Hank and Huck

This morning when I woke, we had new puppy Hank--all sweet chubby puppy face and wobbly puppy legs. But... I couldn't find Huckie. Then I remembered that we'd "exchanged" Huckie for Hank. And then I was grief-stricken for Huckie, wondering if she was wondering where the heck we were and when we were coming to bring her back. Then I woke up properly and realized none of this had really happened. 

*Extra Huckie hugs*

I told my dream to Nu and we marched up to Big A and informed him that we needed a third puppy.

(I love how my brain braids things--I wonder if "Hank" is because I spent time with JL's "Henry" last weekend and "Hank" is a form of "Henry" but sounds a bit like "Huck?")

Louise Glück: Matins

Matins

You want to know how I spend my time?

I walk the front lawn, pretending

To be weeding. You ought to know

I’m never weeding, on my knees, pulling

Clumps of clover from the flower beds: in fact

I’m looking for courage, for some evidence

My life will change, though

It takes forever, checking

Each clump for the symbolic

Leaf, and soon the summer is ending, already

The leaves turning, always the sick trees

Going first, the dying turning

Brilliant yellow, while a few dark birds perform

Their curfew of music. You want to see my hands?

As empty now as at the first note.

Or was the point always

To continue without a sign?

---------------------------------

I presume a four-leaved clover is the "symbolic/ Leaf" Glück is looking for here? Here's At's hand holding some luck he made himself: A four-leaf clover engineered with spit--he told me he tried sweat first, but it didn't hold. (circa 2008, SD's outdoor wedding in DC; Baby Nu in the stroller.)

I've loved this poem for years and am so happy for Louise Glück's Nobel--poets so rarely get big prizes; but are there non Eurocentric writers who are being overlooked? Absolutely.

King, Chavez, Parks... and Penrose

When I heard Sir Roger Penrose won the Physics Nobel today, the first thing that came to mind was that At had had some playdates with RP's son Maxwell (named for the mathematician) back in Oxford. Was it 2001? 2002? We knew Penrose on the fringes of JSA's work with him so I googled "Penrose and JSA," and sure enough--tons of collabs. Gosh--that feels like such a lifetime ago.

Today, I received logo-ed masks from the KCP program (King-Chavez-Parks, baby!) and will wear them everywhere with pride.

And still, we...

Does Huckie look sad? I think Huckie looks sad.

If I squint, Big A looks sad too.  (God, I miss his stubble--he has to shave for the N-95.) I think we're all at least a little sad. And I don't know what to do about it.

A serious chat with KB yesterday (parts of our families are so far away); another one with JL + Henry the pup with soup drop-off and commiserations and apologies (I thought her new number was her stalker contacting me for info and had blocked it); and some plans that didn't make with LB and BS. 

But still, we're ok: Turns out, the class I thought started Monday actually starts on Friday (a student alerted me!), so I'm sitting pretty on prep; Nu had a nice RE camp at UU (typically a weekend, but three hours in the pandemic); got all caught up in At's latest exploits via text; and I got Sansu sushi today after more than six months!*

*I thought we were six months into the pandemic--but as Stirrup Queens reminded me, we're eight months in. EIGHT. So I'm redoing the math--I haven't had Sansu in over eight months.

Making Mean-ing

I mean, I must have known in my bones this morning. 

After all, when Big A came home from work looking kinda tired, I asked (sincerely) if he wanted me to butter his muffin... 

Then At wished us a happy Mean Girls Day on family chat and we remembered... Nu thought we should watch it after dinner... and so we did.

It made me nostalgic for all the Mean Girls parties we've had in the last 15 years. The last one was in 2018 for my first-year seminar students and they laughed at the mom-style menu-puns almost as much as I did.

On my way home

A long teaching day, classroom observations, many small fires, a handful of delayed deadlines, tired to the bone (two hours of sleep!), and hungry...

But I got to see At for a bit--both of us masked--and give him a 'backhug' and a (new to him) Du Bois for his Boss Day (tomorrow); a small but affectionate pre-class chat with my mom; knowing I will see NuScoutHuck in minutes...

Then a leg of this rainbow (such an intense VIOLET!) and a go-go-go green light--and there's a definite feeling of "yes" in the air.

Almost 13

Sometimes my child seems really far away and the world seems really big, but I trust I'll still be able to watch out for them. 

When they're hidden, I can use other signs and senses to make sure they're ok. 

I trust they'll be able to make the right decisions when I'm too far away to help--moving away from strangers, stepping off the path when necessary.

It helps that they stop when the path forks, wordlessly discussing the way forward with me.

Wild Things

All of this made me quite anxious.

All of this made me very happy.

__________________________

I chaired the WGS sessions of the MASAL conference from home; finalized the WLC second-seven week course syllabus; worked on Nu's birthday plans; hiked with L; practiced saying "fiddly," "wobbly," and "stodgy" in preparation for watching GBBO later in the evening... Full day.

Off

And we're off for the day, making the trip to Yellow Springs to see MIL who's had a few surgeries in the six months of the pandemic. Four hours there and four hours back, and the plan is to return home later tonight so we don't expose MIL to our germs or pick up icky hotel cooties ourselves.

(I've packed an extra change and puppy supplies, just in case!)

Underneath it all

 I wonder what Big A's grandmom, described in this NYT thing as "Louise Lasky, who operates the Teddy Bear Hospital of New City, N.Y." would think of this, as Nu has been doctoring teddy bears too: 

That's (1) a gift shop teddy (2) A sad teddy with their mask on (3) a happy teddy with bruises, an extra eye (and Nu's eyebrows!!). As Big A summarized on FB "When your child is talented, and spooky."

Today started off as too much and ended with the news of the loss of RBG, and then the texts and emails from sisters as we had lost one of our own/as though we'd lost one of our own. I think of her 80+ old body doing those 20 pushups a day and working with her trainer because she knew how much was at stake; I think of her making it possible for so many of us; I think of her learning and doing better when it seemed like she didn't immediately get it right... I wish her a peaceful rest and I wish all of us safe passage into a better world. I hope it comes soon.

Six Months; Six Words

indefinite night-day-night / no insight

(Six months since our stay-at-home order and a six-word memoir inspired by the NYT pandemic poetry piece.)

A Lot

There's been a lot of this all week--gray, grainy, grimy weather and consequently there's been a lot of basic, blah moodiness. 

I'm pretty proud of how we've managed to come through three weeks of in-person classes with no spikes in our Covid numbers; of my students who are journaling like champions; my Nu who seems quite businesslike in handling their own online learning... 

And yet, everything is simultaneously sad and difficult--and feels like a lot to handle. 

In today's virtual faculty meeting, my colleagues were mostly on mute and off camera (by request), and it just emphasized how I never see them in the hallways anymore. And then at the end... the retirement resolution for JG--who'd shown up to my job talk, befriended me the summer I moved to MI, has been mentor and sister and friend...  and it was too, too much. I went looking for someone to give me a hug and got some from Nu, Big, A and (of course!) Scout  + Huck. "Surrogate hugs" as I explained to JG--the renowned hugger--in a call later in the evening through a third or fourth round of tears.

I'm trying to remember that when I took this picture at the end of some long day this past week, I thought I could see glimmers and shafts of light--what Pix and I and other Sacred Heart School kids used to call "heavenly blessings" when we used to try standing in these sunlit spotlights before exams. I can barely see them in this picture, yet I know they were there. 

Talisman

When tongues tip to farewell

--fare well, fare wonderfully.

Like strangers, like heartbeat:

"Thank you for my childhood."

"Thank you for being my child."

* I tried to tell Scout this isn't yoga, but he just pouted.

Beginning

 

Today's quiet beginning--the Red Cedar River, someone's rock cairns, a blue heron waiting by the rapids, the solid comfort of L's footfall, patience, and advice by my side...

The rest of the day was gloriously kid-centered--only fair as I hadn't seen At all week, and actually--hadn't seen much of Nu all week between breakfast and dinner. The 21-year-old and the 12-year-old have been busy in the first weeks of school... as have I.  I did a ton of stuff before 10 am, including conferencing with a colleague about a new course. Then Nu and I drove up to Alma, bringing At's (delayed) Boss Day presents and treats with us. We met At at the MUN House and took a walk away from campus, each of us taking turns to call out which way we should head next. Then back-hugs and presents, and declarations of love. And love.

Nu and I headed to the new bookstore helmed by D whom we loved as our pastor when we used to go to Mt. Pleasant UU. And we visited, and congratulated, and browsed, and bought a pile of books. Then on to the antique store next door where I found a few bird-themed tchotchkes and Nu found old teddy bears (Big A's grandmother Louise--whom Nu never met--used to run a teddy bear hospital, so I find Nu's attention to teddies especially endearing). Then a conversation at the store with D and J  about their child K--an old student--and all three of us fittingly so happy and proud of her grad degree and the important work she's doing. One more stop to drop off a present for Nu's friend K and then finally back to Lansing. 

But wait! There's more! Nu actually has another outdoor playdate later in the evening--watching the new Mulan outdoors at a friend's place, and I drop them off. For the first time in months, Nu is not at home when I am. Next stop, I zoom to a virtual retirement party for J and M, and after an hour and half of stories and memories, I get choked up saying goodbye, although there's no way J and I won't be friends for a few more decades at least. 

And then after the nonstop social rush of the day, the absolute loneliness of the evening hits me. At is at college, Nu at M's, Big A napping before his night shift, Scout and Huck napping alongside him and not even caring about dinner time...  

Then the puppies wake up, and I feed them. And Big and I settle in with leftovers (the remains of the coconut soup and pao he'd made for my Boss Day yesterday!) to watch the first ep of Raised by Wolves--which is terrifying. I keep exclaiming about my heart thumping so hard--until Big A reaches for my wrist, counts my pulse, and tells me I'm fine. I'm so not. Doctors are so literal. Haha. 

Now to stay awake until it's time to pick up my Nu...

At politics

I haven't seen At for a few days now, so I loved being able to see him in this tongue-in-cheek "Anti-Union PSA" video he made for his YDSA's Labor Day activity. 

<happy+proud face><happy+proud face><happy+proud face><happy+proud face>

(Also, campus looks deserted!)

Secret garden

Nu told me they loved The Secret Garden at the beginning of our pandemic spring (the modest India references and the secretive Mary as much as the garden itself, I suspect). That has had me planning and planting in our semi-courtyard for months now. At not only built that little bench, but helped with much of the hard landscaping as well.

Today, on the last day of August, it was time to get a picture. 

Nu is in it--way, way back in the corner. 

Growing Up

Today's picture (snapped just outside the Japanese Garden at MSU) is a giggle and reminds me of a baby version of a medieval penis tree.  I haven't grown up, clearly.

Nu had agreed to participate in the UU youth group's year-long 'Coming of Age' program, and yesterday's welcome ceremony was poignant.  There was a particular moment in the ceremony where the facilitator went around the Zoom screen family by family--with the child saying "Thank you for my childhood" and the parent(s) saying "Thank you for being my child." Gulp. 

Nu will be a teenager in less than two months.

Got that look

I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm fine.

Feeling like everything from 2 through 12 is normal. Right?

(Full teaching day; have to talk really loudly through my mask; feel bad about having to remind students about masks sometimes; but I think we're beginning to get to know each other, yay; dropped off At's kettle bells and got a hug; went home to dinner already on the table thanks to Big A; Nu seemed to have managed the first full day of online school okay; kiddie cuddles from Nu and puppies; a binge of Indian Matchmaking with Big A; and so to bed.)

Today's (s)log

Yesterday's picture, and a tiny today update. 

Met all my classes; my students seem lovely! My international students patched in via video, and that went ok too. I am grieving the loss of classroom intimacy--video, masks, distancing, and having to sit in rows instead of a circle are all messy. But I get it--and I think we'll get through it. 

Got to meet At before afternoon classes to pass on some freezer staples, I and was chuffed to see he had two masks and long sleeves on. Yay! I walked him back to his house and got a "back hug" as he turned to get the stairs. Seeing At made me so happy.

My last class ended late and then I headed to a socially distant picnic at the president's house for our new MFA director. Both of them have worked really hard on the program even through the strangeness of the summer, and I was happy to celebrate with them. But the sun had set by the time I drove home--another reminder this summer is ending. Luckily, I had a long conversation with JG to keep me company in the car. 

Back home, I discovered that L had dropped off some of Nu's favorite brownies and a ton of snacks as a back-to-school treat for Nu (they start tomorrow). My Nu was already in bed, but I was told they lovvvvvvvved me when I snuck in for a goodnight kiss. And then Big A woke up, and we had a teensy dessert-date chit-chat (me with Nu's brownies, Big A with the leftovers of the Culver's from his and Nu's dinner) before he headed off to work. I'll be sleeping with Scout and Huck tonight.

Senior moment

Every year I keep expecting it to get easier when At heads to college. But it doesn't. It was awful that first year. And the second. And OMG, the third was a real sucker-punch.

The big difference is that At is now so like a grownup (I mean--he IS 21), and our dynamic has shifted enough that I don't have to try to hide my sadness anymore. I just embrace my old, needy mama role. 

He was dawdling over breakfast while I watered plants and I was sharing that I wasn't sad because of him leaving in the pandemic even--just sad about him leaving; how I had expected it to get easier; and who knows what next year might bring--again not because of the pandemic but because of grad school etc. and how far away THAT might be. He was so sweet, listened with empathy, and hugged me so tight--and I had myself a good (great!) cry. 

We packed his car together but then it wouldn't start. If it is possible for a face to both light up and fall at the same time, I think my face may have. But At was able to jump start it and proudly used to it reassure me of how he's a capable champion at life and then he set off for senior year.  💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

Nu and I had a sleepover in the rumpus room with Scout and Huck because, that's how we've been distracting ourselves since year one. 🤗 🤗 🤗 🤗