Pandemic parenting expectations after reading a novel about a pandemic

I finished Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel a few days ago, and it made me feel much better about my inability and/or refusal to even attempt to make my kids' lives normal right now.

Normal is over.
And I don't know if this is temporary or permanent.

I do not have the mental energy to do anything more than keep my kids fed, relatively clean, and ensure they survive.
I'm not worried at all about whether their reading or math scores decline as a result of NTI this past spring.
I'm not worried that they aren't reaching whatever "potential" they might have.
I don't know that too many people right now are meeting their greatest potential.
Because self-actualization becomes not so critical in unique situations such as these.
Maybe there are some people, but I'm not one of them.

In St. John Mandel's novel, the pandemic that impacts the world kills somewhere around 99% of the population, and it does so within 48 hours, which I think is a mercy.
There are few things worse than unknowns and uncertainties as far as I'm concerned.
If COVID-19 were far more deadly, perhaps people would be taking it more seriously than they are.
Although I doubt it.

When my kids were younger, it was easier to have "engagement" summers.
They were happy to play in the backyard or go where I thought would be a fun spot.
Now they are older; they don't care, and I don't care enough to fight with them about it.
And during a COVID summer, my anxiety at being out among other humans, most of whom aren't wearing masks, is greater than my desire to have my kids doing self-actualization activities.
We won't be going to museums or malls or anywhere that we don't absolutely have to go.

A parent I interviewed for a magazine article recently said that either she or her husband go to the store "as tribute," which I thought was the most brilliant thing ever and am now applying to my life.

We have always kept the bar pretty low for entertaining our children, and I am so glad for that practice now.

As I read the aforementioned book, it occurred to me that kids in this pandemic mostly 1. died or 2. had to survive in ways that were probably horrible.
Their parents, were they even still alive, were far too busy finding food or drowning in their own psychological trauma to worry too much about their kids being engaged.

We had a meeting about field hockey, and while I will support N, I also am the type of person who doesn't like to invest too much effort and energy into something that seems fairly unlikely to happen.

This is, of course, the exact opposite of sports enthusiasts who want to be prepared and "ready to play" should the season actually happen.

My personal feeling is that the schools are going to find it difficult enough to figure out how to educate during COVID; I think they aren't going to think it is worth the effort, headache, and liability of extracurricular activities.
I just don't think they are saying this as yet.
But I suspect they will.

Whatever conditioning occurs will be an effort in "pretending to care about sports during pandemic" for me, although this, in truth, isn't too far from my normal "pretending to care about sports" status.

There is an awful lot of going through the motions for me now.
Which may also be permanent or temporary.
Uncertainty is cruel. 

The big ask (N at the university)

The older I get, the more I realize that asking is the absolute best thing you can do for a number of reasons.

First, the worst someone can say to your ask is no, which means you are still at the same point where you started.
You haven't lost anything.

Secondly, most people don't ask at all.
Sometimes the only reason change hasn't been made is because someone hasn't asked for it to be made.
In a perfect world, changes would be made without asking, but this isn't a perfect world.

A case in point.

When I was still N's Girl Scout troop leader, I contacted the city university to ask if the girls could tour and talk to someone in the psychology department.

That psychology department happens to be a very "female-strong" place, so not only were they delighted to meet the troop, they went on the develop a program and badge for other Girl Scout troops.

Fast forward to this spring after N's college visit (which all freshman did at her high school).
She remains interested in psychology, so I asked her if she would want to volunteer in the university's psychology program if they would allow it.
She said yes, so I emailed the contacts I had made at the university.
The worst they could say was "no," in which case N would be able to vegetate at home in front of her phone all summer long.
But they said yes.

And so, N has been going to the university one day a week to learn about the psychology department, what they do, research, etc.
She is networking with both undergrad and graduate students.
She is making an impression on a university professor (who could, perhaps, help mentor her if she chooses a psychology path).
She is learning about psychological research and helping the lab.
She is gaining confidence.

And all I did was ask.

Vacationing in a post-hurricane locale

We had a two week trip to the beach, which for D was a slice o' heaven.
The children and I would not characterize it that way.
That's not to say it was a bad vacation; it was a good vacation.

The place we went, Cape San Blas, was hit by Hurricane Michael in October 2018, so it was, in some ways, a construction zone. We were fortunate that the main road leading there was completed during our visit.

This is what the road going to the Cape looked like last year after the storm hit.



Here is another shot from last year:


So for the building we stayed in to look like this wasn't too bad (below), although it wasn't the lush, tropical beautiful ideal that most vacationers would like. There were railings missing and blue tarpaulins. Our condo was fine, even though they had gotten over 2 feet of water.

When the hurricane happened, D worried a bit, but my rationale was that the area needed our vacation dollars more than ever. And we had no reference point, so why not go and see?

The beach was lovely, and we were a short walk from St. Joseph Peninsula State Park, which was essentially torn in half due to the hurricane. The northern part of the part is currently unreachable except if you walk there.

Here are pics before the hurricane and after. Sand is now beginning to fill in the space that was breached by the storm.

Here is the road that was destroyed by the storm.

This is the other side where the road continues. 

This is the middle where the road and trees used to be. 

We drove to Panama City one day to break up the beach days and saw Mexico Beach where the eye of the hurricane hit. Obviously, things have improved since this video below was made, but it is obviously in bad shape even eight months later.

In some ways, knowing this place had been through so much made us better, more flexible vacationers. I'm a pretty realistic traveler, but this made me more so.

My parents joined us the first four days, and my MIL got to spend two full weeks watching the dysfunction of our family in all its glory.

My dad and M going into the water. 

My MIL burying G. 

We played ball on the beach with a visiting dog named Hoss.
We took strolls on the beach every night and saw random critters.
We went to Wonderworks, Ripley's, and mini golf in Panama City.
We took an airboat ride in Apalachicola and saw baby gators.
We went horseback riding on the Cape beach.
We watched many episodes of Stranger Things and played Life.
I finished 6 books.
And we were all happy to get back home (except D, although the cats have been snuggling up to him all afternoon so I think he'll be ok).

VBS for people who 1. are kids, 2. aren't churchy, or 3. will probably go to hell

In a strange twist of reality, I coordinated VBS this year.

The church is scraping the bottom of the proverbial barrel by thinking having me do this was a good idea.

They have never come to book club when I host, or they would know that I am not an "entertainer."
I am not a hostess.
I am not well-planned
or well-decorated
or anything of the sort.

The first step in finding a VBS theme was to find one I could tolerate.
Some of these kits cost over $100, and I just can't spend the church's money like that.
So I found a free one about missions, but I didn't like how much it focused on kids and sin.

Kids have a lot of figuring out to do, and I really don't think we need to belabor the fact that they are sinful on top of everything else.
I don't even like the word "sin."

I have always felt that if God is omnipotent, he/she should have created me better in the first place if he/she wanted me to be sinless.
I cannot be held responsible for the acts of my great, great, great, great, great, great....and so on grandparents, Adam and Eve.
Sure, it's a matter of semantics, but I prefer "flawed" to "sinful."
Am I flawed?
Of course.
Am I sinful?
Hell-to-the-no.

So I cut that out of the VBS thing on missions, and then I cut out the part about missions (because I believe in missions that are to serve but I'm not evangelical so I can't promote preachy/preachy when that isn't my thing.)

I more or less created my own VBS about being a neighbor to others.

I lead the children's Worship & Wonder occasionally, and it really is the best place for me because my understanding of God is like a child's understanding.
I need the most basic, simplistic information because once it starts getting more complicated, I can't believe anymore.

I'm on board with 'Love your neighbor as yourself."
I get my panties in a twist with anything more complicated.

One of the best things I learned when I started teaching was to keep the rules to a very, very small number because 1. kids don't like them and 2. if you have too many rules, it's impossible to actually enforce them and 3. kids don't like them.

I'm like that with church.
Two rules: "Love God, and love your neighbor as yourself."
Done.
I'm good.

Any of these "Don't drink alcohol" and "Don't show your body" and "Don't be gay" and "Abortion is always wrong" and "Don't say the word God unless you are talking about God" rules is where I shut down.

Because sometimes saying a good and loud "G*ddammit" feels excellent and sums things up more succinctly than any other word in the world.
And if I'm going to go to hell over saying that word....
Well, ok then.

I digress.

So it occurred to me today, when a friend texted me about how VBS had gone last night, that I didn't pray once with the children.
We didn't have a formal "Dear God, blah, blah, blah."
And it's mostly because I'm not a "Dear God, blah, blah, blah" person.

But we had fellowship and fun, and the kids felt loved and welcomed.
And we talked about caring for our neighbors who experience all the things we experience, like home, and family, and clothing, and food, even though our neighbors' homes and families and clothing and food might look a little different from our homes and families and clothing and food.

Because that is its most simple form: We are all flawed people who want love and acceptance. We all share common experiences and feelings.
And I believe the majority of us want to be good but some of us struggle at it more than others.

One of the church members spoke to me last week about being gay and how his father has never accepted it.
It broke my heart to hear this because you could just feel how much pain it causes this individual.

And I think God is in the space between people's pain and what other people do to ease that pain.
That being a good neighbor part.

Things change, people

I tend to be a pretty carpe diem person.
I don't dwell on the past, nor do I think a whole lot about the future (except daydreaming about places I'd like to travel).
I pretty well live in the moment.

The moment of me hating summer break IS OVER.
I no longer hate it.
Please take note of that if you know me or if you've ever read my FB posts or you've ever read this blog.

Today is Aug 6, and while I am mostly ready to get back into a routine, I'm not wishing the days away and pining to send my kids off next week.
This is because when they go back, I go back with them.
I'm subbing the 2nd day of school.
I'll be doing observations at two high schools to complete my secondary certification.
I'll start up my cottage school teaching in September.

Life will once again be a hectic mess of confusion and carpooling between Aug-May.

It's kinda funny how humans think things don't change.

I mean, I'm guilty of it, too.
I see people in person that I knew in college and think to myself, "Dang, they got wrinkles and grey hair."
As if instead of living they have been hovering in suspended animation for the past 25 years.

It is pointless and probably heartbreaking to try to force yourself or those around you to stay the same.

I know folks who cannot wrap their heads around their kids growing up.
They fight it with every ounce of their being.
They expect their preteens and teens to want to spend time with their parents.
I did not want to spend time with my parents when I was that age, so why would I expect my own children to want to spend time with me?
I'd be concerned if they wanted to, in the same way that I'd be concerned if my teenager still needed diapers (unless she had a developmental disability in which this need was normal).

I wouldn't want to spend my entire parenting existence in the baby stage or the toddler stage or the preschool stage or the elementary stage or the "any particular stage."

I am no longer in the "I hate summer because my kids drive me bonkers" stage.
Let's move on, then.

The summer I just gave up

Ok, I guess I haven't totally given up, but I've mostly given up.

I am not trying to make my kids' brains bigger, better, more culturally awesome this summer.

I'm done trying to build the Six Million Dollar Kids.

I am mostly letting them do what they want. In the same way that when I was young, I watched endless episodes of television shows and did a whole bunch of nothing.

I don't remember what those shows were. I remember I watched way too much Remington Steele during summer breaks in college.

By the time August rolled around, I was kinda ready for some routine and structure because my summer wasn't completely full and structured.

June was busy. A week in Colorado, followed by a week at Girl Scout camp, followed by a week of VBS.

That right there is a huge amount of "educational and personal development" material.

Experiencing another state.
Going horseback riding.
Learning about animals that live in RMNP.
Learning about the Continental Divide.
Fishing at camp.
Looking through huge telescopes at the moon since it was a space theme at camp.
Building and launching rockets.
Learning Bible stories.

July has been a "recover from June" month.

When I think about what I did during summers as a kid, I know my mother didn't take me to museums or theatrical performances or make me do worksheets.
If she did, I don't remember it (so obviously it had a tremendous impact).
If she did, she didn't do it every summer with regular frequency.

I left the house to go to a friend's place and returned 8 hours later.
My mother had no clue what I was doing or with whom.

And somehow, I managed to get a master's degree.

Now in the interest of complete truth, my kids are doing something educational.
N is working on a packet from her high school in which she has to read and write and do some math.
And the boys are having to do a page per day in their cursive writing workbooks and read before bed.
But that is it.

In upper-middle-class white world, I am failing miserably.
In the rest of the world, I'm doing a stellar job.
I'll split the difference and assume I'm doing ok.

During summer, I remember how hard it was to be with my children 24/7

The novelty of free time in June has become the endless cycle of free time in July.

I enjoyed summer break throughout June, but now that we are in July, I am getting tired of my children, especially the middle one.

This is less about him and more about my reaction to him. I allow him to get under my skin in a way that I do not allow other people, and I do not understand why.  I guess part of it is that he is compulsive and obsessive (hence his darn OCD diagnosis), so he just doesn't give me a moment's peace.  And I am susceptible to compulsions and obsessions (hence my darn OCD diagnosis), which makes me less tolerant of hearing the same request over and over and over.

He keeps bugging me to go on a date with D so that I can hire his camp counselor from Girl Scout Camp to come babysit him and M. He's 9 so he doesn't understand that going on a date requires money for the date and for the sitter and requires that I figure out dinner for him and his siblings, so it's not like "date night" keeps me from thinking about food planning. It's not like D can just come home from work and I say, "Let's go out. Goodbye children" and leave.

I suspect that time will come, but it ain't here yet.

He also keeps asking me to plan playdates and sleepovers for him and every person he has ever known in his entire 9-year-old life.

The other day, G insisted we exchange phone numbers with some kid at the pool he had just met. His name is Caleb, and I have his mom's phone number, but that is the extent of our knowledge of this child.
Where he lives?  Don't know.
Last name? Don't know.
How old he is? Don't know.
Spawn of serial killers? Don't know.

G is very much like me in that his mind needs to be actively occupied to keep from getting stuck in the OCD groove. I didn't get better at doing that until I became an adult and had all the crap of adulthood to keep my mind occupied--like bill-paying and cleaning and responsibility.

Anyway, by the time July came, I was starting to remember just how hard it is to be with my children 24/7.
Even though they can occupy themselves much better than when they were little and can mostly get their own snacks, they still require me for a lot of stuff.

It made me think about how unhappy and cranky I was at times when I was a full-time SAHM and how much I relished the times when I could get the heck away from my children.

Of course, there were many things about when they were little that were much easier. They were happy to go outside and play anytime. They weren't interested in technology and devices. They had opinions but I was bigger and stronger and could just plop them in their carseats and take them where I wanted.

I guess it is good for me to remember what was difficult about then to appreciate what is easier now. There is no perfect time.
Sometimes I forget that.

Why I love Girl Scout camp for my boys

If my boys wanted to join Boy Scouts, I wouldn't have a problem with it, but my sons have no interest whatsoever.

But Girl Scout camp is another story.

As a volunteer, my boys can attend camp in a unit of all boys that has men as their adult leaders and a couple of teenage girls as their aides.

Mr. Bob, the head dude of the boy unit, is an all-in guy whose entire family (wife, daughter and son) come to camp.

This year was their second one at Girl Scout camp, and they ADORED it all over again.

The boys with Miss Sarah

The boys with Miss Shelby

Of course, they love swimming and fishing and playing gaga ball, but I also think they enjoy being in an all-girl environment. 

I suspect some of this has to do with having an older, nurturing sister (who in the bottom photo below is putting her brother's hair in a man-bun). 

My boys do wrestle with each other and talk about poop like other boys, but they aren't super macho, athletic dudes. I think sometimes they are overwhelmed by the "boyness" of other boys. 

I don't know if this is due to having an older sister or being the sons of a mom who stresses sensitivity or being the sons of a quiet, sensitive father, but we just don't go all in for what might be considered "caveman-boy behavior." Grunting and beating of the chests and all that junk. 

Being a man can mean lots of things, just like being a woman can mean lots of things, and I think for my sons this is one of the BEST things about them attending Girl Scout camp. 

They get to be in an environment that IS girl-focused. They get to see that girls can do all of the things they do. Girls can make fires and cook outside just like they do,

and fish just like they do,

and hike just like they do,

and use tools just like they do,

and touch (or kiss) snakes just like they do.

I hope it helps them appreciate what girls are. 

They will be better men and husbands and fathers for it. 

My girl is a Girl Scout

Last year, I wrote this about Girl Scout camp.

This year I am writing with as much abandon as I can muster following a week of camp about how proud I am of my girl who served as an aide with a unit of girls for the first time.

The two of us during one of the random occasions when our units met up.

Now anyone who knows me even just a little bit knows that I am NOT a sentimental person. I'm not syrupy-sweet. I'm not the type who lavishes praise on my kids. I'm not the person who thinks everyone thinks my kids are all that and a bag of chips. Probably 80% of the time, I think my kids are turds. 

But for some reason, this summer with N taking on this role feels big. It feels like a significant step for her.

Every year I ask if she wants to continue Girl Scouts, and she says yes.

Last year she wasn't really thrilled to be an AIT at camp (aide-in-training), but she did it and had fun. This year she said she'd try being an aide but wasn't going into it enthusiastically. Today, the final day of camp following "aide night" where only the teens get to sleepover, she said she had a blast, made a ton of friends and plans to do it next year.

"Sweetheart" (her camp name) has gone to day camp for 15 years and is now an adult. 

These girls are her "aide babies," the girls who she was an aide for who 

have now become aides themselves. 

This is pretty freaking fantastic if you ask me. 

I spent time this week at camp thinking about the types of teen girls I see at camp who are aides. Most of them aren't the typical "beauty" queen girls, the girls who want to look like and act like every other girl. The teens I see who stick with it are the quirky ones. The ones who really are nice girls to be around and who don't put on airs.

And that is the whole point of Girl Scouts---to be yourself, whatever yourself happens to be, and build friendships with people who like you for whoever that self is.

On the car ride home, she jabbered nonstop about wanting to hang out with some of the teen girls she got closer to this week and learned more about. She talked about the little girls in her unit who hugged her and wrote her notes. She talked about the aide sleepover and how they had a whole table of food for them to eat. She talked about the skit that all of the aides created for the finale of camp.

Twiggy with one of her unit girls.

I'm proud of N for many reasons, but I probably don't tell her as often as I should.

I made sure to tell her today. 

Critter summer

We are only a few weeks into summer break, but I am dubbing it "Summer of Critters."

First, we discovered a nest of baby robins in our smoke tree.

Then, my MIL's neighbor and my friend let me watch her tend her beehive.

There was the day at the creek, watching butterflies, catching minnows and crayfish, and seeing  a snake (EEK!).

There was the evening I donned the special suit and got to see and hear the hive up close.

There was the zoo with lorikeets and butterflies....

The nature center, where the kids saw a captive turtle....

AND a hike in the woods resulted in this...

The critter-fest continues with a whole slew of rabbits in our backyard.

The cats have even gotten in on the action...

The end of summer.......

I am not dying for school to begin.

I'm ready, but I'm not desperate (although we still have 5 days, so there is still time.)  I have noticed a slight uptick in my beer drinking and cussing.

I have also noticed that every August I have to have a cavity filled, which simply HAS to be correlated with teeth-clenching during the summer months.

I'm ready to have a routine back in the place.  I'm ready for my sons to be able to speak regularly to other little boys who like to talk about penises, butts and video games so that I do not have to listen to talk about penises, butts and video games.  I'm ready for snack time to not be an all-day event.  

But I am not ready for the busyness, the homework, the waiting on the bus, the driving to and from middle school, the projects.

I am not ready to step back on the hamster-wheel of exhaustion.

The summer was surprisingly pleasant.  

My intention to not culture my children this summer worked splendidly.   

We did a week of Girl Scout camp, 2 weeks in Michigan, 3 weeks of nonstop television and video games due to illness and ear infections.  The other weeks were playdates and swimming and other things I don't remember.  My kids spent many, many days in their pajamas all.day.long.  

The boys each read 19 books, and N will have read 3 books over the summer (which isn't great, but she read so I won't complain).  G worked a little bit on his cursive.  

I have been doing some AP test-prep with him, as well.

(I stewed a tiny little bit over whether to do this and decided that since N's teacher had prepped her class, and I don't know what G's teacher will do, and G being G might need a little anxiety-reduction, I would buy a book and let him have a go.  Whether this has any impact at all on his score.....I've no clue, but if it means he will be more relaxed because he knows what to expect....that is good.)

My readiness for school that is not also tinged with wild desperation is strange.

This evening, going up for teacher meet-and-greet, I felt oddly unenthusiastic.  I didn't have my usual jaunty step into school to meet teachers.  Instead, it felt like I was stepping onto the gauntlet.

It has left me all befuddled.  

It's official......I love Girl Scout camp

As a kid, I went to Girl Scout camp once.  I think I spent about 98.3% of my time in the nurse's station.  I had terrible allergies then and, knowing what I know now, I expect I had a considerable amount of anxiety that made me feel sicker than I actually was.   The only good thing to come out of my experience was Camp Chili (one can chili with beans, Fritos corn chips, shredded cheddar cheese=little slice o'heaven).

This summer is N's 5th year doing Girl Scout day camp, and it is also my 5th year of volunteering at camp, although it is my 1st year volunteering at camp all week.  Prior to this summer, I've worked in the kitchen twice, helped with fishing once and hung out for a couple days with a unit of girls.

Both G and M got to go to Girl Scout camp, too, which is a benefit of volunteering.  I get to help with Girl Scouts, and my boys get to experience camping with me nearby in case of emergency (or minor emergency, like "I miss mom.")

I was worried about how they would do, especially G who, as a general rule, avoids the outside and hates any kind of physical activity. He, however, did beautifully.  He caught a fish.  He made friends.  He wants to go back next year.  M had a good time, too, although it wore his little 6-year-old butt out!

N complained on Monday, saying she didn't want to be there and this was her last year of day camp.  By Thursday, though, she said she wants to come back next year when she will be an aide.  She doesn't love the early morning wakeup, but she really enjoys camp.

I am not a camper or a fisher or a creek walker or person who enjoys roughing it (although my personal appearance gives the impression that I do but that is because I am 1. lazy and 2. without shame), but I did love this week of camp.  

I loved it because I learned a lot, as I have every year that I've been.  I loved it because my own kids had fun.  I loved it because I felt a camaraderie with other women who were exposing girls to the outdoors, to being bold in the face of darkness, spiders in latrines and lost underwear.  It forced me to be brave and to try new things because I had 15 little girls watching me and waiting for me to set an example.

It was sometimes hard and sometimes hot and sometimes annoying, but there were also moments of great hilarity, like when our unit leader asked the girls if they knew the song "I've Got Something in My Pocket" (Brownie Smile Song).  One of the girls yelled out, "You mean 'I'm gonna pop some tags.  Only got $20 in my pocket.'"

Or the day after sleepover when one of the aides and I ate our lunches off of plastic bags because we either didn't have (me) or didn't feel like retrieving (her) mess kits.  It isn't funny to write it here, but we thought it was hilarious that we were so tired we were reduced to eating off of bags.

It was a great experience with my kids and one I hope to repeat again next summer!

                         This is my group creek walking today.  I'm in front with the purple shirt.  

And here is N with her friends doing the canoe tip-test

Performing flag ceremony

and having fun doing the Teams Course.

And then the boys....who got to roast marshmallows

and use knives

and catch fish

and make friends