Teensy Story

Once there was a blanket reading fort in little sibling Nu's room and I said to older sibling At--hey look, how cute, Nu made such a comfy reading fort. 

So At came and looked. And he asked--Am I invited? When Nu moved over, he crawled in and fell asleep until lunchtime with his bony feet sticking out.

LOLOLOL

The End.

Tiny Fan Club

Sad from the book I'm reading--Etaf Rum's A Woman is No Man--and consequently a bit mad at everyone too, BUT THIS IS TOO CUTE!!

Also cute, At asking me if my book was an LOTR spinoff because the title is reminiscent of my favorite Eowyn quote. 

Beautiful Ordinary 1, 2, 3

1. Compared to yesterday,  today's headcount was easier 😊.*

2. Pandemic realization #87654: I've always loved our big, communal family study, but it's a challenge when the foreseeable future holds a lot of overlapping meeting schedules.

3. I was SO proud of bestie KB at our final meeting today as she worked, spoke up, and fought for everyone's wellbeing. We voted on an important resolution that will hopefully make it a bit easier for people to work online without jumping through HR-related hoops.

* A note on how much I love these four and how much I love to see them hanging out together and how blessed I am that At (21) and Nu (12) will find things and shows and games to share across the generational and gender gaps. 

But as a reminder of the real here--the togetherness of this week is brought to you by Big A confiscating the kids' phones into next Tuesday.

How can we know?

Normal is long ago in the past and faraway in the future, but today I was indoors all day with rain and meetings.

Every now and then I could hear my babies and had to trust that there were two human and two puppy kids in the tangle and that they were all kinda doing ok. 

Anti-Capitalist Walk-Talk

It was At's turn to walk with me today, and we ended up in hammocks after 20 or so mins, because it had gotten quite hot again. Our resident socialist was discussing the cultural theorist Mark Fisher, whose chapter titles are whimsical and full of possibility: "What if you held a protest and everyone came?" "It is easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism."  But I guess I didn't know the jarring reason why Fisher's writing stopped.

And also, I'll confess--my darling boy's Jesus of the Naxalites mien charms and alarms me in almost equal measure and for different reasons.

On the outskirts of the ordinary

In case you can't tell, Nu got really dressed up... to go on a walk... with me... down our own driveway...

For a few minutes this morning, singing along to Lizzo (Juice) and rigging a bath lighting fixture out of things we already had like X-mas ornament hangers(!), I was blissfully happy--until the enormity of everything else stomped through my chest.

Big A has tummy pains that are terrifying in their intensity--I jumped out of the bath yesterday thinking I'd have to take him to the E.R. right away, but he won't go and he won't do alternative remedies like cumin-turmeric water, and he won't make an appointment with his doc. I don't know what to do, frankly.

At has been in a haze--some of it is allergies and allergy meds, but my sweet child has seemed sad, faraway, and unapproachable all day.

Scout has been acting like a puppy, playing tag extra hard and doing puppy things like he hasn't for years--chewing on pillows and running away with people's slippers.

Hucky? Hucky is always just Hucky. My Hucky bear never cares.

Babies w/o Breakfast

The biggest = the saddest.

We're moving to a different online instructional platform at work, and my morning meeting ran late (there are so many morning meetings!!) and according to Big A's phone pic, some of the kids got hungry and anxious for breakfast. 😂

It's gloriously cooler with gray-stormy-gloomy weather outside. I canceled all school-adjacent activities for the 12-year-old, and can hear them cackling with their older sibling over ridiculous videos in the rumpus room now.

Out of the meeting, but deep into the woods of my email and editing...

Making Normal

At and Nu made me tea from the mint they'd harvested and dried last week.

Also, I should confess that I start a "tradition" nearly every other second. Here, the kids had  indulged--reluctantly--my proposition that we do yoga together, so I got them new yoga mats to sweeten the request (they immediately had a 'mat fight' and a 'telescope session' while I tried to save the tea from ending up in our laps; it wasn't zen :).

In the meantime, other incipient 'traditions' from earlier on in this pandemic--bake-alongs, hours-long cousins-zoom-chats, checking in on CF, EM, CC,  KB, JG, and students who cropped up in my head on a weekly (at least) basis have fallen off.

This week's realization is that I'm trying to remake normal or carry on like things are normal when they're patently not. I suspect I'll be back to upholding practices to make things feel less turbulent soon, but in the meantime, let me acknowledge my sad, madcap need to manage a worldwide pandemic.

Mostly here

I took an accidental selfie while trying to get a picture of Big A and the puppies the other day, and first, my skin can't really be that clear--what?! But also, my half face is a solid metaphor for my current fragmentation--how it feels a bit empty despite checking off most of my family, household, and self-care goals every day (I continue to lag on the professional front).

Eating my second nectarine in the hammock today was blissful, yes--but also, I could hear myself thinking--hey, look! I'm eating nectarines in a hammock! I'm having such a great time! My somewhat desperate enjoyment of summer, the urgency to do all of the summer things is partly Pure Michigan (ha); but surely, me trying to convince myself things are fine is related to our strange, sad, pandemic times?

Food (related) notes

These are the first of At's tomatoes and he has high hopes about serving them with breadcrumbs and mozzarella whenever they he happens to be ready.

I watched a few eps of the new Masterpiece/PBS orientalist fantasy Beecham House--somehow simultaneously overblown and underdone. William Dalrymple is a historical consultant on the show and it's directed by Gurindher Chadha, but despite those two it's really, really bad. I got so irritated almost immediately that the hindi dialogue gets mentioned but not translated e.g., "X speaks in Hindi"--What did he say?! How could it not matter?! Anyway, it inspired "Anglo-Indian" elements at dinner prep time--the peach chutney, ghee toast, and curry-poached cod came together from whatever we needed to use up before our Imperfect Foods box arrives tomorrow and the steamed veg was tongue-in-cheek homage to stereotypical Brit cuisine/me running out of time and imagination.

At dinner, it got us talking about trips to England (especially last year's "Cosmopolitan England" Spring term trip) and all the good meals we've eaten there (some straight out of Sainsbury's). I miss travel.

Another Day

When Scout climbs up on my hammock the way he is with Big A here, it can set me rocking for a long time.

I spent most of the day outside and people visited me from time to time as I finished the book I was reading (This Tender Land--I liked the Odyssey framing, but some parts were fairly twee and the ending was overstuffed and hurried).

We got some tiny tomatoes from my veggie plot!  And that was all the actual excitement the day held.

Who's petting whom?

At sent this selfie to family chat claiming Scout was asking for pets, but the picture shows it was Scout who was doing all the petting on his favorite boy.

Right?

1/2 2020 Sonnet

Fond of sun,
my children and I
our thoughts tail us--
or are afterthoughts--
quiet and still as stones
our bones are sinking, singing
their fantasy of thanks to the earth.

Lulled by sun,
my children and I
are adrift on a river of
unhurried afternoons straining
only with birdsong, brilliance, buzz.
We'd say we are quite, quite ruined for the past
why--even the ghosts who call shine bright with future.

Standing

Summer--like snow before--
remakes my world into
an unknowable
loving

In the vines' arch embrace
Leaves bloom, pat me
as I pass in lashes
of love

It seems you dream of
us in the wake of
these whispers--
hearing

Voices that are right, ready:
Justice is late in coming
but protest is already
here.

Some bunny loves the sign!

I was worried about our sign being too loud, but this little guy seemed to paying attention. It looked like a charming vignette and I sent this picture to family chat with the caption "Some bunny loves the sign!" And then they started making jokes about how "we believe bunnies are for chasing."

 It was an eye-roll FML moment on chat--but I not-so-secretly love this IRL. Some ribbing and laughter make this isolation bearable.

Show and Tell

We were just given the new sign this week, and although I'm committed to all of the positions it articulates, it feels a bit performative having it out there next to our 'neighbor' sign and our Little Free Library and its rainbow tassels.

I guess though that if it changes someone's mind or helps someone feel a little less alone, it will have been worth it. And perhaps there should be an additional line for these times: "Wear your mask; show you care." 

At breakfast, Big A said, "it sure looks like old white liberals live here." The kids found that SO hilarious and guffawed long and hard. And they kept riffing on it and bringing up Bradley Whitford's character in Get Out who says "I'd have voted for Obama a third term if I could." It all feels a bit showy and like virtue-signaling--I hope we will do right by all these ideals.

Bad case of...

Huck has a gnarly patch in her under-chin fold that seems to be causing her some distress. But here, she looks adorably pensive, watching At take her picture,  having voluntarily retired to the puppy room (which usually doesn't happen and is yet another indication of her discomfort and pain).

We talked to the vet, but it looks like we'll need to take her in; the thought of leaving the house to go into someplace is giving me anxiety hives.

Moments

A lunchtime visitor-nuzzler actually makes work easier for me in this picture. I wonder how people with younger/needier kids are faring.

I'm up by 6 most days. I have plenty of time to myself before the kids are supposed to wake up at 8:30. We start the day with a 'cuddle'--sitting in the rumpus room between At and Nu while they continue to wake up/tell me about their dreams from last night/plans for the day/random theories about Avatar or the world while Scout and Huck rotate for pets. This is truly the sweetest time in the day for me.

We start breakfast at 9 or there may be 'extensions' esp. as we're not allowed to get off the couch unless the clock is precisely at 9/9:05/9:10 etc. #RandomKidRules. After breakfast they're working on their projects and are technically on their own for lunch (usually leftovers or something microwaveable). I'll get visitors now and then and requests to play cards/watch a video/share some outrage especially if I work in the study, but the next time I see them could be at 4:30 when they're supposed to report to the kitchen to help me with dinner.

All this to say, the kids are quite low-maintenance for me right now, and I have *exactly* two months (we're supposed to start classes on August 24th) to make this time count for something.

Pride (and no prejudice)

All real time Pride events have been canceled obviously, but I wanted to celebrate this June with my lovely, brave ones.

So some tea and presents--button pins, bowties, and bandanas. And it was such a small thing and so simple, but it just made them so happy.

I wished I could bake a cake made out of rainbows for all the kids. Ok. I can't resist a Mean Girls reference, but seriously--I saw father's day posts to estranged fathers from past students on FB that broke my heart. Just love the kids. Just love.

All together now

It was Father's Day, and it was happy.

Look at all these babies with their dada again!