Change is Coming

Last Friday we received a random call from our school district, and based on news earlier in the day that the CDC reduced recommended social distancing from six feet to three feet in schools, I was pretty sure I knew what was coming.  School for Carter will be returning to four days in-school each week starting in mid-April.  

On one hand, this was amazing news.  It's been a very long year, from fully remote from March-June, then the free-for-all with both kids home and unscheduled in July and August, and then finally getting Jacob back to school in September while Carter settled into the two-days-in, three-days-home schedule.  I'd call the hybrid situation tolerable, but even that might be a little generous.  It's been hard at times and downright torture at others.  Craig has handled the bulk of the teaching since his work has been a little less consistent than mine, but we've both had our share of moments when it felt like an impossible task.  Math in particular is a challenge, mostly just because some assignments are extra long, and sometimes just working through the long laundry list of tasks with an unexcited participant seems overwhelming.  It's definitely made Carter's challenges quite apparent, which is both good and bad.  I mean, experiencing them first-hand has been really hard, but clearly it helps us empathize with the teacher and try to get him help.  

Speaking of his challenges, that brings me to the downside of this upcoming shift.  After waiting for weeks I had finally gotten a call a couple weeks ago to set up appointments to get him evaluated through the same place we go for family therapy currently.  I was a bit annoyed as the first three sessions that we scheduled sounded more like therapy sessions than the true evaluation I was hoping for, but they assured me that those would help move us toward a diagnosis.  I don't think there's any doubt that ADHD is at play here, but I'd be interested to know if they see something else like Oppositional Defiant Disorder like Jacob was diagnosed with (I'd say Jacob's is pretty mild--and Carter's seems a bit different, but it wouldn't surprise me), or even if Carter could be on the spectrum.  He definitely has some really intense interests so I guess that wouldn't shock me either aside from the fact that he seemed super-typical until he was at least four, whereas Jacob was almost always a struggle.  Anyway, I was also annoyed because the therapist had very limited availability.  As it was we couldn't get in until late April for an in-person visit.  Based on our pandemic telemedicine calls last year, it was clear video visits were not an option for Carter.  He just does not do well, partly because of his high energy and partly because he completely hates being on video.  I ended up booking appointments for the same time on remote days for three consecutive weeks.  Well, then the announcement came out and I instantly realized that school would be back in session by then and those three days were no longer remote.  I called to see if I could reschedule anything, if nothing else just to move them around to different times so he wasn't missing the same thing every week, which I was only somewhat able to do.  He's still going to miss a lot of school (probably a third of the day each time between transportation and the appointment), which is super frustrating given how much school has already been compromised this year.  I know his teacher will understand, but based on our experience with Jacob I know the district does not love lots of late arrivals or early dismissals, regardless of the reason.

I know this is important, which is why we're moving forward, but it just boggles my mind that there isn't a better setup for this.  These kids with struggles, maybe more than others, need that in-person school experience, yet we can only book appointments that are during school hours.  It's maddening.  As it is we're lucky we can squeeze in our family appointments.  They're at 3pm but usually we're a few minutes late because that's as soon as we can get there after Jacob gets out of school.  And now Carter's school could be an issue again for those, but hopefully we can do Wednesdays when he's still home.  I understand it's not ideal for people to work a full time job using hours outside the usual 9-to-5 realm, but in a case like this, it would be so much easier.  I guess I just have to hope that these first three appointments are really productive, to the point we can have a plan of action and maybe not have to go back for a while, or at least go a bit less until school's out.  I wouldn't mind taking a break, ideally seeing how medication works as school wraps up, and then if more therapy is warranted after that, pick it up in the summer when our schedule is a bit more open.  Then maybe by the end of summer we can see where things stand and figure out how to manage it next year.  Maybe hours will even be better by then or we'll get to a point where telemedicine does work?  We'll see.  We just need help, but I am really hopeful that being back in school four days per week will be a help all on its own--not just from a consistency perspective, but from the simple fact he'll be away from the phone screen for an additional 12 hours per week with other things to help diversify his interests.  We're tying again to limit it right now, which is a challenge, but I do see peeks of him getting more creative.  He comes up with all sorts of technical explanations of simple magnetic tile builds, so I know it's in there somewhere!  If nothing else, I can tell he's getting a bit more thoughtful about how to use his limited screen hours, but he's still resistant to the limits.

I talked through all of the therapy stuff with his teacher on Thursday, and I'll be honest, a little part of me died all over again on the call.  Even with years of practice, it's still so hard to hear how much your kid struggles with really basic stuff.  She's obviously very supportive and appreciates our efforts, but there's no doubt that his in-school time is challenging.  And if there's now going to be double the kids in a classroom, it's only going to get harder to give him individual attention.  Maybe it'll up the positive peer pressure to see a dozen other kids doing things, rather than just a few, as that was my theory of what was getting him through previously, but I'm doubtful.  I have a feeling he's in a weird spot, where he's getting his work done so he's not throwing up massive red flags, but it also takes more-than-average effort to get there, so maybe there should be more invention than there is.  I think we tend to leave that to the teacher to decide since she's the one carrying the bulk of that burden and has seen enough kids to know what's "out of range", so to speak.  But when there are kids--especially this year--with little support and lots of barriers, kids like Carter probably aren't going to be a priority if you have to pick and choose the most desperate situations.  

Everything just feels like such a process right now.  At first it was a wait-and-see to figure out if things would get better as he settled into the year.  When it didn't, we first had to figure out our best course of action, and then there were many weeks of waiting on our side just to get him in.  Now that that's moving forward, his teacher needs to see if there's anything the school can do--officially or unofficially--to help the process even more.  I had asked if it was worth bringing the school psychologist into the mix, as the psychologist and counselor worked together to advise us on Jacob's struggles and figure out tools to help him in class.  If nothing else I figured the psychologist might be able to observe him and provide some "official" observations from a trained eye on what she sees in the classroom.  While we know a lot of the same behaviors are present in both places, I also know from experience that they can differ a bit across settings so perhaps those observations would be helpful to the long-term diagnosis or a plan moving forward.  There are different layers of "help" through the school, but it's just unclear what's doable before the end of the year.  Between IEP evaluation season and the pandemic already complicating things, that staff is busy.  Maybe they can squeak in something unofficial because it could be quicker, or maybe they're so busy that the only way to do anything is to get him formally documented and in the queue.  I fully understand the challenges and don't want to make anyone's life harder, but I posed the question in case anything was doable and might be helpful for everyone involved.  But on a practical level it's just hard to not be able to make things easier for other people who have to deal with your child, and it's hard to not have quick answers for yourself, or to know just how damaging all of this might be in the long run.  And maybe most of all, it just breaks my heart because I never expected to be here.  It was one thing to go through it with one kid, but to have a kid that seemed normal--even delightful--for the first four years of his life end up in this spot, too, it's just really hard to accept.  I get that parenting is rarely easy, but man, this just gets overwhelming at times.  I know we're doing what we can, but right now it still doesn't feel like enough.

In the midst of all of this, it's been a bit of a challenging week mentally.  I'm not sure why, as I don't think the issues above could have derailed it that badly.  We had great weather, work hasn't been particularly stressful, and we even had a couple decent days with Carter's schooling.  I feel like I'm internalizing a lot of the negative social media out there about politics and masking and vaccines, but I can't avoid them that well when I feel like I need that social media connection to the outside world.  I also hesitate to snooze those folks because I want to know what's floating around out there so I can either research it myself or at least be aware of what potential misinformation I might need to counteract with loved ones.  But even that doesn't seem like enough to drag me down like it did.  I even got the good news my family is doing our traditional Good Friday prunes and noodles dinner, and so far it seems like Easter should be relatively normal (even if masked), which should be enough to help me through another round of pandemic fatigue.  But even with that I didn't feel my usual joy and anticipation while putting up Easter stuff last weekend, despite having actual spring weather imminent.  I felt out of sorts in a lot of ways, and not just because an allergy medicine I'm testing makes me a little groggy and a random power outage the other day totally threw my day off.  My first thought was that all my productivity the last few weeks--baby clothes, new TV stand, new appliances--had slowed to a crawl and I didn't have anything to check off the checklist.  That could be part of it, but it's a self-causing problem when you find yourself even lacking the energy and motivation to start the next big thing.

I honestly think part of me is a little afraid of getting back to something closer to normal and realizing it still doesn't feel significantly better.  One of the things that probably oddly helped through this past year is that there was always the hope of change.  Sometimes regular life gets a little monotonous and there's no end in sight.  And while this past year had a lot of a different type of monotony, it was interesting in its own way, in that it was different than the norm and we knew it was not permanent.  Eventually this season of life will be done--the kids will both be back to school full time and the adults will be back in the office, the busyness of extracurricular activities will fully resume, and maybe someday we won't have to wear masks or think twice about gathering with friends and family.  While most days it seems like that time won't get here soon enough, I keep having these thoughts of, "Be careful what you wish for," because if we're honest, we'd probably all admit that "normal" life wasn't always so great and had its own downfalls.  So once we go back to that, we're sort of stuck with it, with all the good and bad.  We know now more than ever that the good is actually great, but the bad can be truly challenging in its own right.  And if it feels like there's no escape from it on the horizon, then what?  I guess we just settle back into mediocrity, but at least it should have a few higher highs than we've had over the past year.  We can have real things to look forward to, and it's possible I've forgotten just how comforting and motivating those things can be.  It's been a long year-plus and I'm starting to realize there are a lot of things we'll need to relearn and readjust to.  Early mornings and finding energy for a fully scheduled day are probably chief among them.  I know Carter needs to readjust to longer outings out of the house, because Mr. Homebody spends 90% of any outing asking when we can go home or literally dragging us through stores to get done quicker.  But I know there will be mental shifts, too, like being in crowded places without anxiety or figuring out how to live a "normal" life again.

I know at this point change should be good, and it mostly is.  But after a year where most change was negative, forgive me for being a bit anxious about what's to come.  In many ways I feel like being home insulated me from a lot of stress, so now I'm out of practice, but at the same time I feel exhausted at the thought of making more decisions because every little thing for the last year involved a decision evaluating health and safety.  I'm grateful we'll be getting back a little bit more normalcy, but can't help but wonder what the trade-off might be.  We've still got a long road ahead, no doubt.

Bye Bye Baby

Well, I have pretty much completed "phase 1" of the baby clothes purge.  Well, without actually handing them off...yet.  But they'll be ready to go over Easter weekend!  It was a project I have been putting off for ages, both because I knew it would be an emotional thing and also because it would be a lot of work with little-to-no tangible return/benefit.  Over the 11 years we've lived in this house, we've gone from less than a handful of bins of outgrown clothes in the crawlspace to no less than 20.  They ranged from newborn to Jacob's most recently outgrown size, and it seemed daunting to even begin the process of starting to clear them out.  However, I was so desperate to convince myself to start that over the last few months I had banned myself from buying more storage bins (including for the clothes the boys are currently outgrowing) because I knew I should be emptying the ones we had.  But even that wasn't enough to bring myself to start pulling them out. 

A couple weekends ago, I found myself in the crawl space putting away some things and realized that the bins of clothes were preventing me from storing something in the way-back of the crawl space.  The bins are usually stacked nicely against one wall, usually about three high, but ended up scattered all over after our dishwasher leak back in October to let that area dry out and provide the plumber access to the pipes.  I left them that way for months, knowing that he'd need to get in there for the installation of the new dishwasher, and just never really got back around to fixing them afterward.  But by that weekend, the dishwasher was in and everything was dry, and in the midst of another quiet weekend at home I found myself without an actual excuse to not pull out bin number #1 and start the process.  So I did.

The first bin was nearly as challenging as I predicted.  Not only did it involve a lot of emotions, but the infamous yellow stains I battled when I pulled the clothes out pre-Carter were back.  I threw them in to soak in Oxiclean, and it actually took two batches to fit all of the ones that needing soaking, which was probably around half of everything.  Some ended up not coming out very well, but most were fine after their soak.  I set the duds aside and washed the rest, figuring I'd give them another soak when I pulled out the next group.  

The thing is, after doing this same sort of process years ago with Jacob's clothes after Carter was born, I should have known this would get a little chaotic.  See, my system for outgrown clothes was always to leave a bin in the closet to pack away things as they got outgrown.  In theory that should almost be better since you'd think any similarly sized stuff will get outgrown at the same time, regardless of what's on the label, but sometimes I was packing things away one at a time mid-season, or I'd realize at the beginning or end of a season that a whole size was done (or would be before that weather came back).  Additionally, summer things stuck around longer because it was less obvious that sleeves or shorts were too short, so sizes ended up getting packed away at all different times.  When Carter was a few months old, I pulled out clothes to try to organize the next size up, only to realize they were in multiple bins.  As a result, I ended up with this unexpected mess randomly one weekend...  

When I got through the first batch of clothes this time, I once again realized there were probably still a lot of things in the next bin up that were in those same tiny sizes.  Believe it or not, I later found 3-6 month shorts in 18 month bins, just because that's when they were finally too short!  So out came another bin, and then another.  After another couple rounds of soaking, including the ones that didn't come clean the first time, and three more loads of laundry, I had a TON of clothes to sort through, basically filling our downstairs couch.  

Amazingly, I only had to toss a handful of things along the way.  A couple simply had too much wear, a couple ended up with some dye transfer (presumably because I used very hot water to soak them since Oxiclean works best with hot water), there were some with spent elastic, and in the end there were a couple (mostly white onesies) where the stains didn't come out.  I actually saved most of the second-round soak ones, believe it or not!  Fortunately, by the time I got to some of the earliest 12 month stuff, I got out of the yellow stain phase, which seemed to be mostly within spit-up age.  That made the process much easier!

Initially I had wanted to try to take some to consignment, but the more I checked around, the more it seemed like there was little to no chance of getting any decent money for them.  Not only are these older, but in many cases they've been worn by at least two children.  While a lot are still in inexplicably good shape, I figured it was not worth the effort to haul them all there just to get a few bucks and have 99% of them rejected.  Fortunately, my cousin is due with a boy this summer, so I checked to see if she was interested in looking through them.  She was, so I happily started setting aside everything up through six months for her.  In the midst of that, my friend Heather let me know that she was shaping up to be short on pants for my godson Mason around the nine month stage.  Once I knew that, my goal was to get up through the 12 month clothes, so the first six months could go to my cousin and the second six months Heather could look through.  I should be able to free up three bins just from that, which is a good start.  I figure any rejects can just be added to the pile o' stuff I'm setting aside for my mom's garage sale in the spring, and the leftovers from that can get donated.  At this point I'm just going to be happy to give them another life and hopefully help out a few people in the process, while also cleaning out my house and finally reclaiming my bins!  From the 12 month point on, I will probably just pull bins out as Mason grows, which should be a good, manageable pace.

As I was setting aside the stuff for Mason, I realized that there had to be more nine month clothes packed away later with the 12 and 18 month clothes.  So, last night I pulled out what I thought were the next three bins, and started organizing them by size and season.  I did uncover more nine and 12 month stuff, but then I realized there was still stuff missing, like a couple pairs of shorts that went with two cute 12 month golf shirts.  Of course, I didn't realize it until I had already packed away the two 18 month bins plus another with 2Ts.  So I went back in and discovered that there were even more bins with 18 month stuff scattered about out of order, so out came those, and sure enough I finally found the stuff I was missing.  All in all I ended up going through seven bins in one night!  For now I just reorganized them into sizes and labeled each bin, which left me with three 18 month bins, three 24 month/2T bins, and one with the earliest batch of 3Ts.  When we get to each of those stages, I'll be set to pull them out, wash them, and pass them along.  On the bright side, the extra bins I had to go through gave me just enough extra room to also sort and store a couple dozen pairs of shoes, which I had previously only piled up in another bin.  I eventually assigned them to the proper bins after looking at photos of the kids and noting which shoes/sizes they were wearing at that age!  It was quite a process, and I felt like I ran a 5K by the time I was done, between bending awkwardly all night to sort and carrying bins back and forth! 

The good news about last night's late arriving batch was that we got a new washer and dryer on Wednesday, so I was able to get that batch done by midday today despite having to break it up into two loads!  Our old washer and dryer were still working (almost 16 years!), but the washer had been acting funny (and at one point smelling burny) lately, and the dryer hadn't actually dried right in a few years (took twice as long), so we figured we'd get those replaced while the models we wanted were on sale.  No sense risking it if the smell was an electrical issue, and better to get them before one dies and we can't do laundry for weeks!  Anyway, it's amazing how quickly clothes can dry when things are working right!  I still need to get that last batch organized, but I already bagged up two giant bags for my cousin, and I'll be finishing up Heather's this weekend so both will be ready to go when we go to Buffalo for Easter.  

To be honest, while I did have a little nostalgia and sadness while going through the newborn stuff in particular, it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.  I mean, the tiny newborn stuff that Carter wore every week for at least the first month or two of his life did make me a little emotional, but I didn't cry!  In the end I did keep a few things.  Part of it was nostalgia, and part of it was planning ahead in case I do this cool thing I saw on Pinterest for high school graduation that uses a clothesline full of clothes from different stages.  I can see using a baby/toddler thing or two, then moving on to first jerseys, then some bigger kid stuff and finally finishing with the graduation gown.  I had stashed our last unused newborn diaper (sooo tiny!) so I kept that, as well as the newborn outfit Carter came home in (it was so hot that poor Jacob just had a onesie--and I never took a picture!), my favorite moose outfit that Jacob wore a ton, a couple handmade knit items, their special hospital hats, and maybe one or two other random things.  But not bad all things considered!  For the rest I opted to just take some pictures to remember the ones I loved from those early days but forgot about.  

The tiny Varsity jacket-style hoodie was so cute, and the fleece vest was so tiny and sweet!

The sleepers with stuff on the butt were the best!

So many memories of those sweet early days of snuggling on the couch!  Love those little sneaker feet!

I'll probably do a couple more with the bigger clothes but I think I have pictures of most of those between both kids, since they tended to wear favorites on days we had camera-worthy stuff going on.  It's been quite a rush of memories, though, and it most cases it blows my mind it's been as long as it has been since either kid has worn those things.  Time sure does fly.  

It feels good to have a solid start on this project, even if it is a long-term one from this point forward.  Yes, it might be easier to just donate everything in one shot, but it honestly makes my heart happier to know that they will go to good use by people we care about, and any leftovers can still help others in need later on.  As much as I often think I should have done it sooner, I think everything worked out just as it should have.  Had I done it a year earlier, I would have had to just donate it somewhere random.  It makes me feel good to have hit just the right timing to do this without feeling too sad, at a time where loved ones can benefit and I can use the mental boost from pushing through a project I had been avoiding.  I knew I'd regret it if the pandemic-forced home time ended and I didn't get it done (because admittedly it's a lot easier to keep it moving while I'm home all day), so it's nice to know that I accomplished something so big.  It's bittersweet for sure, but it was time.  Now on to the next thing...whatever that is!   

Year 2, Day 1

Yesterday marked day 365 since life got turned upside-down.  It was the Sunday when my work officially went remote, the day after the kids' schools shut down for at least a couple weeks.  At the time, those two weeks seemed daunting.  How would we manage school and work, let alone figuring out how to mostly stay home without our usual extracurriculars or visits with family?  Two weeks stretched to a month, which stretched to the rest of the school year, which went through the summer.  We got a little normalcy back in the fall when Jacob went back to school and Carter got back two days per week, but our working from home stretched far beyond that, into the new year, then to a full year, and now officially beyond.  A year ago today was the day I went into my office, picked up pieces of my computer, and started working out my new work station at home.  Here I sit a year later.  If I'd known it would be this long, I certainly would have upgraded my chair and maybe my desk.  My guess is I still have at least six more months of this, but if I've made it this long, is it worth upgrading now?  Probably not, considering the many other expenditures we have happening around here.

But hitting the year point definitely gives you perspective.  For example, it's been a year of socially distanced grocery shopping with product shortages.  At least the paper product aisle and the disinfecting wipes are finally consistently back in stock, but inevitably some shelf is still empty--today it was the store-brand snack baggies, last week it was the Worcestershire sauce.  It's been a year since Carter has been in normal school.  When all is said and done in June, if nothing changes before then, he will have essentially missed out on a full year of in-person instruction during his three years at the school.  It's a bit of a bummer because Jacob really got a great foundation there and I feel like Carter has had a very different experience.  Ironically, my niece in Oregon just went back to her first (shortened) day after a year remote.  Today I was trying to remember what mileage my car hit right before the shutdown.  I think it was 78,000, and that means I only drove about 5,000 miles in the last year, which is less than half of what I usually do.  Most of that was driving Jacob to school in the morning since September, and prior to that it took months just to get the next thousand.  

Today I went to the allergist and had the same view from the exam room that I did in early April last year, when every parking lot (including the entire mall) was nearly empty mid-afternoon.  This weekend I should be able to hang Easter eggs on the tree and bushes outside, which I vividly remember doing last year in late March, at a bit of a loss as to how we were even going to celebrate Easter.  Even just seeing Easter candy in the stores brings back memories of my slight panic to make sure I got enough stuff for the kids' baskets in the very few trips out I did.  All of these little memories about the weird and wacky things we lived through are coming back.  

It's funny because life is inevitably full of phases and stages, and the very monotonous existence we've had in this last year make some of them even more noticeable as they come and go,  We've gone through a couple hardcore Simpsons-watching phases (when we've had Disney+), the first of which drove me nuts and the second of which I am now just sort of accepting as permanent background noise.  Craig also watches The Office and Friends nearly non-stop during the day, so those might always be a part of this time, too.  For a while we did Jacob's Xbox NBA2K trivia every night, to the point we did it over the phone with a friend of his, but that faded away after a while.  Playing dominoes was in a movie we watched the other night, and it brought back memories of our board game phase, which included buying a set of dominoes and learning the game Chicken Foot.  But sore loser behavior ended that phase pretty quickly, so more recently we seemed to go into a puzzle phase.  Our next one just got purchased today.  My summer was full of my flowers, which I am poised to do again, and hopefully I will get back to my porch sitting phase when the warm weather comes back.  I got out of my baking phase a while ago, but I feel like maybe I should try again sometime soon.  I had my diamond painting phase, which I also want to get back into (with one I ordered in April that took until about July to arrive), but I keep telling myself I need to get my other one framed first.  I also have more redecorating to do, just to spruce things up around here--in between new appliance purchases apparently.  The new washer and dryer arrive tomorrow!  In the meantime we seem to have entered the purge phase, where I am making it my mission to get some baby clothes out of here, to make progress on ditching or converting VHS tapes, and to organize my thoughts (and stuff) for my mom's garage sale.  Sometimes it keeps me up at night thinking about the things I need to do.  I posted something years ago, shortly after we moved in here, that if I ever said this house was too small, it was time to get rid of stuff.  Admittedly, the kitchen and bathroom feel cramped with two bigger kids now, but the idea still holds true and I am working to get rid of enough stuff to make the house feel more comfortable again.  We rid ourselves of our old giant tube TV, our old dehumidifier, our old VCR (whose remote stopped working, making it useless), and our old microwave (which broke shortly into the shutdown last year) over the weekend, and I made great progress on baby clothes and VHS tapes over the past few days as well.  One thing at a time, I guess.

I'm hoping that we're not facing down another full year of altered life, that maybe this time we'll be able to count Year Two in months, more like we thought we'd be doing last year.  We have vaccinated parents now, so there's a bit less fear about gathering.  Even something like that could make a huge difference.  Jacob's travel basketball season should be starting soon, which will give us some reason to move around a bit more.  We'll have to be careful, of course, especially since Jacob is hitting the three-month mark post-COVID, which could mean his antibodies will start fading soon.  But rates are getting lower and we likely won't be going far, so hopefully we can start tiptoeing back out into the world of travel, too.  

There's so much to look back on over this past year, and I know that among all of the hard stuff there were good things.  In daily life we all sort of hope for a break from the monotony, and while more (different) monotony wasn't really what we all wanted, getting us out of old habits provided a different opportunity to start fresh.  I've had a couple friends post about changes they've made, and while I can't say we had any major life revelations here, things like porch sitting, daily pool time, Saturday dinner takeout, and my new urgency to clean out the house probably wouldn't have happened without this.  In the midst of the stress of the sibling battles, we've had a front row seat to our kids growing and changing in ways we never would have otherwise.  Speaking of which, who's that deep-voiced, giant-footed, taller-than-me kid on the couch these days?  At the very least, we have a deeply rooted understanding of second grade curriculum, and hopefully we'll have a good opportunity to see if Carter can handle it better once we get him some help in the way of medication in the coming month or two.  Certainly there are are a lot of struggles and a lot of things that have changed for the worse (less adult quality time, including the inability to catch up on our DVR, more time to battle with the kids, no changes in scenery), but it's good to know there have been good things, too.  We've gotten to sleep in for over a year, after all!  As a result, I know we'll probably look back on this wistfully once we're rushing around like crazy again--Carter already knows he had a lot less school, which he appreciates--but I hope my posts are a good reminder of how this was hard, too.  We overcame a lot and should be proud of that.  It's been one heck of a ride, and while we're all hopeful this part of it will be over soon, I'm determined to find the positives in the meantime.  Here's to Year Two...

The Last Week

There has been a meme circulating on social media since this past weekend that says something to the effect of, "A year ago, this was our last normal week and no one knew it."  I felt that deeply when I saw it, as this period a year ago has been on my mind a lot lately.  We passed by the memories of our last busy weekend, with Jacob's last basketball tournament (when he and a bunch of random kids filled in for another team) and the trip to the trampoline park that followed it--which even then grossed me out a bit knowing we were on the verge of a pandemic.  Craig's last roadtrip was that weekend, too, so he officially has been home for a year.  

Things escalated crazily in the days that followed that last busy weekend.  I read my blog the other night from those early weeks and subconsciously thanked myself for some of the detail I recorded, specifically the account of how many dominoes fell over the course of a few days, both early in the week and over the following weekend.  It all happened so quickly, going from "Something's coming but we should be good for a bit," to "Okay, I guess we'll stay home now," in the space of a week.  We went from banning work travel to shutting down campus early in the week, to the very quick progression over the following weekend to school and work shutting down.  I will never forget my Thursday trip to Wegmans, a year ago tonight, as it was clear things were ramping up and the first case or two showed up in our area.  That was the moment I realized we might be in for something unprecedented.  

Lines snaked through the store and almost every shelf of staples was empty.  It felt apocalyptic, foreign, and straight out of the third world.  I think that was the first real bit of the low-key panic and stress that has been a constant for a year.  It was this unknown fear of something--not just the virus but a very real threat to our way of life.  It's the stress of not knowing what the next day might hold, whether we could get sick, or when normal life might get back to normal.  Most days it's not overwhelming, but the heightened stress levels over such a long period is not healthy.  But that Thursday shopping trip was like the peak at the top of the roller coaster from hell--the whole week had been building up to that point, and at the top you could see it was going to be a rough ride to get back to the station and there was no turning back.  You just had to let it run its course.  We just didn't know it would take over a year.  

That Friday we had a really good therapy appointment when Jacob was off school (complete with a last lunch out) and a dinner get-together with friends from church.  We left the dinner fully expecting to see everyone on Sunday.  But before Sunday, church got canceled, and despite a declaration from the district on Friday that schools would stay open, by Sunday those were closed as well.  We visited Craig's family for his mom's birthday on Sunday, and we had no idea it would be three months before we did anything like that again.  Life just came to such a sudden standstill.  We all left school and work on a Friday and never went back.

One of the things that stuck out to me most from my posts was the speculation on duration.  Initially I was talking about a couple weeks, or maybe a month.  I still thought we had a chance to get in Jacob's travel season (ha) and I was hopeful about Easter.  Summer was my worst-case scenario, and obviously we blew past that, even though we were able to sneak in bits of normalcy here and there.  Honestly, it's a really good thing none of us knew we'd still be struggling through this a year later.  I mean, if we were honest with ourselves we should have known better, but we all lived pretty normally through Swine Flu, and SARS never really made it here, so I suppose we were optimistic.  When China seemed to get COVID under control within a few months, it seemed doable to do it here, too.  But of course, they had full, hardcore lockdowns, and we could never get away with those here.  Interestingly, most other places with strict lockdowns are still having issues so I find it curious that China barely seemed to look back.  It makes me think we were working with false information from the get-go, which couldn't have helped our decision-making.  Regardless, if we'd have known from the beginning that this would be a year-plus of upheaval, I think the suicide rate would have been through the roof.  Slowly adding time on was a bit of a tease, but it also gave us more digestible periods to survive.  It seemed almost unfathomable early on that this could become a long-term "new normal", but here we are.  

We were forced to adjust very quickly to so many new things, and I think for the most part what we did was amazing.  Even if it felt like a mess, it was a huge enough shift that I wouldn't have expected anything less.  We just had to power through and find a way to survive.  A former blogger that I now follow on social media said the other day that "you can't really process a thing you are still in."  I've been thinking something similar (but likely less eloquent) for weeks as I come back across the memories and the pictures.  As huge and hard as that shift felt, I'm not sure I've fully processed how mentally traumatizing a lot of it was.  I mean, yes, we struggled, but when you consider the degree to which we were isolated, the percentage of life that was affected, the life-enhancing things we couldn't do (Easter with family, real Mother's Day visits with our moms, any sort of travel), the fear that accompanied "normal" stuff (going to the store, sneaking in a hug during a socially distanced visit), and the very basic loss of our village and support system (even our meager one), it's amazing we didn't completely shut down.  Instead, we just put our heads down and got through it.  But a year later when I realize all of the ways life has changed, maybe for the long run, it becomes clearer how all of those things had to have a profound effect.  We probably just don't know it yet because we haven't been able to fully process something that never really ended.  It changed, we adapted, things got easier or harder, and in many ways most of the last nine months have been some sort of middle-ground monotony.  We can do little things but not big things, which means most of our days look the same and lack those big-ticket, exciting moments we used to live for.  Instead of getting excited for a vacation, we get psyched up for a doctor's appointment, library trip, or stop into the office.  I've gotten an awful lot of Taco Bell Happy Hour Freezes over the past months because it's a little moment of "fun".  My, how times have changed.  

As we hit the year anniversary, we're once again approaching spring, with the same ups and downs we lived by last year since "outside" was the only place we could easily go.  The weather this week has seemingly been oddly similar.  I went for my first run last year on March 9th, which had to be a decent day because I wasn't yet in pandemic-driven desperation to get out of the house.  This year March 10th was a gorgeous 68 degree day also worthy of my first run.  I remember milder weather on that last Friday, and I recall those early weeks at home had surprisingly good weather before it tanked in April and snowed into May.

That good weather last year and the warm weather the past couple days did a lot to lift spirits.  I even found two tiny but misguided vinca flowers peeking out of our back flower bed!

There's still so many things that preoccupy me--people that won't wear masks (just in case, people, seriously), all of the political divisiveness (still--and even more so in NY where our governor is in hot water for COVID coverups and sexual harassment), and why members of this house are struggling more than normal with getting up and dealing with work and school--but at long last we have a lot of reasons to be hopeful, too.  Vaccines are ramping up, and between the vaccinated and the already infected, it's getting harder for the virus to spread.  Things are opening up (slowly, thankfully), and numbers don't seem to be spiking despite newer variants being more contagious.  The school district next to ours is going to be in-person for four days starting in a month, which hopefully bodes well for ours.  Travel restrictions are lessening, which will hopefully lower our stress when it's time for Jacob's next basketball season to start.  All of our parents are vaccinated, and based on the President's plan, we'll be eligible within a couple months.  We might be able to have a reasonable summer after all, and maybe even think about taking a real vacation.  There are things to look forward to, real things, for the first time in a long time.  I don't want to get my hopes up too much, but even just getting back to outdoor summer gatherings again is a nice thought.  

In the meantime, as I wish these (hopefully) last hard weeks away, we're trying to get some things done and right some of the wrongs from the past year.  We've been back to church for a few weeks now, and Carter finally got to play in the church's new indoor play area, which was so exciting to hear about a year ago.  After an extra-long wait, he had a blast.

You can see him up in the punching bags on the left.

It's huge!  Multiple slides, tons of crawls...the kids all loved it!

On Monday we finally had the Salvation Army come through and take our old entertainment center.  That meant that on Monday night, I spent three hours putting together the new one, which had been taking up floor space between our entry and kitchen for weeks.  It's really pretty and we all like having the TV lower, even if it does make that wall look a little extra bare now.

All of our "grown-up" DVDs fit in the middle section.  The kids' ones have a separate shelf.  We could slide the doors to the outside, too, but this is better for individual decor items.

The next step to this project is reviewing the many, many VHS tapes we have sitting around the house (some of which lived in the old entertainment center) before our last VCR bites the dust so we can decide what we'd like to convert and what we don't care about.  My old TV shows are among them, and there are lots of memories for both of us saved on those tapes.  I'm also hoping to rework some of our wall art and just freshen a little of everything up after a year of staring at the same walls for too many hours a day.

My other big project is that I finally pulled out the first round of baby clothes last weekend.  I had been putting it off for over a year (and realistically at least six years prior to that, once it was clear we were done).  But I had to go into the crawl space for something last weekend and realized I just had to do it.  I started with the first bin, which was full of emotions.  All of Carter's tiny newborn clothes, the onesies Jacob lived in when our house was perpetually 90 degrees, and so many tiny little memories.  I set aside the boys' Christening outfit, Carter's coming home outfit (I wanted to keep a newborn one--sooo tiny!), the Hawaiian shirt both boys wore in memorable matching pictures, their special hospital hats, and one tiny newborn diaper.  I might still grab one more thing of Jacob's in case I do this cool Pinterest graduation thing I saw (six(!) years from now, but I thought all of that was fair.  It made me a little sad but I feel ready.  I soaked everything that had stains and washed it all.  I lost a few things to stains, rips, and an unfortunate dye transfer (maybe the soaking bath was too hot?), but most fared well.  It's now waiting to get paired back up and set aside so my cousin (who's having a boy) can look through them.  I decided against trying for consignment so anything she doesn't take I will either donate or try to sell at my mom's garage sale.  My goal is to get through about 12 months or so, at which point my friend Heather and my godson Mason might start needing some things (they got showered with a ton of hand-me-downs, but she's not sure yet how the seasons will line up).  From there I'll just try to be consistent about getting through a bin or two when they have somewhere to go.  That will free up a few bins in the meantime so I don't have to buy the ones I've been needing (mostly as the boys keep outgrowing the stuff they're in now).  Oh, and because the washer started acting funny last weekend and the dryer hasn't dried right in years, we bought a new set this week while similar models were on sale.  Sixteen years is a lot to ask of those appliances, so it was time.  One less thing to do down the road.

Overall I think we're just realizing that this homebound time might be coming to an end and we might kick ourselves if we don't get through some of these projects while we have some time, particularly while the weather still stinks.  Admittedly we don't always have the energy or brain space to do it, but limited time can be motivating.  Now to just make those calls about the kitchen!

It's been a weird time this week thinking back on our last "normal" week, but we can only hope the worst is past and we can move into year two with much more optimism and some real hope for the end of this insane, unexpectedly difficult year.

Unspirited

Jacob is supposed to be confirmed through our church this spring.  It's been a two year process, starting with attending 90 minute sessions on Wednesday nights last year and progressing to considerably more this year.  The only problem?  We didn't really get to a lot of the prep until now.  I blame COVID, mostly, and the fact that adding even one more battle with him over the past six months seemed like an impossibility.  But now we're down to the wire and trying to catch up on things, and it's getting a little challenging.

Before I get into what we're dealing with, allow me to explain what my confirmation experience was like.  Mine, like Jacob's, was a two-year process.  Mine was 7th and 8th grade, and his is 6th and 7th--although the church is supposed to be changing to a three-year process that mirrors the 6-7-8 youth group, starting after this class, which probably makes sense since that's the group that meets every Wednesday anyway.  Because I went to my church's school, I was able to do confirmation classes as part of my daily religion class.  I had a lot of friends that went to public school and had to do a two-hour class every Saturday morning for two school years instead.  That did not interest me at all, so when given the choice to go to public school in the middle of a bullying issue, I chose to stick it out and save my Saturday mornings for Saved by the Bell and lounging in my PJs.  Our program was pretty rigorous--we learned our way through the Lutheran Small Catechism and had to do a ton of memorization.  The good news is that the curriculum was basically the same both years.  You'd think it would have been boring but I think between the sheer amount of stuff we had to know and knowingly watching the 7th graders struggle through their first time, the repeats never really bothered us.  Rather, it was a chance for it to feel easy!  My catechism is full of notes and highlights (and goofy tween doodles) and it was so intense that I still remember a shocking amount of stuff almost 30 years later.  Both years we had to take the "500 Test" around Christmas--a full-morning, literal 500 question test about all we'd learned.  A lot of the questions were more rapid fire ones--like 100 different sins that we had to assign a commandment to or filling in the missing words on a bunch of Bible verses--so it wasn't really as bad as it sounds.  But it was an incredible amount of information.  Fortunately, it took a lot of wrong answers to knock off points.  I think I got a 96 and a 99.  The 99 was still something like seven incorrect answers.  Where it got really stressful, though, was Question Sunday.  On the Sunday before Palm Sunday, all of the second-year confirmands sat on the altar and were questioned by the pastor--in front of the congregation.  We didn't know what we'd be asked (outside of knowing it could be anything we'd studied and knowing what was asked in previous years), so we had to be ready.  Sometimes it was recitation of a commandment and its explanation, or questions about the parts of a prayer, or areas of the church, or what Bible verse corresponded with an issue.  If you didn't know the answer, the pastor was pretty good about it and tried to give you something else you might know.  He knew it was possible to blank.  I'll admit that it was impressive to see how many kids did know their stuff each year.  The big deal was who was going to get the "Sweet 16", a collection of 16 Bible verses we needed to memorize that were supposed to help us defend our faith.  I figure I was probably somewhere in the top three to get it, but it went to another kid.  I was ready, though!  Admittedly, it was extremely stressful--and most people I tell think it was over the top and borderline torture.  But to be honest, while it was hard, it was such a rite of passage.  It was something you psyched yourself up for, and when it was over, you felt ready to be confirmed.  We were then confirmed the following Sunday and took communion for the first time on Maundy Thursday during Holy Week prior to Easter.  We also helped run the children's service on Good Friday.  It made us official members of the church and able to join the youth group (they did all-night lock-ins!), which was all stuff we'd waited for for years.  I just remember feeling really accomplished when it was done.

Oh, the 90s...tall bangs (with a fancy French braid), giant shoulder pads under that robe, and boring white flats...all complete with a giant zit on my nose.

The shoulder pads are ridiculous, but I'm not sure if second place should go to the lace doily in the faux pocket or the awkward drop waist seam.  I also didn't really wear makeup and look ridiculously young.

At our church now, the process starts in sixth grade.  After a year of once-a-week group learning sessions, the second year is more in-depth.  In addition to the weekly sessions, there are six longer monthly learning sessions to be attended by parents and kids, plus community service, Bible verse memorization, a couple crafty projects to explain your faith that would go on public display, and finally a meeting with the youth pastor.  It still all seemed a lot lower-key than what I went through.  Initially there was a lot more focus on general learning about faith and Christianity than specific Lutheran-based learning like I had, which focused on the commandments, the Lord's Prayer, and other elements of formal church life.  We have gotten into more of that in the six longer learning sessions this year, but it's definitely been a different experience.  Pretty sure Jacob would have tuned out long ago if he had to do what I did. 

If I'm being honest, Jacob has never really been into it.  I think it's more his personality than a testament to his faith (or lack thereof), but as a parent it's been hard to work through that.  I think there are just some missing connections right now.  For starters, he doesn't really seem to mesh with the kids at church.  I'm not sure why, although I know some of them express pretty conservative views on a lot of things and he's definitely got his own views there.  I just think he's used to a more multicultural, mainstream group of friends and he hasn't really found his crew there.  By this time last year, he was actually getting to be a little more comfortable with going to the Wednesday night sessions.  Most of the time he could get in a game of basketball with the other kids afterward, which made him happy.  But then COVID hit.  They only had another month or so left, I think, so they stopped meeting and called it a year since Zoom was still evolving as an option at the time.  This fall, they started meeting again in person, but socialization was minimal so no basketball meant that he'd lost his biggest motivator.  They went remote in December when cases were rising and church shut down in-person services, which lasted until a few weeks ago.  I think that physical separation in particular didn't do us any favors, as the basketball games and in-person interaction were really what helped him to feel more comfortable and get to know people.  Without that, I think a lot of that connection just slipped away, which hasn't made this any easier.  It also doesn't help that he has religion classes at school so there are things he already knows (so it's "boring" learning them again) and things he gets frustrated contrasting.

Because everything got interrupted by COVID and the stresses of daily life were really getting to us, I think we just sort of kept putting off the other stuff because we didn't need that extra stress or one more thing to argue with Jacob about.  But then suddenly it was February and we were running out of time.  On the bright side, I talked to another set of parents who are dealing with many of the same issues, so at least we're not alone.  And judging by some iffy response to some of the sign-ups, there may be more than we think.  We made an effort over the past few weeks to catch up on the monthly learning sessions, which have all been done via videos of last year's sessions, rather than in-person.  I think it would have been easier to keep Jacob engaged in-person, as they're long and you can tell that there were interactive parts that probably would have been a bit more enjoyable than straight-up video.  There are worksheets to fill out, and Jacob gets frustrated if he misses an answer and has to rewind, or the video goes too long without addressing the questions on the sheet.  We're done with 4 of 6 now, which is still behind but better than where we were.  The problem is the last few are long and need to get split up, which makes them take twice the effort.

He needs to get started on the memory verses, which we've heard through the grapevine don't have to be fully memorized, but more internalized so they have it in their minds when they need them for spiritual support.  I think I'm going to have him look them up and write them out, then just keep reading them over as much as he can.  I can't imagine an ADHD kid is going to have an easy time with full-on memorization, so we'll do what we can.

The bigger issue right now is community service.  He's supposed to do 20 hours.  We figured that he'd get through some of that through what they do at school, but that community service didn't happen this year.  Usually there are multiple opportunities at church, too, but with all the closures there wasn't much--just one three-hour session packing up fun deliveries for the Sunday School kids.  We're trying to get in hours at the church food pantry stocking shelves, which he did for the first time yesterday on his day off, but the hours don't mesh well with our schedule until at least next month, so that's going to be a challenge as well.  I think we can get a reasonable amount in before Confirmation itself, but likely will only be a fraction of the way there by his in-person meeting in mid-April.  Even asking around on Facebook hasn't yielded a lot of help.  Suggestions were well-meaning but even I don't really know how to go about organizing a canned food drive in the neighborhood, let alone having my unmotivated 12-year-old do it.  We just don't seem to have the right community connections, and even so, COVID has changed so many things that were probably staples previously.  It's also a little complicated when your kid isn't the most personable, especially in new situations.  Like, do I really trust him to help seniors make vaccine appointments or try to find neighbors to help with yard work when he won't even do work in our own yard?  One suggestion is worth looking into--sending cards to those in nursing homes.  I think we could find a way to pull something like that off, but it's going to take some calling around.  Fortunately, I emailed the youth pastor's wife who handles most of the admin, and she confirmed that this year they're really just looking for the effort and wouldn't prevent anyone from getting confirmed if they were a few hours short.  So I guess we just get as close as we can at this point.

Coming up next weekend is a crafting session to make his Confirmation stole.  When I was confirmed I had a giant red ribbon stole printed with gold crosses and the date.  I was "yoked with Christ" when it was placed around my neck.  Jacob needs to make his own out of felt with three symbols on each end--three about his spiritual journey, three about himself (hmmm...basketball, music, and maybe his phone?).  After that, at home we have to do a tri-fold board (like a science fair project) for a "Faith Fair" that details elements of his faith journey.  The challenge with these is that I don't think he's really thought about his faith journey all that deeply.  He's not really expressive with things that are personal to him (he was never the "I love you" type of kid), so getting him to come up with things that he can speak to from the heart will be tough.  The moments where I try to get him to answer the questions he'll need to address on the board are what make me question if he should even do this.  He can't seem to answer any of them.  Not all are his fault, mind you--there were likely many opportunities for growth that COVID took away that those questions try to get at--but when you spend more of the learning sessions complaining than looking for moments to grow your faith, it's going to be a struggle.

The thing is, it's not that I think he doesn't have faith, but I think he's needing to fit his faith into a certain box for this and he's more of an outside-the-box kind of kid.  He's a sarcastic, independent-minded, not-touchy-feely kid.  So this is going to be a challenge for him.  It's been a challenge all along, in fact.  The stuff they're doing feels like an extension of school for him, and when school isn't fun for him, neither is this.  At this point you may be wondering if it's even a good idea for him to go through with it if he's not fully on board.  I've asked myself that question a hundred times, actually.  What good is a confirmation of your faith if you're not really that into it?  But like I said, I think the faith is there.  He's not super open about it, but he insists he has it.  This just isn't the way he'd choose to share it or talk about it.   

On one hand, I don't want him doing this begrudgingly or by force, but on the other, as parents our job is to point our kids down the path we think they should follow, sometimes to the point of pushing them into things that they wouldn't willingly do themselves.  It's the reason you force them on the bus or into the classroom on that first day despite the tears, or why my father pushed me harder the day I freaked out while learning how to drive.  You know that in the long run, they'll hopefully be grateful for the push because it was something that needed to happen.  The problem is that if we don't do it now, it would either mean another year of work and assignments, or never doing it at all--at least not with people his own age in this same way.  My old church did adult confirmands, but I don't know if our church does.  They have a different class for church membership, but as far as I know it just ends with a quick welcome ceremony during a Sunday service.  So we'd basically be giving him a free pass to never get confirmed or join the church, as I don't think he'd do it on his own later since this sort of ceremony stuff isn't something he'd likely subject himself to on his own.  I'll admit there's also a family expectation that this should happen.  Craig's family is Catholic and our niece and nephews all did their First Communion and participated in the church in the years that followed.  I know there's some disappointment on my side that my brother's kids were never baptized into the church, and I feel like this would be viewed similarly.  Regardless, we feel it's important, even if he doesn't see the importance right now.  I just wish it had the same sort of grown-up, rite-of-passage feel for him that mine did, as that itself was motivating.  

I guess for the next few weeks it's going to be my job to sort of "coach" him--which in this case will mean asking the right questions to get him in the mindframe to have the answers he needs.  Like I said, since the faith is there, likely there are things he can talk about, but maybe he just doesn't realize it yet.  We need to dig into moments where he felt like his faith helped him or felt more real to him, and hopefully that will get him to where he needs to be.  I worry that his meeting with the pastor might make some of these disconnects really obvious and he might suggest he waits a year, but I don't know if that will really help or instead further disenchant him with the process if he needs to repeat these tasks again.  This isn't something we can force or make him want, but it also doesn't feel like something we can just dismiss and consider a "lost battle".  So it's time to try to meet him where he is, help him connect with his own faith and feelings, and hope it's enough.  For some people it's a next step, but for us it might just be planting a seed and hoping it blooms.