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.

It's getting hot in here (SO HOT)

I've just embraced the non-AC-having, south-facing double-storied-windows-and-skylight having solarium as my personal beach: working on my tan, reading trashy novels, drinking cold drinks, and falling asleep in a sweaty heat haze. I guess it's not as hot as last summer because of the tarp over one skylight. which we're not fixing until next spring? I mean--I don't know if we'll get to a beach this summer. So I have some travel books up there too (Greece!). Sometimes I'll text the family chat to say, "at the beach--bring your books and drinks" and might get a kid or two to read with me for a while, but no one loves this sweaty lounge spot more than I do.


And yes--it always makes us chuckle that Nelly's transparent play to get women to take their clothes off has somehow been my (conservative, India-raised) mom's favorite summer song since At was a baby. But yes, it's a good idea to take off some clothes.

And it IS getting so hot--I was going to cook, but it turned out that we got some pizza from Art's instead.

All in a row

Red Cedar River
Are they on a field trip or something?

I'd looked forward to my massage all morning and luxuriated in the afterglow for the rest of the day. I'd been debating getting one on Monday (spas are part of Michigan's slow open this week) and then I pulled something during the yoga flow I've been doing for decades and that clinched it.

Also, it's our wedding anniversary! Perhaps sometime later this year, we'll be able to get away for our yearly 'honeymoon' trip, but not just yet. Big A and I made our wedding anniversary dinner and a big pitcher of margaritas together, Big A ordered us yet another cookbook (Jubilee by Toni Tipton-Martin), then one of our jokey family dinners, followed by our nightly two eps of Avatar. Things are getting tense in the Airbender's universe, and At and Nu gave me a severe warning about reading up on how it ends. They're in bed now; just saying.

Wheels

 
Yesterday...
a socially distant biking hang with their neighborhood pal.









Today...
following dad onto the Peloton.

Faces, Places

Facebook has been killing me with these oldies. Seven years ago. Just seven... and we're back to At on the cusp of high school, Nu as five-year-old.

Here's what I wrote about them then: "That's not the victory salute for winning awards in English, Math, Science, and Art, becoming a member of the new model U.N., and moving on to high school. Nor is that the look of a kid who taught herself to read and count ALL THE THINGS at five and is moving on to first grade as the youngest member of her new classroom. It simply says: Watch out, world! Summer vacation's here!"

My loves are the best thing in my life. And I'm so blessed that they make time for each other, are mostly patient with each other, and always find something to obsess over together--working their way through Dr. Who or Avatar or Lego binges, or making up strategy games, or playing video games companionably side-by-side. (In my ideal world they'd be reading side-by-side, but I can't have everything.)

The pandemic has been harrowing in so many ways, but it did give me a chance to relive having all the kids in the same place all over again. That part was bliss.

A Long Way from Home/Normal/Ideal

 Big A is in front of the tree;
Nu and At are in the foreground...
for the kids, their first time out of the house since March!

NAACP march to the capitol today. We heard several stirring and compelling speeches; the youth speakers were especially impressive. I wish this time our momentum results in change that will support rather than punish BlPOC.

And I wish I could say it felt good after, but I came home and fell apart: I had a thunderstorm-induced headache, cried because an article had to be changed from MLA to Chicago style, and  couldn't even rouse myself to make dinner... At made grilled cheese for himself and Nu,  Nu fed Scout and Huck, Big A got some delivery, I ate a tub of colorful chips... everyone survived.

I feel like I did a A LOT of railing, crying, and whining (mostly to a very kind and listening Big A), and the kids seemed to play a lot of video games and sang a lot of "It's a long, long way to Ba Sing Se"--ostensibly to cheer me up.

Sketch-y

Commissioned a drawing of Big A and the kids for Father's Day (it's looming!). Love how in this sketch everyone looks racially ambiguous. Right? Or maybe I'm just being fanciful. Not to suggest my multiracial babies automatically embody equality or possibility, but they're lovely beings. Mostly intentionally.

Spent most of yesterday and today in FYS planning workshops--twice the usual work to do since we have to plan for several contingencies and just two months to do it all...

And now I have to go write a kind note to the colleague who said that they had been "g*pped" and hope they take it the right way and didn't already use that kind of language around students.

M. U. M. Day

The kids declared today M.U.M. Day (Make-Up-Mother's Day) since I'd been in quarantine last month and didn't have a particularly good Mother's Day. I believe I even called it the worst mother's day ever (you know me).

There was tea and oatmeal (extra brown sugar and pistachios!) waiting for me when I got back from my morning hike, and cards and "Wobbly" who can be a pet or a necklace (or both!).

There was high tea in fancy hats later and lots of cuddles all day.

Best (and first) M.U.M. Day ever. (And I got to disengage from the world for the day.)

Moping

This is Scout's favorite "mope" position and today, he kept switching sides back and forth while Nu and I listened to Sue Monk Kidd's The Invention of Wings--something I've wanted to do since we fell in love with the radical Grimke sisters when we were reading Rad American Women A-Z five years ago. (Incidentally, while there have been lots of girl-centered hero books since, Rad American Women A-Z remains my favorite because of the way it centers social justice.)

When I'm not actively occupying myself with something productive  (good) or self-flagellating with the news (bad), I find I too am moping in various positions and locations like our Scout. 

Somethings

I'm uplifted by the green madness of everywhere; purified by the outrage and anger of everywhere.

I startle awake, heart pounding, at full alert, 3-4 times a night.

I am happy-proud our 12-year-old Nu gave $100 to the Minnesota Freedom Fund.

I dreamt I heard protestors chanting "no justice, no peace" on our street.

Out on the river, it feels like everything's normal.

(Although nothing is, really.)

"Indian Non-Binary Menarche Celebration"

Perhaps there was something portentous about the red lilies Nu planted this week... we celebrated with the red velvet cake they decided was appropriate. Big A made them a card with a "Congratulations" followed by a giant period and we all thought that was hilarious--that morning's laughter was definitely a celebration. But the South Indian in me needed to celebrate Nu more.

I googled "Indian Non-Binary Menarche Celebration" and got nothing. My own menarche was marked by a wedding-level gala replete with catering and professional videographer--but it was too focused on "womanhood and fertility." (It wasn't as lavish as this video I found online, but quite close!)

So we did things our way. We got grandparents and aunts on video calls and read Nu a dedication that focused on their maturity, strength... their ability to reinvent themselves. We kept some elements of the traditional ceremony--anointing with turmeric but connecting its deep roots and healing capabilities with family; playing Carnatic music, but especially Bharati's song about his "kannama" hoping Nu would appreciate the fluidity with which he uses this feminine form of endearment for Lord Krishna. At brewed them a pot of spearmint from his own veggie plot, Grandma S made them a slideshow, the Bangalore grandparents and A Pinni beamed the whole time, N Pinni read them Maya Angelou's "Still I Rise."

Nu got the traditional trays of offerings (fruit, pampering products, books, and a ton of girlie presents), and we added rainbow-themed sandals, bag, visor, and sweetened the deal further with unlimited screen time for the rest of the day.  I think the pictures do a good job of demonstrating my earnestness and Nu's own enjoyment in all the ceremonial love. 😍 😍 

Two Months +

I was hit with an intense wave of nostalgia for things the way they used to be a few months ago when I stopped by college to water my plants and pick up some books.

Plants are doing fine;
i need to tidy some shelves.

I didn't see ANYONE--it made me yearn for colleagues or students and prompted me to wonder if the somewhat outdated model of faculty offices would be another casualty of the pandemic.

Will all the years of shared office space through grad school and adjuncting, yearning for an office of my own, and then finally earning an office with a tiny window have been for nothing?

At read me his thesis on John Brown as we drove north, and we were both surprised how quickly we seemed to get to the Maple River.

Muddy Darling

Nu: Very muddy and so very darling.

At has been busy with writing his thesis, so this week Nu has been a superstar planting ground-cover and honeysuckle and viburnum and lilacs and lilies...

(Deer have already eaten the lilacs and lilies., but we're hoping they--plants not deer--can recover and make a comeback.)

Defence

The kids rigged up some netting around the veggie plots today. The good news is that our raggedy three-legged-deer is doing well. And well, there is no bad news, but the tomato plants were chomped down to the stalks, and I'd like some tomatoes this year.

This sequel actually started last night, when Scout woke me up around two am, and I found our friend was back when I turned on the lights. The great news is although their gait is wobbly as they move from one tomato plant to another, their gallop is speedy--something I discovered as a fresh outburst from Scout startled them and they shot off into the dark.

Ha... Ha... Happiness

Still a bit weary--but this picture's sole purpose is to make me chuckle. At is in his "Prestige Worldwide" tee and a Wonder Woman apron, with hesitance about plunging his hands into the dough displayed in every inch of his being. (The long-ago speech therapist was right--sensory play is the answer.) And of course, being in the kitchen with At is its own happiness too.

I guess I would not have felt so hurt yesterday if I were working on a good project... and I have identified a couple of writing projects I could tackle. I haven't actually started them or anything though. Haha.

Plotting

What shall we plant in our veggie plots?

Full-blown Weltschmerzen

I had barely laced up my shoes for a walk-run when Nu texted to say there was a deer in the yard and "they look like they're injured." I think I smiled that the 12-year-old was generously using their own preferred neutral pronoun "they" instead of "it" to refer to the deer. Anyway, I climbed back upstairs, and we looked at Nu's deer through the rumpus room doors. 

The poor thing was badly hurt--way more than I expected. Both back legs were bloody and one leg had no hoof, just bone peeking through. It was surprising how they didn't look like they were in pain--actually they seemed very calm and unafraid, although they left when Nu tried to give them some blueberries. 

We called The Humane Society who said they weren't licensed for wildlife and told us to call the non-emergency police line where no one picked up. Nu and I texted friends down the street to be on the lookout. Nu said as we both started to cry that the deer would probably die from the injury or get euthanized, but there ought to be treats and kindness in the meantime.

The thing that really gets me though was how the deer looked at us--unmistakeable eye-contact through the glass doors from 15-feet away. A bit pleading, like--can you help me? I had to go cry in the shower for a while. We didn't know how to help.

Incidentally, that's exactly how I felt when my cousin shared this video (it has English subtitles) about the plight of the migrant laborers in India yesterday on the cousin groupchat. I kind of went off the deep end so she called to check on me and panicked when she couldn't reach me (because I was in the shower crying yesterday too).

Countdown and Cope

People have been asking me how I am, and I have to say--I'm great!  I dreaded the countdown to Big A's departure, but now I get to countdown to his return from NYC!

I'm booked so solid today, I doubt I'll even have to time to miss him. Work meetings to discuss campus contingencies, a panel presentation on social justice in my colleague's class on pandemics, a hike with L, and book discussion with the 'Food for Thought' people. Then dinner prep and dinner with the kids.

From yesterday's picture, it would seem coping involves midday Margaritas, all the Oreos, and the last twenty pages of The Great Believers I saved so I could be anguished over something unrelated to saying goodbye to Big A.

Looking Up

Made some good progress clearing debris from the garden beds, dredged leaves from the pond, found two morels, and would have worked some more in the garden, but I stepped in something yucky (bad puppies!!) and temporarily lost my will to live.

But seriously--the hope of planting veggies fills me with hope. It signals things like: *happening in the future* and *moving forward* and I need that right now.

After all, the lockdown seems like an infinite present, where cancelations and uncertainties abound: no biennial August family reunion in Montana; Dear Evan Hansen tickets on hold for a year; no idea if classes will be online on in-person come fall...

At was inducted into the national history honor society, so we celebrated today as "History Day." I made him a timeline of all the places we've lived, and taught him how to make mango lassi; he picked a historical movie for the fam to watch--Philadelphia, which ties in nicely to what I'm reading--Rebecca Makkai's wonderful The Great Believers.