talk me into going home. In the end, I only returned because I needed to use the bathroom (and had no mask to use a public restroom) and needed to charge my phone. I hid in my bedroom until it was time to make dinner. The day ended with all four of us making dinner together and all was right with the world.

The children have been doing zoom calls for therapy. I have been doing therapy over the phone, as has Primero and my women's empowerment group has been meeting via Zoom as well. I hide in my van, since there really is no privacy in my house. Primero sits with the kids, reluctantly. He is not working (arcade places are not essential).

The things we are doing well:

1. Taking time outside (when it is not raining)
2. Not worrying too much about school or work and stopping those activities by dinnertime.
3. Trying to stay in touch (the kids have been video chatting with their family)
4. Spending quality time together (we developed a "mom night" for the kids, where they take turns staying up with me while their sibling goes to bed - to give them each some one-on-one time with me and break from one another)
5. Staying home
6. Trying new things

Things we could improve:

1. Primero could spend more time with the people living in this home and less time with the virtual people
2. Anxiety (especially for Love Bug)
3. Primero spent the night with his sister-in-law this past weekend
4. Having a little more grace with one another
5. We could be doing a little more school work the teachers have worked so hard on sending to us
6. Mom could have a little more patience. Ok, we all could.





Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

The Quarantine Life

Today is day four. As of right now, my estimated return-to-work date is March 31st. But, we were instructed to bring home a month worth of work. I dreaded this as the dominos began falling last week. First, the schools closed for two weeks. We suspended in-person orientations at work and were given permission to telework for the counties already affected by closures. Then Monday the governor issued closures for all non-essential employees. We were being forced to work from home. Our daycare declared they would stay open unless or until the CDC forced them to close. That came Monday evening. Tuesday morning I had some last minute loose ends to wrap up at work. Primero reluctantly stayed with the kids but I was home before lunchtime. Our quarantine had begun. I took Tuesday afternoon to work out a schedule for me and the little ones. They need structure now more than ever. I quickly decided we would keep our week-day sleep schedule; up at 7:30 am (I am usually up earlier, but I will be ok when it is time to go back) and to bed by 8:30 pm (11 for me). I try to focus the kids on some form of school work in the morning. I don't push for too much, just a little bit to engage their minds. We've watched a lot of educational videos about all kinds of random things, from the Titanic to asteroids, sharks, spiders, camels, and trains (of course). I have a lot of goals for myself to accomplish, one of them being a deep clean of the house. And getting caught up on all kinds of things. But, I still have to work. And trying to keep the kids occupied is a full-time endeavor. We picked up learning packets from school today (they are handing out free lunches and breakfasts for a few hours each day - we go mostly so the kids can have some form of connection to the school and to see staff they miss). I have to make a plan for next week. This is not a vacation! And there are rumors of the kids not returning to school at all (I guess that has happened in other states)! I truly hope that is not the case because I have no idea what I will do. Two weeks is about all I can handle! There are also rumors of the quarantine lasting longer than two weeks. I sincerely hope that is not the case. Yesterday our governor basically shut down the whole state. All business except those considered life critical, are being forced to close or face fines. I am trying to not focus too much on the greater implications to all of this. I need to focus on just keeping us all going and not losing it to a total mutiny. This is not easy!

New Decade

Sometime just before the new year began, I realized this is the start of a new decade. I guess I knew, but I didn’t gutturally know; the deep, feeling knowing. I usually reflect over the last year as the calendar closes in on the new year. But, this year I thought about the last decade. Ten years ago I was still married. Ten years ago I thought I could get pregnant. Ten years ago I was such a different person than I am right now. The last ten years have definitely been the hardest of my life. I lost my marriage and hope of a biological child. I lost the idea of how I thought my life would go, how I thought things would be. But, the last ten years also brought me to motherhood. It made me stronger, it made me think more and dream a little less. I started writing a new story from the one I envisioned in 2010. In the next ten years I am hoping to find more balance and less-hardship. But, if the last ten years has taught me nothing else, no matter what I will get through the bad and there will always be good.

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.