Category: Daily Life

Week 1 vs. Week 95: A COVID Retrospective

Leave a comment
May be an image of 3 people, people standing and indoor

“History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes.” –Mark Twain

Well, friends, here we are. Nearly two years into this COVID business, and I can’t help feeling deja vu every single day. COVID persists, people continue to astound me, and the world still seems a bit confused as to which way is up. I did the math, and this is week 95 (95!) since our schools first closed for “Two weeks to flatten the curve” (Oh my, weren’t we precious in March 2020?!).

And even though COVID seems to have signed the HOA agreement and moved in permanently next door, things are different now. I mean, they’re the same…but differently the same. Let me explain:

COVID Week 1:
There’s this new virus, Coronavirus, that the news keeps telling us has the potential to “significantly disrupt daily life”.
COVID Week 95:
There’s this new never-ending virus, Coronavirus COVID, that the news keeps telling us has the potential will continue to “significantly disrupt daily life” for all of eternity forever and ever, Amen.

COVID Week 1:
Wash your hands! Cough into your elbow! Lysol! Lyslol! Lysol!
COVID Week 95:
Stay home and quarantine for somewhere between 5 days-5 years if you cough, sneeze, have a headache, have aches (I’m nearing 40 years old…Is there ever a time again when I won’t have aches? Asking for a friend.), are tired, have a sore throat, have a runny nose or congestion, have diarrhea, feel nauseous, can’t smell well, can’t taste well, can’t breathe well, have recently traveled, or if you have recently been in contact with anyone with the above symptoms. If you cough or sneeze in public you will be publicly shunned and/or deported to a red state. Bathing in Lysol concentrate is recommended no more than three times per week so we can conserve the Lysol supply chain.

COVID Week 1:
Toilet paper becomes a wisp of a dream as store shelves are emptied and black market trading begins. I research bidets and whether our new septic system can handle TP alternatives such as moss or leaves.
COVID week 95:
Toilet paper remains scarce due to supply chain issues and a nationwide employee shortage. Free time activities include stalking neighborhood social media groups for updates on when Costco gets TP shipments and ordering bulk toilet paper from Amazon.

COVID Week 1:
Masks are reserved for Halloween or sterile surgical environments.
COVID Week 95:
Places I have found masks this week include, but are not limited to: The faces of literally every person I interact with outside of my own home, my purse, the gear shift in my car, my rearview mirror, under all 3 car seats, my driveway, inside my washing machine, under the hot tub lid, hanging from bicycle handlebars in our garage, the bottom of my shoe, the slide on the school playground, inside the toy box, and inside a cereal box.

COVID Week 1:
Getting our annual flu shots required four nurses to restrain one of my children; there was much weeping and gnashing of teeth.
COVID Week 95:
We celebrated getting our COVID vaccines like we’d won the lottery. There were balloons and prizes and songs and dances and I’m pretty sure I even caught streams of confetti falling in that school gymnasium vaccine clinic.

COVID Week 1:
Limit your contact with other people to reduce the spread of this new and yet-to-be-understood virus.
COVID Week 95:
Limit your contact with other people because you haven’t interacted with people IRL for nearly 2 years and it’s actually kind of dreamy staying home in your pajamas with your new BFF HBO Max.

Here’s to 95 weeks down–may our future be full of increasingly pleasant rhymes!

Hidden Potential

Leave a comment

Spring is my favorite season–there’s just something about the transition from near-constant darkness to the hope of light that awakens everything within me. Winter is survival mode, but spring is life being lived at its fullest.

One of my favorite springtime traditions is an annual pilgrimage to the tulip fields in Mount Vernon, about an hour north of our home. It’s like a mini-Holland with hundreds of acres of tulips painstakingly planted and nurtured and manicured by people with thumbs much greener than my own. Mount Vernon in April is a rainbow fallen to earth, with dazzling colors stretching across the valley all the way to the mountain foothills in the distance. It’s quite literally breathtaking.

But it’s not always like that. Last January I drove through Mount Vernon and all I saw was an endless valley of dirt. Ugly, boring brown dirt. In fact, most of the year when you drive through Mount Vernon the fields look like a bit of a wasteland. Mount Vernon looked simple and unattractive that winter afternoon–hardly the explosion of brilliance that I’ve come to expect from this area. And yet I knew that beneath that boring brown dirt there was something happening. Bulbs were being nourished (by that boring brown dirt), roots were forming, life was beginning. Blooms were there, just under the surface. January was the season of becoming. Without January I’d never get to experience April.

Last week I drove up to the tulip fields again, this time in mid-April. As I made the drive up to the fields, this is what I was thinking of. January. And April. I drove with anticipation that the hidden work happening underground all winter would result in beauty.

This year has felt a lot like a January. A very long, long January. And, just as the hidden potential of January produces the flowers of April, I feel like the toiling of this year is producing beauty in my life. God has used this prolonged season of disruption to do a lot of work in my life and our family–the arduous work underground of becoming something new, something better.

In January (irony?) we decided to embark on a journey that has been a long time in coming, but we’d just never really known how to take the first step. Our oldest son has had many challenges over the years, and we knew he needed help…but we really didn’t know what kind of help or how to get it or how to even ask for it. So, we decided to take a step, not knowing if it was the right step or even if it was in the right direction. I figured at the very least if it was the wrong step then we’d tumble down and know that we needed to try stepping a different way.

So, I scheduled our son for a series of assessments and, after several months of walking down that path, we realized it was the path that we should have been on years ago. When the results came in (In April, of course) it was both striking and reassuring–for the first time we had confirmation that the challenges he’d been facing were real. We hadn’t been imagining the challenges or somehow failed at parenting. We now had an official diagnosis. We had names for those challenges. ADHD. Autism. Dysgraphia.

And with those names came power. Power over the fear and doubt of what we didn’t yet understand. Power from the knowledge of a better path forward. Power from knowing that our son was and is who he always has been, which is exactly who he was always meant to be. Power in knowing which path we need to walk forward on and the people that can help us walk it a little less clumsily.

Receiving his diagnosis was our April. The hidden potential of our son had been buried underground, and now we could finally see the brilliance of who he is. All of the hard work that has been happening behind the scenes is showing us a better way forward. We can now face tomorrow with a renewed sense of hope and excitement because we know the right path to walk on. I know that path will not always be easy–in fact, it’s probably going to be messy and difficult as we dig our way out of the weeds–but I know it will lead us to a better final destination.

__________________

When I pulled off I-5 in Mount Vernon last week, I was not disappointed. The boring brown dirt had done its work, and the fields were a cacophony of color. The formerly-stagnant bulbs had sprouted into brilliant flower stalks, waving in the breeze and welcoming visitors to admire their beauty.

And as I gazed in wonder at the endless rows of perfection, I knew that the hard work underground was worth it. Because every good and beautiful thing is born from potential, from hard work in the off-season, and from time. Beauty does not just happen, it is created from labor and sacrifice. So, as our family moves forward with confidence into this new season of understanding, we will look for the beauty. Beauty created not just from labor and sacrifice, but from love. Because love is the most beautiful work of all.

Dear Me: A Letter To My Pre-Pandemic Self

Leave a comment
How to Write Letters to Legislators - WPCNHF

Dear Me,

I am writing to you from the future, in the year 2021. It’s early March, and as I look outside my living room window the world looks basically as it always has. The sky is shades of platinum that only a Seattleite knows how use to interpret the day’s upcoming weather. Our crocuses, resilient little things, emerged from the damp soil in our garden this week, despite my intentional neglect of all living things that don’t reside under my own roof. Woodpeckers frequent the giant cedar tree outside my kitchen window. It’s only a matter of time before they move over to our neighbor’s aging basketball hoop to show off to their would-be mates, their beak-on-metal birdsongs acting as our daily 5AM alarm. Our grass is starting to look like it needs mowing (Even though it’s full of giant 6-foot deep septic test holes, but that’s another story back-then-you doesn’t have to face yet so I’ll spare you the drama.). And even though the view from my window looks commonplace, this year has been anything but.

You don’t know this yet, but change–MONUMENTAL change–is coming. I don’t want to jinx the time-space continuum or anything, so I won’t tell you exactly what’s going on. But know this: this last year has been the strangest, scariest, saddest, self-stretch-iest time I’ve ever experienced in my life. There will be days that you experience first-hand what it feels like to be hanging on with just your fingernails at the end of your rope. And there will be days of self-discovery that make every struggle, every sacrifice worth it all. This year will tear apart your world–it will tear apart the world–but you will survive. And you will thrive. Because pain is part of the process of metamorphosis.

During The Big Change you will do things you never thought you could do. You will do things you said you would never do.

Like homeschooling.

That’s right. Homeschooling.

As in, your kids won’t enter a school building for an entire year and the classroom will move to your couch. And you’ll try to teach them and they’ll try to learn from you and some days you’ll get it all right and other days you’ll just notice all the gray hairs you’ve accumulated in the homeschool classroom. You’ll experience the elated joys of those “A-ha! Moments” that drove you to be a teacher decades ago. You’ll experience the despair of long-division and subtraction with regrouping. You’ll teach the kids vital life lessons like how to care for their own bodies and minds and souls. You’ll also teach them how to be bored (Lot’s of time for that with The Big Change!), how to scrub toilets (I miss our monthly housecleaner with the same ferocity that I miss sunshine in the middle of February.), and to just leave me the heck alone if the bathroom door is locked (Don’t tell them I hide chocolate in the top right drawer of the vanity.).

And through this homeschooling process, you’ll discover your kids in whole new ways. Some of the most important learning you’ll do during The Big Change is about these little people and what drives them and what they need out of you and out of life. You’ll realize some things your kids really needed that they weren’t getting before–the pieces of the puzzle just didn’t fit together until you spent all day, every day together without interruption for an entire year. And you’ll have enough fortitude after The Big Change to embark on some difficult journeys with your kids that you didn’t have the strength or the drive to face before. It will be hard and it will be good and it will be necessary. And you’ll all be better for it.

Speaking of homeschooling, you’ll get to see a lot of your kids during The Big Change. I don’t know if I should tell you this yet because you’re probably going to freak out, but basically *you and your kids won’t leave your house for an entire year*. Forget travel, concerts, museums, and restaurants. Even the little things will seem huge to you after The Big Change. You’ll look back fondly on the good ‘ol days when you could have daily adventures like dropping the kids off at school, going inside a physical store to do your grocery shopping, and visiting with the neighborhood moms at the bus stop every afternoon. The inside of Costco will feel like a distant dream of Nirvana.

The walls of your home will become your personal fortress and you’ll do everything you can to make it feel right. You’ll spend an unfathomable number of hours and dollars building a sound-proof home theater that doubles as an entertainment venue and a family-evading escape room. You’ll start meeting with an architect to draw up plans to blow up one whole side of the house and create an oasis in its wake. You’ll discover that new septic systems cost twice as much as new cars, but are at least half as much fun. A therapist-suggested “Mindfulness Exercise” will set you into a panic attack when you become mindful of the scuffs and dust and grime that cover every square inch of your home. You’ll leave the Christmas lights on the house year-round simply because they’re bright and they make you happy. Your home will become so much more than a home. It will, in a sense, become your whole world during The Big Change.

Your home will also become your husband’s workplace. You know how he’s always said that he wanted to work from home, and when we bought this house he insisted on having his own room that he could claim as his office *just in case* he ever got to work from home? Well, his dream came true (Maybe we’ll blame him for what happened next). Hubby has been working at home every day for over a year now, and he’s in paradise. Seriously, this is one of the best things that could have happened to him. Future Hubby will love not having to commute. He’ll love shutting his office door and having nobody interrupt him for hours on end. He’ll love having a recliner in his office where he can read and take naps during his breaks. He’ll be the happiest, most productive version of himself.

And you’ll be happier for the work-from-home scenario, too. He’ll be home with the kids if you need to run out of the house for an errand or a walk or a good cry in your car (this happens with regularity during The Big Change). He’ll be less stressed, and that energy will pass on to you and the kids. He’ll pop upstairs for lunch and breaks and you’ll get to connect in shared moments that you’ve never had in your entire 15-year marriage. You’ll see his incredible work ethic played out every single day, and you’ll love him more for it. It will be a serendipitous outcome from a most unexpected change.

There will be other unexpected positives that come out of The Big Change. You know those neighbors who you’ve always loved but hadn’t gotten to spend much time with before? Those neighbors will essentially become a second family to you. They’ll walk through life’s biggest challenges with you, give your kids a vital social outlet, celebrate milestones with you, and lend you rolls of toilet paper when there’s not a scrap of T.P. to be found on the planet (Don’t even get me started on this one. But maybe you should start amassing a significant supply of toilet paper and stockpile it in your basement. You know, just in case future-you might need it or something.).

You’ll make sacrifices for the greater good, and this altruism will color every aspect of your life. You’ll be more humbled and more grateful than you’ve ever been before. You’ll be reminded that you are not in control, and that’s exactly where you’re supposed to be.

You’ll connect with nature when the great outside becomes your only outlet. You’ll walk hundreds of miles around your neighborhood and the fields behind your house. You’ll eat dinner across the deck from your best friends in the middle of December just so you can do something “normal”, frostbitten fingers aside. You’ll embrace the (admittedly terrible) weather, and every member of your family will own full rain-proof regalia so you can venture outside even when none of you wants to.

You’ll wear one of three versions of the same outfit every day, and you won’t change out of yoga pants for a year (I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but you’ll be the most comfortable self you’ve ever been).

You’ll learn new Big Change vocabulary: unprecedented (We’re going to try something we’ve never tried before, and we’ll just see how it goes); robust (multi-faceted systems that continue to be multi-faceted and we will continually point out their multi-faceted-ness); asynchronous (the old-school pre-recorded setting on your DVR); “out of an abundance of caution” (This shtuff is super scary and super overwhelming and we don’t understand it at all so we’ve gotta shut it all down NOW!); Zoom (a necessary evil); maskless (selfish); essential worker (someone who can’t do their job from behind a screen); birthday parade (A 5-minute drive-by birthday party. See also: best invention for over-stressed parents EVER.); social distancing (people actually respecting your bubble of personal space); vaccine (liquid gold).

And through it you’ll persevere. It will be the strangest, scariest, saddest, self-stretch-iest time you’ve ever experienced in your life, but you will hold on to what is most important: Your health, the helpers and the helping, and your hope. By the end of the first year of The Big Change you’ll start to see the light at the end of the tunnel. The darkest days will be behind you, and the end will be in sight. So you’ll continue to persevere with hope for the better days that lay ahead. Because life–no matter how unprecedented it may be–will always be worth living well.

Love,

Me

My Quarantine Bookshelf

Leave a comment

IMG_3076

I’ve always loved reading. I am the kid who (literally) had my 10th birthday party at a bookstore (As you can now tell–if you didn’t know it already–I was the cool kid in the class). Since we’ve been in quarantine, though, I’ve picked up reading again with a voracity that I haven’t known in years. Basically I’ve taken this quarantine lockdown as my own personal Silent Reading Mandate. My bedside table is covered in stacks of books that I’m actually reading. It’s fantastic.

In a time like this when we are physically confined, reading is the ultimate escape. Since the COVID lockdown officially began about two months ago, I’ve been using books as a way to take mental vacations every single day. I’ve trekked through the Swiss Alps, gone backstage at San Francisco comedy clubs, spent time on the beaches of the San Juan Islands, experienced Gold Rush California, and taken an ancient pilgrimage from Canterbury to Rome. All from a safe social distance, of course.

If you’re looking for some inspiration for your own virtual retreat, here is what I’ve been reading:

Fierce, Free, and Full of Fire: The Guide to Being Glorious YouFierce Free and Full of Fire by Jen Hatmaker
Oh, how I love Jen Hatmaker. She writes from the heart with humor and grace and moxie–it’s the perfect combination. Some of my fondest book memories involve Jen Hatmaker, including the time I drove across the state of California with an infant to hear her speak…only to get stuck in California traffic and nearly miss the whole conference (All’s well that ends well, though, because my sob story landed me a private audience with Jen–see, we’re buddies–and a book signing while she held my baby).

This book was released mid-quarantine and, truly, it is the perfect quarantine read. It’s inspiring and heartfelt and makes me want to implement positive changes in my life RIGHT NOW (well, as soon as I can pull myself out of my yoga pants-induced stupor fueled by home-baked sourdough bread).

Rick Steves Switzerland (Tenth Edition) by Avalon Travel
I’ve had this book sitting on my nightstand for half a year as we planned our epic trip to Switzerland scheduled for earlier this month. As we all know now, that trip never happened (Still heartbroken. Still complaining about it. Not over it.). I’ve kept the book on my nightstand because I still like to dream…and what better place to dream of than idyllic mountain villages covered in cheese and chocolate?

Dear Girls: Intimate Tales, Untold Secrets & Advice for Living Your Best Life by [Ali Wong]Dear Girls by Ali Wong
This was a lucky last-minute find at the library right before the world shut down. I heard a rumor–with about 2 hours notice–that our library might be closing with no scheduled re-opening date. I dropped everything, threw the kids in the car, and proceeded to check out nearly 200 books from the library to hold us over through whatever impending disaster might be looming on the horizon. I had been waiting for this book from the library for several months, but my number still hadn’t come up in the queue. I happened to find it in the (aptly named) “Lucky Day Collection”–basically, it’s a high-demand book that you can check out on the spot, but you only get it for 2 weeks and then you have to give some other lucky library patron their chance at winning the book. It’s like winning the lottery and Christmas all at once. This is why I love libraries.

Anywho…the book is written by Asian-American comedian Ali Wong (If you haven’t already, stop what you’re doing and go watch her Netflix specials. You’re welcome.). Each chapter is written as a letter to her two young daughters (to read when they’re much, MUCH older). It’s hilarious but quite raunchy, so read it if you want to take down your filters and just laugh.

The Girl Who Wrote in Silk by [Kelli Estes]The Girl Who Wrote In Silk by Kelli Estes
OK, funny story with this one. My sister’s mother in law sent me a book a few months ago written by the same author as this book–she had bought it when she was here visiting from California, and she liked that it was written by a Washington-native author who shared her same last name. Long story short, I found out that the author actually lives in the same town as me, and now we’re Facebook friends (Hi, Kelli!). So, of course, I had to read her other books!

This book is set in the same locations–Seattle and the Orcas Island in the San Juans–in two separate time periods (the present day and 1886). The novel follows a young woman who discovers an elaborately stitched piece of fabric hidden in her deceased aunt’s house. As she begins to unravel the story that is being told in the embroidery, she sees how closely her life is intertwined with that of the artist who created it, a young Chinese-American woman who lived a century before and was escaping the prejudice and violence against the Chinese people in that time period. It’s a beautiful story about doing what is right in the face of adversity, and the power that our own stories hold.

American Disruptor: The Scandalous Life of Leland Stanford by Roland De Wolk
This was actually one of Jon’s birthday gifts that I stole from him before he even got a chance to read it. This book is a biography of Leland Stanford, the founder of Stanford University–and it doesn’t hold back any of the ugly truth of who this self-made man was.

When Jon was in grad school at Stanford I spent quite a bit of time learning about the Stanford family so I knew the basics of who they were and how they started the school, but I was curious to know the gritty details. This book goes into backstory of Stanford’s life all the way back to his middle-class birth and upbringing in the early 1800’s in upstate New York, follows him through his apathy and absolute failures throughout life that moved him continuously westward, and sheds light on the cheating and stealing that made him one of the wealthiest Americans of all time. Through all of his failures–and an incredibly devastating tragedy–however, he went on to found one of the most prestigious universities in the nation. It was an interesting read and an enlightening history lesson. (Side note: I’m glad I will never have to meet Leland Stanford in real life.)

Talking to Strangers: What We Should Know About the People We Don't KnowTalking To Strangers by Malcolm Gladwell
I’ve read all of Malcolm Gladwell’s books and they’re always thought-provoking and help me to see things from a totally different perspective. This book about how we interact with strangers–and how our biases, our assumptions, and our desires play out in those interactions–makes you see social interaction in a totally new light. Right now is quite interesting timing to read a book on social interactions, especially as nearly all of our social interactions have become virtual. This book has given new meaning to “stranger danger”. I just may never speak to a real-life stranger again.

A Pilgrimage to Eternity: From Canterbury to Rome in Search of a FaithA Pilgrimage To Eternity: From Canterbury to Rome in Search of a Faith by Timothy Egan
This is the memoir of a man who takes an ancient pilgrimage on the Via Francigena, a thousand-mile trek through the theological cradle of Christianity. He begins in Canterbury, England before passing through France, crossing the Swiss alps, and continuing south to the Vatican in Rome. While on the journey he grapples with his own troubled past with the Catholic church and searches for meaning in a world that is often difficult and full of pain.

I love books like this where I get to be a bug-on-the-shoulder and get a free ride through someone else’s adventure. I loved seeing the ancient castles of England, the beautiful scenery of the French countryside, the majesty of the Swiss Alps. I indulged in patisserie in Arras, took a tour through ancient wine cellars in Châlons-en-Champagne, and tasted sumptuous testaroli in Pontremoli. All this, and I never even had to pay for a plane ticket or suffer through blisters on my toes.

*** Bonus Children’s Books ***
I’ve chosen to include a couple of children’s books for good measure because I spend at least an hour a day reading to my children (Again: grateful I checked out those 100 books from the library right before lockdown went into effect…).

Emily’s Idea by Christine Evans
I just have to include this beautiful book on my list because my dear friend Christine wrote it and I think it’s a masterpiece. The book was released during the quarantine, too, making it an appropriate addition to anyone’s quarantine reading list.

This story follows a little girl (Emily, based upon Christine’s real-life daughter Emily) who has a wonderful idea that spreads around her community and around the world. The message is inspiring for kids and their grown-ups alike, and there’s even a template in the back of the book to make your own paper doll chain (Hello, quarantine Arts & Crafts!).

Indescribable: 100 Devotions For Kids About God and Science by Louie Giglio
Every morning since quarantine began I’ve been sitting down with my kids and doing a 10 minute Bible time. This regular Bible time has been grounding for me (and, hopefully, also for my kids) in a time when everything feels so up in the air.

I started going through this devotional with my kids a few weeks ago and we’ve all enjoyed it. Each story ties in a Bible verse, some cool “weird science” phenomenon from the real world, and a way to connect the lesson to your life today.

So, that’s what I’ve been reading for the last couple months of lockdown. I’d love to hear what’s been on your quarantine bookshelf so I can get some more ideas. Happy reading!

Fortunately This Will All Be Over Some Day

Leave a comment

30007CAA-35E7-4E64-8680-BDC684CA26DB

Today marks 6 weeks since our school district announced they would be closing for in-person classes due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Six long weeks that have essentially thrust me into a time warp. From that fateful day onward, our world began to slowly (and then quite rapidly) shut down around us–and what a whirlwind it has been!

I have started a routine with my kids each morning where we write down the day’s date together–not so much because I care what day it is, but because if I don’t write it down I fear we will never find our way out of the COVID-chasm again. You could ask me a question such as what I had for breakfast this morning or what day/week/month the International Olympic Committee announced their deferment of this summer’s games, and I would simply look at you with the same dumbfounded look. I just don’t know. We have entered a supernatural realm where time nor space nor work nor former purpose seems to hold any significant meaning. For better or worse: The world has changed.

And, speaking of “for better or worse”, I like to play a little game when life becomes tragically hilarious as it has at this moment. The game is called “Fortunately/Unfortunately” and it goes a bit like this:

Fortunately the world is still spinning.

Unfortunately everything in the world has had to shut down.

Fortunately, my 3 adorable/precious/loved/needy/not-yet-self-sufficient children still have school.

Unfortunately, all of their schooling has moved out of the classroom and onto “the cloud”.

Fortunately, “the cloud” is not an actual cloud, because all of the airlines are shut down and it would be quite difficult to reach the clouds by our own might.

Unfortunately, this means my children are doing school at home. Yes, even the preschooler.

Fortunately, we have internet access and computers and *me* to oversee the daily learning/weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Unfortunately, even teachers working in one of the most tech-savvy pockets of one of the most industrialized nations on earth run into tech issues during remote learning. And Zoom is full of perverts.

Fortunately, my son is too preoccupied with turning his computer background into a mythical Pokémon creature during his Zoom lessons or typing “toot” in the private chat bar to notice any of the tech glitches that may or may not occur during this time.

Unfortunately, he still has to learn the material presented during lessons. Even if they’re on a cloud.

Fortunately, his mom has basically given up on hardcore academics at this point and is pretty well appeased by “good enough”.

Unfortunately, school is not our only preoccupation.

Fortunately, baking and consuming massive amounts of empty carbohydrates is not a difficult task to pull off.

Unfortunately, I don’t think the new jeans that I bought back in February will fit me any more.

Fortunately, I haven’t even tried them on since February (#yogapantsforthewin). Ignorance is bliss.

Unfortunately, diet and exercise is still important. Even when you’re in lockdown.

Fortunately, I have a 100% legitimate excuse for not making it to the gym.

Unfortunately, the gym being closed is not a legitimate excuse for sloth.

Fortunately, my husband is a born-again Cross-Fit converter and we have enough gym equipment in our basement to make Gold’s Gym shudder behind their no-cancellation-policy long-term contracts.

Unfortunately, simply possessing gym equipment does not somehow make you magically fit.

Fortunately, my friend makes Facebook Live videos of her workouts so I can join with her to sweat it out.

Unfortunately, my kids and dog always want to join in my workout fun (Sidenote: The best part of working out is that you do it without your kids and dog.).

Fortunately, I have learned that I can sit my kids in front of a screen for an hour, slip outside with my yoga mat, and nobody ever even realizes I’ve tried to do something without them.

Unfortunately, no good thing lasts forever, and eventually you have to return to the screen zombies.

Fortunately, my children are totally fine with me turning off screens and they never throw a fit or scream or stomp or cry when screen time is over.

Unfortunately, this is a true story. Children losing screen time without losing their minds is a paradox that does not exist in reality.

Fortunately, our TV is password protected and I’m now strengthened from my invigorating bout of exercise. Off go the screens!

Unfortunately, now I have to make dinner. The children are not pleased. They are *just a colossal smidge* tired and cranky and demanding my attention, even though I’ve basically done nothing today except give them my attention.

Fortunately, I have a fridge full of food because I just picked up my once-weekly grocery order last night.

Unfortunately, I have to cook all of the food. Again. For the “Every meal of every day”th time since this lockdown began.

Fortunately, as with all things in my life at this point in time, my acceptance of mediocrity has reached an all-time high. Hot dogs and chips it is.

Unfortunately, this dinner is lacking a bit of pizzazz.

Fortunately, there are several dozen wineries in my town that are now offering free at-home no-contact delivery. Which brings me to my next question: Which pairs better with fire-roasted frankfurters and crispy tortilla strips: Syrah or Zinfandel?

Unfortunately, after dinner we still have to kill a few hours until bedtime.

Fortunately, family movie night has become a nightly occurrence.

Unfortunately, even with Disney+, Netflix, Hulu, Plex, PrimeVideo, and a collection of old DVD’s there is nothing to watch.

Fortunately, all of the movies my kids had been anticipating being released in the theaters are now being directly released to home streaming.

Unfortunately, the new Trolls movie costs $19.99. To rent.

Fortunately, it’s still light enough outside in the evening that you can just send the kids outside to play instead.

Unfortunately, your kids seem bent on climbing high trees and jumping off of moving objects. You remind them that they may NOT, for any reason, break a limb right now.

Fortunately, your kid who broke his arm in September and had to wear a cast up to his armpit for the first 6 weeks of first grade understands the severity of the situation. He implores his siblings to comply. Kind of.

Unfortunately, we have spent most of the evening arguing over unwatched movies and safe outdoor playtime tactics, and now it is time for bed.

Fortunately, it is time for the kids to go to bed.

Unfortunately, the kids will not stay in bed forever.

Fortunately, we are putting the kids to bed. Right now.

Unfortunately, the kids getting to bed can not happen soon enough.

Fortunately, both parents are equally motivated to get the kids to bed and we move them through the bedtime routine in double time.

Unfortunately, one kid has a wiggly tooth (WHY AT BEDTIME MUST YOU HAVE A WIGGLY TOOTH?!?!?!) and another kid has somehow outgrown all of their pajamas.

Fortunately, the tooth fairy can still make house calls during quarantine and Amazon carries pajamas.

Unfortunately, everything I order on Amazon is now taking approximately 23 years to arrive.

Fortunately, we’ve sorted out both the tooth and the pajamas, and the kids are finally in bed.

Unfortunately, we have to do this all over again tomorrow.

Fortunately, we have another tomorrow. Another chance to do life a bit differently, to take a step back, to lower our standards, and to try something new. Tomorrow is a gift, and even this will all be over some day.

 

 

 

 

10 Lessons I’ve Learned From Being Broken

Leave a comment

Image result for healing

In order to appreciate what I’m about to tell you, you have to understand how I got here.  Some of you already know this story, so bee patient (pun intended…you’ll see why!).

Back in July I did something that I rarely do: I weeded my garden. I deeply regret my poor decision to partake in this activity, and I have already promised myself never to do it again. Under the best of circumstances, weeding is a mundane and terrible task. On this particular occasion, however, my garden weeding actually changed the course of my life.

I had been weeding the flower beds in front of our house and I was nearing the end of the final bed when I decided to pull up a clump of dead/dying flowers/weeds (Don’t ask me what the plant actually was because I know next to nothing about plants. It was ugly, though, so I decided it had to go.). I was in the zone (which is code for I was trying to get this horrendous chore over with as quickly as possible), so without thinking–or even really looking–I stepped into the garden bed, reached both hands down to the base of the plant, and pulled as hard as I could.

Now, usually what you would expect to happen next is that I pulled up the plant and went on my merry-little-weeding-way.

But that didn’t happen.

Not exactly.

You see, when I pulled up the plant it did dislodge from the ground. That part was fine. What wasn’t fine was what else I dislodged from the ground when I pulled that plant with all my might. Specifically, an entire nest of (very disgruntled) ground wasps.

Before I even knew what was happening I had an entire colony of wasps attacking me (Which I really can’t blame them for because I would do the same thing if a giant came and pulled up my whole home with all of my buddies in it.). The wasps started stinging me and chasing me and stinging me again. And again. And again.

So I did what any rational adult would do in this situation: I ran flailing through the yard yelling obscenities while I stripped off all of my clothing. My children, who had been playing nonchalantly in the yard, were witness to the whole wasp escapade. I’m pretty sure we’ll now have to take them to therapy for PTSD after what they witnessed on that fateful day. Thankfully we captured the whole thing on our surveillance cameras, so if paying for the therapy becomes a burden I can always submit the videos to AFV and use the prize money to pay off our bills.

All said and done, I had been stung close to 20 times. My entire body swelled up for a week and I developed a close relationship with Calamine Lotion and ice packs.  But I’m a fighter, and I pulled through The Wasp-pocalypse of 2019. I am a survivor.

Which brings me to my present predicament. You see, when I was flailing my body through my front yard trying to ward off the wasps I actually did some damage…to myself. Somewhere between karate chopping the evil bugs and twisting out of my t-shirt I managed to pull some muscles in my back.

I’ve had back injuries before (basically non-stop since babies decided to inhabit my womb and pull all of my joints out of place), but this time was different. My back pains before had come and gone with enough time and rest, but this bugger wasn’t ready to move on.

By October, 3 months after the Wasp-pocalypse, I was still experiencing chronic back pain. It hurt to stand. It hurt to sit. It hurt to move. Heck, it even hurt to think about moving. I’d tried resting and stretching and thinking good thoughts, but nothing was helping.

So, finally, I decided to take action. 3 weeks ago I started Physical Therapy (PT) to *hopefully* build back up some strength and get along with my life. My PT journey has been fun so far, mostly because literally every person in my family (Mom, Dad, sisters, even a cousin) are PT’s and I finally get to see things from the other side of the workout room.

But it’s also been hard. And uncomfortable. And not always fun. It’s a lot of work building yourself back up when you’ve been broken. Through my being broken I’ve learned a few things about myself and the process of building myself back up. Wisdom I will now share with you, my friends:

  1. Give Myself Permission For Healing
    This was the hardest thing for a long time. I’m so used to taking care of others and attending to their needs that it was difficult to allow myself the time and space for my own healing. I figured if I brushed my own needs aside for long enough, eventually they’d take care of themselves. Not true, and not what’s best for me.
  2. Admit I Need Help
    I tried (haphazardly) doing things on my own. And when that wasn’t enough, I had to humble myself enough to ask for help. In my case, this was professional help from PT’s who have spent 5 or more years of their lives learning how to put broken people like me back together.
  3. Patience
    Healing takes time. I’m definitely a subscriber to the immediate gratification model, so this one is difficult for me. But I’m learning. I’m learning to do what I can do now, with the hope that a payoff will be coming. Some day.
  4. Don’t Sweat the Setbacks
    One of the activities I want to return to is running. I’m a former marathon runner who literally can’t even make it a mile before I’m doubled over in pain. So when my PT told me to try incorporating a bit of running again I decided to go jog a few miles. Not a good idea. In fact, a very bad idea.By the time I’d hobbled back home I was in so much pain I didn’t know if my back was even still attached to my body. But I didn’t let that deter me from trying again. After resting for a couple of days I tried again, this time just running for 1-2 minutes at a time and then walking. And do you know what?! It worked! It still hurt and it was still incredibly discouraging to see the failings of my body, but I made it. And I’ll keep trying until I finally get it.
  5. Allow Myself Rest
    Oh, this one is the actual WORST! Sometimes I view rest as a 4-letter word in my mind, and it is so so hard for me. On an intellectual level, though, I know that rest is one of the parts of my program that I need in order to heal. So I do the most Type-A thing you could do and I literally schedule rest into my calendar. I even have an alarm on my phone. In fact, as I write this post I’m sitting on a chair propped up by pillows with an ice pack on my back…hey, whatever works!
  6. Be Kind To Myself
    This process has not been easy or pretty and nothing is happening on the timeline that I would like it to, but I’m trying to think positive. I’m being my own cheerleader and I’m encouraging myself. A huge part of healing is mental, and I’m going to use that to my advantage.
  7. Consistence + Persistence
    I have to do my exercises every. Single. Day. If I slack for a day, the losses start to compound very quickly…and the only person this hurts is myself. Consistency.And consistency requires persistence, even when it’s not easy or convenient. Sometimes this means I have a preschooler stretched out on my yoga mat with me during my exercise block. Sometimes this means sacrificing 2 of my 4 “solo hours” a week while all 3 kids are in school at the same time to go to my PT appointments. Sometimes this means saying no to an activity that I want to do because I know that it wouldn’t help with my healing right now. Healing requires persistence, one small decision at a time.
  8. Epstein Didn’t Kill Himself
    May the truth set you free.
  9. Accept That Things May Never Be The Same
    As much as I want things to be “back to normal” I’m quite aware that I may never be able to return to some activities or perform at the level that I once did. Whatever my new normal is, however, I can adapt and embrace it for what it is.
  10. Find Joy In The Process
    I’ve tried to find small ways to make this awkward process more enjoyable. I watch cheesy TV shows while I do my exercises (Did you know that Randy on Say Yes To The Dress is finally designing his own bridal gown collection?!). I pretend that I’m at the spa while I’m getting (incredibly painful) deep tissue massages at PT.  Heck, I just think about the ridiculous way I got myself into this predicament and I can’t help but laugh. And when all else fails, I remind myself of why I’m doing this, and it makes it all worth it.

Whatever brokenness you’re healing from–be it a wasp-related injury or something more profound–I wish you the best on your journey. Be persistent, be kind and, above all, find joy in the process.

Three Recipes That Have Changed My Life

Leave a comment

Image may contain: text

As many of you know, cooking is not my favorite thing. This has not always been the case. In fact, there was a time in my life when I used to love cooking. That era was when I had the time to cook what I wanted and then actually sit down to eat and enjoy what I’d prepared. That era, my friends, ended nearly 9 years ago on October 27, 2010 (Also known as the day my first baby was born).

Somehow, though, I am still expected to cook 3 meals and 5,463 snacks every. Single. Day. That’s a lot of cooking for someone who has lost the joy of cooking.

But there is hope! I have a few go-to recipes that have changed my life. I rotate my favorite recipes with such precision that my family knows what day of the month it is purely by what is served on our dinner table. It’s a survival mechanism, and it works.

My criteria for an outstanding recipe are:
1. It is easy to make. We’re talking, so easy I can make this dish while simultaneously helping a kid with homework, assisting a preschooler to build a Duplo city, and breaking up a sibling fight.
2. Is it tasty enough that either:
A) at least 60% of my family will eat it.
Or
B) it’s so delicious that I won’t mind a bit if I have to eat the whole thing myself.

That’s it. I’m pretty easy to please (Motherhood has lowered my standards by a not-insufficient amount).

When I was thinking about what recipes I wanted to share with you here today, I was reminded of one of my favorite shows–Master Chef (I have no problem at all watching other people struggle in the kitchen.). For the grand finale of Master Chef the competitors must prepare a 3-course meal: appetizer, entree, and dessert.

So that is precisely what I will do for you today, my friends. Although I will be presenting 3 courses worth of recipes, I would not necessarily recommend eating them all together at the same meal. It would be a weird combo of foods, but I suppose anything is possible. Free country and everything.

And, since this is a free country, I’m going to start with my favorite course first: Dessert.

5-Minute Chocolate Mug Cake
AKA The Most Dangerous Cake Recipe In The World
Cake is by far my favorite meal of the day, so it’s only fitting that I would highlight a cake recipe for my dessert course.

Ingredients

  • 4 Tablespoons flour
  • 4 Tablespoons sugar
  • 2 Tablespoons cocoa powder (Get the good stuff here, folks. No off-brand Kroger Cocoa or similar rubbish. We’re looking for something along the lines of Ghiradelli or Godiva–go big or go home!).
  • 1 egg
  • 3 Tablespoons milk
  • 3 Tablespoons oil (vegetable, canola, whatevs…as long as it’s the edible kind of oil)
  • 3 Tablespoons chocolate chips (Optional. JK. Chocolate chips are never optional. If you want to succeed at life, definitely always add chocolate chips.)
  • A small splash of vanilla extract

Instructions

  1. Get a big ‘ol coffee mug. Make sure it is microwaveable. Otherwise you’ll make sparks in your kitchen, and I’m not talking about what you and your husband do after you put the kids to bed.
  2. Add dry ingredients to the mug and mix well.
  3. Add the egg and beat it like you’re Mike Tyson in the boxing ring.
  4. Pour in the milk and oil and mix well.
  5. Add chocolate chips. Now add a little extra. You’ll thank me later.
  6. Put your mug in the microwave and microwave for 2 minutes 30 seconds – 3 minutes. This is not an exact science. Well, maybe it is. But when I’m cooking chocolate cake in a mug in my microwave I don’t want to mess with the math of microwave watts and the volume of my mug or any of that mumbo-jumbo. Just watch your cake and take it out when it looks done-ish. If you like your cake moist, take it out earlier. If you like it really well-done and dry so you kill all of the salmonella or whatever, cook it longer.
  7. The cake might rise over the top of the mug while it’s cooking. DO NOT BE ALARMED! This, like toddler tantrums in a grocery store, is an expected part of life.
  8. Unless you enjoy the sensation of molten lava on your palette, allow your cake to cool a little bit before you dig in.
  9. EAT!!! Supposedly this dessert is meant to share, but I’ve never tested that theory.

Moving on, now. I’m rather enjoying the excitement of presenting these courses out of order, so let’s do something really crazy!

May I present Course 2: Appetizer

Pan-Roasted Vegetables
Seriously? Roasted vegetables as an appetizer?! Yes, vegetables are an appetizer. Just look in the “Starters” section of any fancy-by-millenial-standards restaurant and I guarantee you’ll find fried brussels sprouts. Roasted is just the healthier version of fried, and I’m oh-so-healthy (as indicated by Course 1 above). But seriously. These things are highly addictive and I almost always eat the whole pan myself.

Ingredients:

  • One big handful per person of a hearty vegetable (Broccoli, Asparagus, Brussels Sprouts, green beans, Potatoes, Carrots)
  • Olive Oil (the big jug from Costco works just fine)
  • Salt and Pepper
  • Finishing pizzazz (Varies depending on the veggie and the mood you’re in. Includes but is not limited to: squeeze of fresh lemon juice, balsamic glaze, honey, parmesan cheese, crumbled bacon)

Instructions

  • Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.
  • While your oven is getting ready to work some magic transforming bland produce into heavenly bites, rinse and pat dry your veggies.
  • Spread out your veggies on a large baking sheet with enough room between them so nobody is touching or passing along any cooties.
  • Douse the whole thing with Olive Oil. Don’t be too stingy here. We want enough oil that the veggies won’t get a sunburn, but they don’t need to swim in the stuff either.
  • Use your fingers to massage the oil into your veggies the same way (you wish) your husband would massage your back after you’ve had a long day of caring for his offspring.
  • Sprinkle some salt and pepper fairy dust all over those veggies.
  • Bake in the oven for 15-20 minutes. I use a very scientific method to determine when this dish is done. Jab a fork in one of the veggies after 10-15 minutes and if it’s hard as a rock, then it’s not done. If the fork goes in the way I would want my fork to go in when I’m eating it, then it’s done. If the vegetable is black like burnt vegetables, it is over done.
  • As soon as you take the tray out of the oven, spread some pizzaaz. My favorite combos are: broccoli + lemon juice + parmesan cheese, brussels sprouts + balsamic glaze, carrots + honey, green beans + bacon
  • Watch as your children refuse to touch the green stuff while you gorge yourself on a farmer’s market’s worth of vegetables in one sitting.

And, finally, the main event (or, in our case, the main course).

Panang Curry with Chicken, 3 Stars
Jon makes fun of me because any time we go out to eat I order the exact same thing. As in, if we go to restaurant X, I 100% will be ordering entreé Y. What can I say–I know what I like, and I like what I know. Thai food is my absolute favorite, and every time we eat at any Thai restaurant I order the Panang Curry with Chicken, 3 Stars. And since I can’t go to eat every day I have learned how to make a darn good copycat of my own.

Ingredients

  • 1 pound boneless skinless chicken breasts, thinly sliced
  • A splash of vegetable oil
  • Panang Curry Paste (Just buy the good stuff on Amazon and save yourself a trip to a grocery store that probably won’t have it anyway).
  • 1 can coconut milk (Not coconut creme, that’s for your piña coladas…which, coincidentally, would go quite well with this dish…)
  • 1-2 Tablespoons peanut butter (Unless you’re allergic to peanuts, in which case I bid you adieu.)
  • 1-2 Tablespoons brown sugar (Or, if you’re not a sugar addict like me, 0 Tablespoons of brown sugar)
  • 1-2 Tablespoons fish sauce (Ewwww! Right?! I hate fish more than probably anyone else on the planet, so trust me when I say that this stuff will not make your curry taste like the ocean. It adds salty flavor, that’s it. Start with just a splash in your curry if you don’t trust it, and see what you think. Again, Amazon to the rescue.)
  • (optional) 1-2 teaspoons lime leaf powder (I don’t think this stuff is totally necessary, but it does taste good and it makes me feel fancy when I see lime leaf powder in my spice cabinet).
  • 1/2 red bell pepper thinly sliced
  • 1/2 green bell pepper thinly sliced
  • 1 small handful of frozen haricot vert (Fancy words for the skinny green beans)
  • 1/2 cup fresh diced pineapple if you have it (Really, you don’t need to buy a whole pineapple for this recipe just so you can throw a few chunks into your curry.)
  • For serving: Cooked rice

Instructions

  • In a wok (1st choice) or large pan (2nd choice), brown your chicken in the vegetable oil. If you’re going to be saving out some of the chicken to feed plain to your picky children, then make sure it’s cooked throughly. Or, if you’re adding the whole batch of chicken directly to your curry, you can even just skip this step entirely.
  • Remove chicken from the pan.
  • In the same pan add the curry paste (Hint: more = SPICIER! 3 stars–medium/hot–is about 1-2 Tablespoons of curry paste. Start by adding just a bit and then add more if you want it spicier), coconut milk, peanut butter, brown sugar, and fish sauce, and lime leaf powder. Heat on medium until you get a nice simmer going and everything melts together.
  • Add the chicken (if you didn’t already cook the chicken, simmer for about 20 minutes until the chicken is totally cooked through). Now would be a good time to make that piña colada. This is also a good time for you to prepare your picky kids’ not-curry dinners.
  • Add whatever veggies you want to use and simmer for another 5 minutes, until your veggies are softened but not mushy.
  • Serve over cooked rice.

That’s it! Three of the simplest and most delicious courses of food you’ll ever prepare. I hope I’ve un-inspired you to cook this week and always. Enjoy creating in your own kitchen (and if all else fails, there’s always Grub Hub!).

Someone I Love

Leave a comment

Image result for adhd love

I have wanted to write this post for over a year now, but the timing hasn’t been right. It has taken me this much time to start to wrap my mind around this subject and come to terms with what it means for me and my family. Time is a wonderful gift, though, and I do feel ready to share–the time is right, right now.

You see, October is ADHD Awareness month, and someone I love has ADHD.

That person is my 8-year old son David and, with his permission, I’d like to share a bit of his story.

For years now David has struggled in certain areas but we were never sure if the behaviors we noticed were a result of his immaturity (he was young!) or his lack of foundation (the poor kid was only 7 years old and had already lived in 6 different houses and been to 5 different schools!)…or something else. After years of suspecting and noticing and wondering, however, we finally decided to get some answers.

In the spring of David’s 1st grade year we went to our pediatrician and ran a number of tests. And, although the result was exactly what I had suspected all along, I was still caught off guard: my son has ADD.

As soon as the doctor gave me the official diagnosis I felt all of the emotions that I’d been holding on to for so long, and I felt them all at once. I felt relieved to finally have an explanation and an answer and a way to plan for the future. I felt nervous for how I would explain this to my son and how others would see him now that he had a “label”. I felt loss for the old normal and worried about what the new normal would look like for us. I felt overwhelmed by the choices Jon and I would now have to make on our son’s behalf. I felt guilty because I’m his mom and I can’t help but feel guilty any time everything isn’t perfect or going the way I’ve decided it’s supposed to go.

That night when Jon got home from work we sat down with David after we’d put his younger siblings to bed and took a moment to try and explain what had happened at the doctor’s office that day. We explained to David that he had something called ADD. We went on to explain that ADD is something he was born with, and that it makes some things more challenging for him. His brain is like a race car–it loves to go fast, but it has a hard time putting on the brakes.  How exciting, and also how difficult! We told him that there are some things that he can not control, and that it isn’t his fault. And then we told him the most important part: his ADD is not bad or wrong, it’s simply something that makes him unique in this big ‘ol world. It was not an accident that his brain was wired in this way.

God knew from the beginning of time that David would have ADD. For God, this was not a detour, but part of the original plan. And because He knew this, he already put the pieces into place to keep us steady on the (new) road that we now find ourselves on.

God knew that while some areas would be difficult for David, he gifted David immeasurably in other areas. God knew that David would have a mom who was a teacher, someone who knew all of the ropes when it came to setting up educational supports and accommodations in the classroom. God knew that David would have a dedicated dad who would spend his free time working on special projects with him that piqued his unique interests. God knew that David would have  patient and generous siblings to share life with. God knew that David would need smaller classes and more one-on-one help, so He always put David in these exact classes every year and at every school he’s ever been at (and that’s a lot of schools!).

In addition to preparing our family, God prepared David for this journey by giving him unique talents and abilities that are fueled by his “race car brain”. He is passionate and able to develop a depth of knowledge for his passions unlike anyone else I’ve ever met (Just quiz him about Pokémon stats, and you’ll know what I mean!). He is resilient and able to brush off what others might think in favor of simply doing what he feels is right. He is willing to take risks and test boundaries when others would simply give up. He provides a different perspective to every situation and helps others to see the world in new and fascinating ways. He is fiercely loyal has an incredible sense of justice–he will fight for those he loves with every ounce of his soul. He is amazing, he is special, he is exactly who he is supposed to be.

The road on our new adventure with ADD has not always been smooth, but we take comfort in knowing that it is the road we are supposed to be on.  We can go forward in confidence knowing that the same God who has carried us this far will continue to be with us wherever we go. And, so, forward we will go–not alone, but together.

How To Survive Washington Winter

2 Comments

winter

I grew up in Washington state and, with the exception of the 10 years we spent trying to live in as many different cities as we possibly could in a decade, I have always called Washington home. There are many things I love about Washington, but winter is not one of them.

You see, for a small sliver of the year we get to experience a magical time called Washington Summer. Fleeting as it may be, Washington Summer is a bit surreal–the weather is divine (Unlike some places where the summer heat is so unbearable that you actually have to retreat indoors!) and the people are the happiest gosh-darn people who you’ve ever laid eyes on. And why, you might ask, is everyone so happy during Washington Summer? I’ve thought a lot about this, and I’ve decided that the only reasonable explanation is Survivor Syndrome: Summer Washingtonians are happy for the simple fact that they’ve already survived Washington Winter.

Washington Winter is one of the most depressing seasons imaginable. The nights are long and dark, and the days are short…and also dark. And when I say season, I mean half of the year. Between the months of October and May most days in Washington go a bit like this: wake up in the dark, trod through a dark gray day, welcome the return of the dark sometime between finishing lunch and thinking about making dinner. It’s also cold, but not cold enough to make snow which would actually be exciting. Yes, this is the time of year when I long to be anywhere but smack-dab in the middle of Washington Winter.

However, long as dark as Washington Winter may be, there is hope! Here are a few ways that I have found to help cope–and maybe even enjoy–Washington Winter.

Enjoy sleeping in
Since the sun doesn’t come up until after breakfast during Washington Winter, your internal clock will be all out of whack. If you’re lucky, your kids will be so confused about how late it is that they will actually sleep in, too. So enjoy the sleep-ins while you can–it may even make up for the fact that your kids woke you up at 5:30 every morning during Washington summer.

Buy a light with the same name as your mood
On the 4th day God created the Sun…and on the first day of Washington Winter, man created SAD lights. You see, there is this thing that depressed people in Washington get in the winter called SAD (Seasonal Affect Disorder)–even the names of diseases caused by Washington Winter reflect the mood of everyone living through it. But no worries–if you have SAD you can hop over to your local Costco or Amazon Prime and, for around $40, you can buy a SAD light to set up your own mini-sun in your bedroom. After all, nothing says nirvana like staring into a desktop lightbulb!

Play flashlight tag…
…on your walk home from the school bus stop! When the sun sets before your kids amble off the big yellow bus, there is ample time for night games, even in the middle of the day! Other fun Washington Winter middle-of-the day-dark activities you might consider: snipe hunting, star gazing, glow stick waving, capture the flag, sleeping without an eye mask.

Catch up on everything you neglected all summer
During Washington Summer everyone basically lives outside and, even if you still have a 9-5, you’re living like you’re on summer vacation. Beside being exciting and exhausting, Washington Summer leaves plenty to catch up on during Washington Winter. Now is the time to clean your house, fold your laundry, organize those closets. And, once you’re done with all of that (since you’re stuck inside approximately 28 hours a day during Washington Winter) you’ll still have time to perfect a skill or take up a new hobby. Needlepoint, anyone?

Answer your toddler’s questions truthfully
When she asks you at 11AM if it’s time for bed, say yes.

Get outta here
Plan a vacation to somewhere not-Washington during Washington Winter. It doesn’t even really matter where you go, as long as it has daylight and *bonus points* some hope of warmth. Even Iceland with all of their hot springs and volcanoes would be an improvement in the warmth department. Seriously, though. If it is at all possible, just leave.

Rant
Sometimes you just have to get stuff out in the open so you can move past it. Don’t hide behind your hatred of Washington Winter–just get it out there! Rant to your friends about how much you miss your flip-flops and how you don’t even remember what skin pigmentation looks like any more. Complain about how your favorite shoes haven’t dried out since October and you’re pretty sure that new color is coming from the fungus that’s started to grow on them. And who knows–maybe after a good ranting you’ll even find camaraderie with another Washington-winter-weary friend who can’t remember where they put their sunglasses either.

Embrace it
If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. Sometimes you just have to leave your hopes and dreams at the door and surrender to reality. Washington Winter is here, and it’s not leaving any time soon. So zip up your big girl parka and enjoy it for what it is!

After all, Washington Summer is coming…

 

 

 

Too Old For Tutus

4 Comments

ballet3A few weeks ago I turned 35 and, now that I’m officially in my mid-thirties, I’ve noticed a few changes in my life. I’m more experienced, more confident of who I am in my own skin, more driven to achieve personal goals, maybe even a bit more wise. What I am not, this week has proven with certainty, is more athletic.

In my teens and twenties I was at the top of my physical game: I danced, I competed in gymnastics, I ran marathons. There seemed to be no limit to what my body could do with enough training and mental fortitude. But then something happened. I turned 30, popped out 3 babies, and my body decided that it had had enough. D.O.N.E. Done. My glory days are over, and it is time to settle the heck down. Old habits die hard, though, and I continue to think I can still act and do and move like I did a decade or more ago. Which is how I came into my present predicament.

Yesterday I decided to try out a new extreme sport: Mommy and Me Ballet.

ballet4

Mommy and Me waiting for our ballet class to begin

Why, you might ask, is Mommy and Me ballet an extreme sport? Isn’t that just a playful class of tiny dancers and their mommies twirling and hopping around a dance floor? Why, yes. Yes, it is. But somehow–somehow–I managed to turn this most innocent of toddler experiences into a death-defying physical battle and I ended up leaving the class in crutches.

How on earth does this happen? Well, let’s just say I’m too old for tutus.

The ballet class started out about as adorable as 8 little blonde two year olds in pink tutus can be. We twirled around the room to Disney music and practiced hopping on colored dots scattered across the floor. All fun and games so far. When we moved to the ballet barre, however, it all went downhill (for this nearly-over-the-hill mama, at least).

We were asked to raise up to our tippy toes and then plié…up, down, up, down, up, down. Basically we were doing pretty calf raises. As we were doing our pretty calf raises, however, I heard a strong snap in the back of my right leg–almost like a sudden and severe charlie horse that wouldn’t go away. By the time I got down from my tippy toes I realized that this was bad. This was very, very bad.

I spent the remainder of the class hopping around on my good foot since I couldn’t straighten my right foot or put any weight on it. And, because I was too prideful and embarrassed to sit out for such a ridiculous injury, I carried on. After all, I have over 10 years of advanced ballet dancing under my belt and I should be able to finish out one measly toddler ballet class, even if I am too old for this mumbo-jumbo. I managed to struggle through the rest of the class while Hannah had the time of her life twirling with scarves and bopping out to a Frozen medley.

When we got home I knew that I’d messed up my leg in a “not getting over this any time soon” kind of way. I texted Jon and let him know that he should plan on bringing home whatever he needed to work from home the next day if I was still immobile. I also sent out an SOS to my go-to guy in these situations: my Dad.

Lucky for me, my dad is a Physical Therapist with 40 years of experience helping people recover from injuries such as Mommy-and-me-ballet-induced torn calf muscles. Within an hour he was at my door, crutches and an air cast in hand. He taped up the offending calf and gave me instructions for proper icing, and a few hugs for good measure. If anyone ever tells you that you’re too old to need your parents, they are absolutely 100% wrong. I’ll remind my children of this often.

Doctor Dad coming to the rescue!

So, here I am: an invalid in my own home. Jon took the day off of work today so he can help drive the kids to their activities and make sure our family doesn’t fall apart while Mommy is out of commission (I’m sure he had a comical conversation with his boss explaining why he had to miss work today). I’m getting around alright with the crutches my dad left me with, but I’ve discovered that it’s actually easier to crawl than to crutch. I repurposed Ace bandages as knee pads, and I’m good as gold. Now if that’s not ingenuity, then I don’t know what is!

ballet1

Crawling: it’s what the cool kids do

I’ve learned an important lesson about not pushing my (limited) limits, and today is already the “someday we’ll laugh about this” day. Perhaps they’ll write me up in the newspaper for being the first person ever to suffer such a fate from a toddler dance class. At any rate, it’s quite the story! And now if you see me on crutches this week you’ll know where my battle wounds came from.

Tutu or not, I am a warrior!