Brian and I often remark to each other that our perception of time is changing during the quarantine. Intellectually, I know that several months have gone by since the schools closed down, but it still feels as if it just began.
In the meanwhile, the weeks seem to drag, with a serious case of fatigue that sets in on Wednesdays and Thursdays.
It’s likely that each of our days has such sameness, with little novelty, that our brains simply aren’t recording as many long-term memories anymore.
Having my right hand in a brace isn’t helping anything; I’m unable to create any kind of long-lasting work (such as writing) which makes my days even more free-form and floating than otherwise created by the pandemic.
I finally met with an orthopedist this past Wednesday, and it was dissatisfying. A pulled muscle, nothing more, and it would have resolved faster weeks ago if I’d known to use a brace and isolate my hand right at the beginning. (Parallels to the pandemic are not lost on me.) As it currently stands, I’m looking at using a brace for another 6-8 weeks. I’ll be lucky to play piano by the end of summer.
The one good outcome was a prescription for a tube for an anti-inflammatory gel (kinda like “super Ben-Gay”) and it’s done wonders for easing the pain. I have my first visit with a hand therapist this Tuesday.
In the meanwhile, we’re taking Eleanor out to lunch every day (it’s the only way we can get her to eat) and continuing with the Shakespeare 2020 project. There are so many arts organizations streaming live recordings of plays (Shakespeare or otherwise) that it’s actually kind of a treat. I’ve been able to see productions of plays that rarely get performed, like The Two Noble Kinsmen, which was adorable, or Timon of Athens, which is interesting to discuss and boring to read/watch (Timon is a reverse Scrooge, essentially). Eleanor has watched all of them with me, which is really fun. Yesterday we watched the Globe Theater’s production of The Winter’s Tale, and it was adorable.
I also took time to watch the National Theater’s production of A Streetcar Named Desire, (on my own, since it isn’t exactly kid-friendly) and found it electrifying.
We’ve also continued our musical-watching with Into the Woods, The Phantom of the Opera, Moulin Rouge, and Hairspray. I prefer to watch films of stage productions instead of film adaptations of musicals (with exceptions for musicals that were created as films, like Moulin Rouge.) I have no idea if this is something that Eleanor is excited about, but she shows up for them, and anything I can do to get her out of bed is a-okay with me.
We went on another stairway hike last week, through the Madrona/Leschi neighborhood. The gardens were beautiful and the views of the lake were gorgeous! Here’s what I wrote about it on Instagram:
We embarked on Seattle Stairway hike #2 yesterday, this time with the boys coming along for the adventure. Our itinerary took us through the Madrona and Leschi neighborhoods along the western shore of Lake Washington. Our “secret passage” stairways went through forests and between vine-covered gardens that felt just a teeny bit like something from an Indiana Jones movie. Best of all were the spectacular views of the lake, as well as the general good cheer of William and Jeff, who happily went up and down roughly 670 stairs over 1.7 miles. (Well, with the exception of one stairway that was so steep the boys nicknamed it “The Wall.”)
I was really sad that it rained hard yesterday and we couldn’t do another one. Hopefully next week the weather will be fine.
In other news, William was tasked with building a Rube Goldberg device for his engineering class. He made a contraption that turns off the overhead light in his room, something that I remember fantasizing about building in my own childhood bedroom. It took him about ten hours of building, testing and tinkering to find success. Now when Brian and I are reading in the evening, we’ll hear a thump-bump-clunk from the direction of William’s bedroom, and know that he’s switched off the lights and gone to sleep.
We also enjoyed a much-needed respite from the tyranny of homeschool on Memorial Day. Despite the damp weather, we went out to Hillwood Park for a game of cross-country bocce, then followed it up with a huge meal of barbecue ribs and baked beans, and a game of Codenames via a Shirtsfam zoom.
Only nineteen more days until this torturous school year is finally over!
Yup, I’m still typing all of this entirely with my left hand. Still sucks. Only ten more days until my appointment at the hand clinic.
But let’s not focus on that. To tell the truth, other than my hand pain and Eleanor’s ongoing depression/eating thing, my family’s situation is fairly ideal for weathering this storm. We’ve managed to do quite a few fun things since shelter-in-place began.
We’ve been on quite a few hikes and interesting walks. Thanks to my collection of hiking books, it’s easy to find trails that are less visited (research always wins the war).
Meadowdale Beach (during the very first week of lockdown, back in early March). The cold weather worked inour favor; there weren’t any people on the water. (Because they have better self-preservation instincts, I suppose)
Padilla Bay. Eleanor wasn’t feeling well, so I sat with her on a bench and watched birds.
Robe Canyon. I had done this hike years ago, when Katie was three. It was nice to do it with Brian this time. We got rained on (I slipped and fell in the mud twice, ugh) but that simply made our photos all the more colorful.
The kids have their ups and downs with homeschooling. Katie at one point spent a morning writing me a letter about how much she hates the Saxon Math program. I decided to count it as “language arts” and move on.
Katie and William did a lot of hands-on chemistry experiments with me, via a website called Mystery Science. We learned how to use old pennies and vinegar to coat steel nails with copper, among other things (this experiment failed, owing to me not using old enough pennies).
One of the more engaging activities for Eleanor was creating entries for the Edible Book Festival in early April. She made two entries, for “Griddle Women” and “The Chiliad,” and won both 1st and 2nd place in the “Most Punderful” category. Woo-hoo, $25 gift card to Third Place Books!
(Alas, I got no recognition for my entries, “Food the Obscured” and “The Count of Monte Crisco”)
Around that same time, I begin filming Primary Singing Time videos for the families in our ward. Friends and family on Facebook enjoy them, too. Katie and the other children sing with me, and it’s a lot of fun.
William finally finished cutting up the foam for his big bean bag chair. He and Jeff have moved into separate rooms, and it’s a great addition to his new space.
We made “Mormon Food” for General Conference, and had to borrow jello from church friends when I realized I had forgotten to put it on the shopping list.
Hot cross buns for Easter. I watched “Amazing Grace,” the Aretha Franklin music documentary, as well as the St. Matthew’s Passion, and made a most excellent carrot cake with pecan frosting. The girls sang “Gethsemane” for the week’s Singing Time video, and Brian hid an Easter basket in the oven and the attic crawlspace.
Eleanor turned fifteen, and I asked friends and family to send video birthday greetings, which I put together into a surprise montage for her. Kristen made her a coronavirus-shaped pinata, which she gleefully smashed with a stick. Flourless chocolate cake afterwards.
Then came SPRING BREAK!
We kicked things off with blanket tents for The Great Washington Camp In (sponsored by the state parks system) and perfected our homemade pizza recipe (overnight rise makes all the dough difference).
Brian and I made a trip down to Olympia for one last visit to The Back Door Bakery, which closed for good on 4/30. Our stimulus check from the government arrived ($83, ha) and we spent all of it on pie and cake and lunch from the Salvadorian place across the street.
Then came our DIY Disney at Home, to commemorate our now-indefinitely postponed trip to Disneyland. Each day was devoted to one of the different “lands” of the park. Here’s how I described them on Instagram:
Today was Fantasyland day, so we watched “Alice in Wonderland” and had a mad tea party. We attempted to bake replicas of the Matterhorn Macaroons you can get from the Jolly Holiday Bakery, but they spread out in the oven and became Polar Ice Cap Macaroons (they were delicious anyway). Later on we watched “Sleeping Beauty” and made mini fairy dolls and paper flower garlands (Katie is modeling the crown Eleanor made). The evening was rounded out with a few garage swordfighting duels. Best part of the day: sending my kids into impressed shock by reciting every single line of “Sleeping Beauty” along with the film.
Spring Break 2020, Day 3: Yee-haw! We saddled up for Frontierland today. After a belly-fillin’ breakfast of baked oatmeal, we spent the morning building our own version of the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. There was a lot of nostalgia in this for me; we haven’t played with the wooden train set in years, and I was pleased to see the teenagers get as absorbed into building and running the trains as the little kids. The afternoon was dedicated to tacos and a screening of “Maverick” (how have I never realized that the screenplay was by William Goldman??). Finally, for dinner we had a hot dog and s’mores cookout, for which Katie has been begging for weeks. Plus, it gave me an excuse to make my mom’s baked beans, which are the best even if they take three hours to make.
(I found youtube videos with full versions of the music that is played over the loudspeakers at Disneyland, and we all agree that the Frontierland one is the best. Great country-western classics!)
Spring Break 2020, Day 4: We had a tropical trip to Adventureland today! Everyone was excited to try out the package of authentic Dole Whip soft serve mix that Eleanor got for her birthday. We froze it in our ice cream maker, and whoa: it tasted just like the real thing. Besides the sugar rush, we had a fun morning playing the Island games on Wii Party U, and watched “Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle,” which none of us had seen and proved to be a fun surprise.
Spring Break 2020, Day 5: Beep-boop, we celebrated all things robot-y and science fiction-y with our tribute to Tomorrowland! Brian started us off with a family Lego Masters competition. Challenge #1 involved creating towers with a limited selection of bricks — and they had to support the weight of a baseball. Challenge #2 was about creating a battle scene between two minifigs (can you tell which one William made?). After a break from “Pizza Planet” (aka Little Caesar’s) we settled down to watch “Flight of the Navigator,” which was great, although I now regret missing the chance to show my kids the epic pile of bananas that is “Space Camp.” After all that, the future took a backseat to the past as we celebrated Shakespeare’s birthday with delicious “gingerbard” cookies. Aren’t they adorable?
(Not pictured: Katie’s epic meltdown during the Legomaster competition. Poor girl! She really misses school.)
Spring Break 2020, Day 6: our indefinitely- delayed trip to California also included a visit to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, so we decided to spend a day doing all things Hogwarts, with each of us taking turns teaching a class. William hid stuffed animals around the house for Care of Magical Creatures, which we then used for a blanket-toss game (this was a huge hit). Eleanor showed us how to make fizzy love juice in Potions, and Katie taught how to turn poisonous plants (asparagus) edible in Herbology. Lastly, I taught Transfiguration and we turned origami paper into Golden Snitches. After a lunch of burgers & butterbeer, we settled in for a screening of the first Harry Potter movie, which we hadn’t watched in years (during which I predictably fell asleep 🙄). Whew, throwing my kids five themed parties in a row has been a lot of fun, but also a lot of work. I hope they remember the good times during a period in which so much seemed so scary.
(FYI, the potions tasted totally gross)
Our last day of spring break was spent on a drive to the Skagit Valley to sort-of see tulip fields and get cookies from Breadfarm. Eleanor actually came along for this, which was a big deal.
Spring was well and truly sprung after the break. The school district started providing a more robust online school program. Katie and William discovered a meadowy daisy patch next to the water towers in our neighborhood.
During the first week of May, the seniors at the high school got their caps and gowns, and some parents organized a loosely organized parade to celebrate them. The grads put on their newly acquired caps and gowns and stood (6 ft. apart) near their local elementary or middle school. Then a caravan of 50+ decorated cars drove past all of them along a designated route. It was such a blast — lots of sign waving and horn honking. Jeff and I blasted the school fight song whenever we passed another group of kids. Jeff was especially happy to have a chance to say goodbye to all his senior friends. Probably one of the most uplifting things I’ve done so far.
We also observed May the Fourth, aka Star Wars Day. After hurrying through our schoolwork, we ordered Chinese take-out for Orange Mandolorian Chicken, Brocco-Leia Beef, Kung Poe Chicken, Won Taun-Tauns, and Fortune Wookies. Then we cozied up for a screening of “The Last Jedi” (because my kids love porgs) and finished the evening with lightsaber duels and blue milk with whipped-strawberry topping.
Is that a tiny fairy door on my cardigan? Yes.
For most of the pandemic, we’ve been holding weekly contests with Brian’s family. Whoever wins gets to choose and judge the next week’s competition. Caitlin challenged us all to make historical-figure costumes out of household objects. Kathryn then instigated a book-spine poetry contest. Peter’s contest was to create fairy doors with a variety of materials and locations (Kristen made a stunning patchwork fabric one; Brian made an origami one; William’s had two doorknobs because fairies.) Anderson was the winner, however, and he started a house-building contest.
Although Eleanor tried her hardest to pander to Anderson’s tastes with a Disney house, the winner was Katie and William’s fairy castle. Which led us to this week’s crazy dance contest.
Mother’s Day weekend came and went. Brian and I spent Saturday doing the Fremont hike in “Seattle Stairway Walks.” Following the trail guide is part hike, part treasure map as we went up and down about a dozen public stairways hidden between houses and leafy alleyways. There were so many beautiful gardens! Fremont is especially fun because there is a lot of public art created by neighborhood residents, from an inspirational poem posted at the bottom of a stairway, to a mirror on a street sign labeled “You’re Brilliant!,” to a little bench next to a telephone pole labeled “Accidental Park.” (A play on the name of Seattle’s Occidental Park.)
Brian then spent the rest of the day on my present: cleaning up our overgrown rose garden and installing a new birdbath. I love it SO SO much!
On Mother’s Day proper, Katie knocked on my bedroom door. “Mom, are you still in your pajamas?” No, I had already showered and dressed. “But Mom,” she wailed, “you have to still be in bed, or it ruins the magic!” Very well, then. If that is what it takes to get breakfast.
I also made the Cherry Shortcake Bars from Midwest Made, because it seems like springtimey “mom-food,” and the kids cooked sushi for dinner.
I only gave this post that title because it sounds like the name of a terrible martial arts epic.
But in truth, my right hand is well and truly busted. I did …. something to it while I was learning a Rachmaninoff prelude during January and February. By the time we went to Mexico, the big joint on my middle finger hurt and could not close into a fist. The injury had happened so gradually, I didn’t even realize it was happening.
I had a strong suspicion as to what caused it — the fast, free-form section of the Rach. I decide to stop playing that one section.
It did not help. I began to wake up at night, my finger aching.
I have to tell my teacher, Jensina, that I should probably stop the Rach altogether. We are both very upset. So much work for nothing.
The quarter ends, the pandemic begins. I’ll take a break from piano between quarters, I think. No practicing, no advanced repertoire at all. Just easy stuff, church music on weekends. I can do this for a week or two.
It does not help. Suddenly all church meetings are cancelled. I order a finger splint off Amazon. It made the joint ache more, pulled into a stiff, unnatural position. I put the splint away.
Rest, rest. Surely this will all end soon. The kids are home from school. I begin a new knitting project to relax; in the middle of a row, my hand suddenly cramps and seizes up. No more knitting, then. Very little piano. A few hymns on Sunday. But even this causes the tendons to ache, that buzzy pain that feels like a touched nerve.
I begin to Google “left hand piano repertoire.” It leads to a lot of boring waltzes.
I talk to Jensina on the phone. She thinks I should rest the hand until at least April 15 — six weeks! She also recommends a Scriabin etude that can be played with left hand only. I begin to learn it, my right hand curled uselessly in my lap, like a bird that flew into a glass window and stunned itself.
All the stores are closed. During General Conference, I attempt to take notes, writing by hand in a notebook, and a dull ache takes over, shooting pain up to my elbow. I bury my hand in ice. More rest. Rest. Can’t go to the doctor now, I’ll get sick. Brian begins working from home. I order special little ice packs that can Velcro around my fingers.
A week later, we take a drive to a favorite bakery, and when I go to write the check, sharp shooting pains run down my fingers. I flinch and try not to show any discomfort as I quickly sign the check and pass it through the window to a cashier sitting behind a pane of protective Plexiglass. We are all wearing masks.
No more handwriting, then. How will I do my music theory homework?
First Zoom lesson with Jensina. The Scriabin is coming together. What a great opportunity — every pianist wants to be ambidextrous! Have I tried taping my fingers together? I buy reams of medical tape.
Eleanor, depressed from the school closures and cancellations, begins to refuse food, staying in her room during breakfast and lunch.
Some time later, the same sharp pain occurs when I type. When I scratch my leg. When I casually flick my fingers over a touchpad.
My right hand should do nothing, then. No music, no writing, no knitting, no art. No kneading bread or pruning roses. My right hand is quarantined.
Brian offers to be my scribe for music theory but I find this impossible and write it myself anyway. More ice. Brian researches tendonitis and discovers that ibuprofin inhibits collagen repair. No more painkillers. I buy a big bottle of collagen supplements and swallow them down, one horse-choking pill at a time.
Eleanor does not eat for three days straight. I make panicked calls to the pediatrician and set up appointments with a therapist and a nutritionist.
I also, finally, set up a telehealth appointment for me.
“What was the piece that hurt your hand, anyway?” my PCP asks.
“A Rachmaninoff prelude,” I reply. Her eyes widen. At least the one saving grace in all this is that it at least sounds impressive.
She sent me off with a referral for a hand specialist. I make the call right away.
I need to wait three weeks until my appointment.
The left-hand Scriabin is joined by a left-hand Gliere and a left-hand Czerny. I’m playing full-throated music with only my left hand. My family says they wouldn’t be able to tell if they didn’t already know. William hums quietly along while he does his homeschool assignments. But the music doesn’t satisfy me. It feels like a parlor trick. Not art.
I miss my repertoire. Playing inspirational music on Sunday. Church hymns on the organ. Jazz standards after dinner in the evening. Disney and showtunes for my kids to sing along with. Choral pieces with Brian.
A few weeks ago, I accidentally flipped my music bag open, revealing the Hayden and Bach and Chopin that used to be my meat and bread. How big my sounds were, how tender and passionate. I immediately remembered playing these pieces in the college practice rooms, in my teacher’s office, on the baby grand in the performance space. Impossibilities. All of it. It felt like a bag of ghosts had fallen into my arms. And truly, isn’t that what music from 200 years ago is, anyway? Something gone, that doesn’t exist until we think about it, from a time long, long ago. And also from the time of Before. And there’s no point in running your tired, overwashed, taped-up fingers over the things you simply cannot have.
I slowly put the music back and zip the bag firmly closed.
Almost every night, Eleanor asks me to “tuck her in,” aka sit on her bed and talk with her. It’s something I enjoy. But my heart sinks whenever she repeats the question: “So what do we have planned for tomorrow?”
I don’t know what she’s expecting me to say. I suggest a few fun ideas, but none of them entice her. I’m not a cruise director. Eleanor turns her face to the wall.
We’ve snuggled tight into our little routine, here. In the morning, I expect the kids to meet me around the kitchen table by at least 9:00 a.m. for “scripture power” time. (9:00 a.m. may seem like a late wake-up call to you, but it’s a challenge for the teenagers.)
After scripture power, everyone goes their separate ways for homeschool. I supervise William and Katie on their schoolwork while I practice piano (I’ve found some left-hand etudes by Bach, Saint-Saens, and Scriabin to work on while my right hand heals). Usually the littles manage to finish almost all their schoolwork before lunchtime, which is how most homeschool curricula is supposed to go (only 2-3 hours a day).
Meanwhile, Jeff pesters me for internet access, which I deny him until he’s done all his “analog” tasks, such as read for an hour, practice his piano assignment, work on the math assignment Brian gave him, and go for a walk. He’s … okay at doing all of these, and then spends the afternoon doing “homework,” which is whatever his teachers are emailing him. It’s almost impossible to know how much of this homework he’s actually doing.
And where is Eleanor during the morning hours? Usually back in bed. Most days, I usually haul her out of bed around noon, which is when we drive to the school for lunch. The school district runs a drive-through lunch program for ages 18 and under, and it’s a great excuse for getting out of the house.
Is it progress that Eleanor is at least coming with us to lunch? Last week she refused.
Afternoons are spent finishing up any remaining homeschool: reading our history chapter aloud, doing hands-on science experiments, playing outside, building with LEGO, etc. Eleanor spends her afternoons in her room, working on the math assignments Brian gives her. Jeff often takes advantage of my distracted state to vanish upstairs with a computer.
One would think I’d spend this afternoon block to get some writing done, but it’s hard. Having all the kids around is sucking the energy out of me. Interruptions happen about every 15-20 minutes. It’s difficult to focus on anything knowing that my teenage daughter is dissolving into the bedsheets down the hall.
A few times I’ve gotten up early to write before the kids wake, but when faced with that quiet space to myself, I found that all I wanted to do was nothing. “Pure nothing, in the middle of the day,” like the line from the Rita Dove poem.
Besides, most of my early morning hours are already devoted to my own sanity-saving exercise routine.
I don’t even want to think how things are going to shift when my music theory class resumes in another week.
Yet my brain can’t let go of writing: it is constantly, constantly working on the novel in the background, formulating scenes, plot points, reams of dialogue, descriptive paragraphs, character arcs. After a few days, I feel pent up and congested inside, and panicked that I’ll never get around to finishing the project.
So to state that I’m feeling frustrated with myself is an understatement. Am I really too busy for this? Or am I using my kids as an excuse?
Around 3:30 p.m. we still gather for kuchenzeit. This week in Panic Baking: Caramel Apple Dapple Cake (not as good as my mom’s apple cake), Wednesday Night Brownies (of course), Chocolate Chip Cookie Brittle (similar but vastly improved version of a recipe I already have) and Next Level Krispy Treats (they have double the butter and 4 ounces of white chocolate).
Brian’s been returning home from the hospital at odd early times, which can be frustrating, especially if he has more office work to do at home: I get all excited about having another adult to take a turn with the child labor, only to hear that I’m not getting a break after all.
On Friday, Brian worked entirely from home. I asked him to create his office space on the third floor, where I won’t be able to hear him. It’s disheartening to be constantly reminded that he’s able to accomplish his adult intellectual work when I cannot. I don’t blame him; this is the arrangement and partnership that we knew would work best for our family. And I’m kind of relieved that it’s possible for him to be home instead of going into the hospital, where he’s at risk for getting sick. But still — stay away where I can’t hear you, Other Adult.
Worst of all, because the kids don’t have any early-morning wake-up times, then bedtime tends to slide later and later into the evening. More nights than I’d prefer, the kids aren’t in bed until ten or ten-thirty, all of them needy for their mom, for the kind of stability I can provide them, since their lives are all upside-down. And I love that I can do that for them, and I love how our relationships are all deepening and improving as a result.
BUT — I am going a little crazy without having much alone time these days. I love my big boisterous family, but I’m someone who has always thrived on having “the gift of solitude” to recharge. Last night, a reasonable 8pm start time for the bedtime routine was upended by a Harry Potter board game. None of the children went to sleep until 11p.m. I tried to close myself up in my room with a book, but children kept popping in. It was great to get those extra cuddle times (Jeff came and talked to me! Voluntarily!) but afterwards I felt ragged, and furious.
The teenagers are starting to feel the negative results of their messed-up sleep schedules and sedentary lifestyle. Eleanor and Jeff complain that they are restless in bed and unable to sleep until one or two in the morning. Jeff seems amenable to making the lifestyle changes required to fix this, but Eleanor shuts down whenever I bring up the solution of basic exercise and earlier wake-up times, retreating into her shell of “I’m fine” and a quelling glare.
Last night was a breakthrough — Eleanor said she would like to spend some time walking on the treadmill, but when would she have the time? I pointed out that she might have to spend less time in bed in the morning, only to be burned alive with the Quelling Glare once more.
Ugh, the worst is knowing that I likely would have behaved in the exact same way at her age. What does it say that your mini teenage clone-self is occasionally intolerable?
“Granolavirus” is apparently what Eleanor and her friends were calling COVID-19 outbreak before everything got turned upside down.
William’s social studies teacher sent out an email encouraging all his students to keep a diary of this odd, uncertain time. The idea went over like a lead balloon with the kids, but reminded me that I really out to come out of hiatus for this one.
THE STATS SO FAR
Days since schools closed: 10 (although it feels much longer)
Episodes of Panic Baking: 3 (all from the Midwest Made: Big Bold Baking from the Heartland). I tell myself that I’m doing this so the kids and I can enjoy “kuchenziet” (aka German teatime, but literally translated as “cake time” which I think we can all agree is superior). I’ve made the “Donut Loaf,” (which also describes my current lifestyle), “Wednesday Night Brownies” (which I am totally making every Wednesday from now on) and “Potato Chip-Chip Shortbread,” (which are made with potato chips and chocolate chips, and were the kids’ favorite so far)
Days Eleanor Spent in Bed Not Talking to Anybody: 3. With bonus Refusing to Eat or Bathe or Go to Bed at a Reasonable Time Action!
Yes, it was kind of scary with Eleanor for a while. She took it very hard when everything in her life got cancelled. School musical, robotics competition, choir concerts, our family’s Disneyland trip — poof. Gone. I’ve been doing my best to not freak out on her and be gentle, but it’s hard. She still occasionally regresses and becomes Surly Silent Girl who insists that she’s “fine.”
[insert beleaguered sigh here]
Homeschool Charts Getting Checked Off: 2. William is the most checklist-oriented person I’ve ever met, and Katie generally follows his lead. Fortunately, I still have our stash of homeschool workbooks left over from when I was tutoring Jeff in math and writing — enough for both Wim and Katie. “History” time is when I read a chapter out loud from The Story of the World, and twice a week we do a hands-on science experiment. It’s fun, although I fear the honeymoon will be over soon.
Homeschool Charts Getting Kinda Checked Off: 1. Getting Jeff to do anything besides watch YouTube is an uphill battle. He’s doing some math … ish, and reading books … ish.
Homeschool Charts Being Pointedly Ignored: 1 (See Eleanor’s Couch of Despair, above). Eleanor declared that “she wants to learn Latin,” so her “homeschool” is endless Latin language games on Duolingo. Things began to improve when her Geometry textbook arrived in the mail. She now spends a few hours a day taking meticulous notes in a math notebook and solving the problem sets Brian picks out for her. For the first few days, she also refused to read anything (I had to go do some Panic Baking in response) but now I’ve got her hooked on The Wee Free Men. That’ll have to do for the humanities.
Fights Over Internet Access: too many to account for
Nights We’ve Been Woken By Jeff Walking Around the House at 1:00am: 2 (Which, admittedly, sounds like something I’d do at age seventeen, but HONESTLY)
Things I Can’t Do Right Now: Practice piano, knit, or type for more than few minutes. This is because I’ve given myself a repetitive-stress injury with the Rachmaninoff prelude I spent all of last quarter working through. (It’s such a beautiful piece of music! I am heartbroken that I cannot continue mastering it!)
Having all my stress-relief activities taken away at the onset of this crisis is doing nobody any favors. I ordered a finger splint from Amazon.com, and it arrived on Friday night, and it seems to be helping (it allows me to knit a little, too).
And yep — my hand is aching right now, so it looks like I’ve hit my limit. Sigh. Tune in for more granolavirus updates in the future …
To you, 2019 may feel like super-old yesterday’s news, but for my brain and eyes, it’s still very much happening. Which is my roundabout way of saying that I’ve spent the last three weeks cramming my To Be Read pile with as many of the lauded and buzz-worthy books from 2019, all in pursuit of my definitely comprehensive (ha, that is impossible) and definitely unbiased (also impossible) list of Favorite Reads for Young people.
Tomorrow the Youth Media Awards are announced at 8am EST (which means a 5am wake up call for me, yaaaaaay) and we’ll see if all my cramming has lead to a triumphant fist-pumping round of “I knew it!” or a shameful head-shaking “never heard of that one” or an even worse “uggggh, what was the committee thinking with that one?!?” Only time shall tell!
Again, the standard caveats:
I can’t put every “good” book on this list because it would be a million miles long(er). Also, not every book here is for you. Like most librarians, I like to read pretty much every genre of literature so it’s all in the mix.
I don’t read a lot of YA novels, so that category is skimpy (although I do include other YA books in nonfiction, poetry, graphic novels, etc.)
Books with troubling, dark, or mature content get a double asterisk (**). Parents might want to take a gander first if they have sensitive kids.
Featuring the World’s Trippiest Shopping Trip: ¡Vamos! Let’s Go to the Market! by Raúl the Third
Best Father-Daughter Book: My Papi Has a Motorcycle by Isabel Quintero, illus. Zeke Peña
Holy Cow, a Celebrity Finally Wrote a Decent Picture Book (and it’s lovely!): The Proudest Blue by Muhammad, Ibtihaj with S.K. Ali, illus. Aly, Hatem
Best Book About Cooking (as opposed to a cookbook, which is, y’know, different): Fry Bread by Kevin Noble Maillard, illus. Juana Martinez-Neal
Somehow it’s about nature, perspective, history, and ecology all at the SAME TIME: A Stone Sat Still by Brendan Wenzel
Funniest, Sweetest Book About Death in a Long While: The End of Something Wonderful: A Practical Guide to a Backyard Funeral by Stephanie V. W. Lucianovic; illus. George Ermos
So Weird, but Made Me Laugh SO Hard: Mr. Nogginbody Gets a Hammer by David Shannon
I Think We All Feel This Way From Time to Time: The Very Impatient Caterpillar by Ross Burach
FINALLY, a Good Picture Book about Gender Identity: When Aidan Became a Brother by Kyle Lukoff, illus. Kaylani Juanita
I Know this book is basically pandering to Librarians but I Don’t Care: How to Read a Book by Kwame Alexander, illus. Melissa Sweet
Best Seasonal Holiday Book: The Shortest Day by Susan Cooper, illus. Carson Ellis
I suppose you could call this a Valentine Book, but it’s really about selfless giving in all times and places: What Is Given From the Heart by Patricia C. McKissack, illus. April Harrison
If You Don’t This is Fundamentally Funny, You Shouldn’t Be Around Kids: Who Wet My Pants? by Bob Shea, illus. Zachariah O’Hora
In Which We Remeber How Beautiful This Country Is: You Are Home: An Ode to the National Parks by Evan Turk
Snuggly Wuggly Critters, Oh My! Bear Came Along by Richard T. Morris, illus. LeUyen Pham
Best Family History (also Katie’s personal favorite of 2019): Home in the Woods by Eliza Wheeler
The Title Says Everything: Llama Destroys the World by Jonathan Stutzman, illus. Heather Fox
Best (Living) Pet Story: Truman by Jean Reidy, illus. Lucy Ruth Cummins
Best Bedtime Book: Just Because by Mac Barnett, illus. Isabelle Arsenault
Probably the Funniest Book on Here if it weren’t for that odd Nogginbody Book: The Happy Book by Andy Rash
Best Interactive Book [slaps page]: High Five! by Adam Rubin, illus. Daniel Salmieri
In Which the Elephant & Piggie Reads Series Gets Metafictional: Harold & Hog Pretend for Real! by Dan Santat
Cynthia Rylant Proves Once Again That She’s A Master of This Genre: Motor Mouse by Cynthia Rylant, illus. Arthur Howard
Just Cannot Get Enough of This Series: Noodleheads Fortress of Doom by Tedd Arnold, Martha Hamilton and Mitch Weiss; illus. Tedd Arnold
**Best Breakup With the Toxic Relationship Story: Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up With Me by Mariko Tamaki
Probably The Best Overall Children’s Book of 2019: New Kid by Jerry Craft
Best Historical(ish) Fiction of 2019: Queen of the Sea by Dylan Meconis
Best Friendship Story: Stargazing by Jen Wang
Being Popular Ain’t as Easy as it Appears: Best Friends by Shannon Hale, illus. LeUyen Pham
How? How Does EVERY Part of this Series Manage to Be SO GOOD? Major Impossible by Nathan Hale
NONFICTION & POETRY
Okay, first off — you should know that kids today are SO lucky that we happen to be living in this stunning Golden Age of nonfiction for young readers. Which means that if I could, this would be the longest category with so many titles your eyeballs would pop out of their sockets and go “a-woo-ga!” OBVIOUSLY, I’m not going to torture you all that way, but in case you want more, go see librarian-blogger Betsy Bird’s list of nonfiction picture books. Pretty much everything that’s there should be here, too.
**Best Memoir-in-Verse (well, best memoir overall, really):Shout by Laurie Halse Anderson
Most Powerful Picture Book/Poetry of 2019:The Undefeated by Kwame Alexander; illus. Kadir Nelson
Cutest Poetry Anthology of 2019 (it’s here pretty much because William loves it): The Proper Way to Meet a Hedgehog by Paul B. Janeczko (ed.), illustrated Richard Jones
Most Awwwww-inducing Picture Book Biography:The Important Thing about Margaret Wise Brown by Mac Barnett
One of My Favorite Childhood Illustrators Gets a Biography — and her life was FRIGGING AMAZING: It Began With a Page: How Gyo Fujikawa Drew the Way by Kyo Maclear, illus. Julie Morstad
Greek Myth Cartoons are the bomb: I Am Hermes! Mischief-Making Messenger of the Gods by Mordicai Gerstein
You Probably Didn’t Realize You Needed a Recommendation for a Book About Crocodiles, But Believe Me, You Do: Beware of the Crocodile by Martin Jenkins, illus. Satoshi Kitamura
Stunning-est Nature Photography: Bloom Boom! by April Pulley Sayre
**Holy COW this story is fascinating and SO well written and researched: The Miracle & Tragedy of the Dionne Quintuplets by Sarah Miller
Most Tummy-Rumbling Food Origin Story:Magic Ramen: the Story of Momofuku Ando by Andrea Wang; illus. Kana Urbanowicz
MIDDLE GRADE FICTION
I just barely started it and haven’t finished but I’m putting it on here anyway because it’s just that good: Look Both Ways by Jason Reynolds
Best Immigration Story: Other Words for Home by Jasmine Warga
Why Hello there, 21st Century Update of the Mary Poppins Story: Pay Attention, Carter Jones by Gary D. Schmidt
I’ve got a serious soft spot for novels about kids with autism-spectrum disorder:Because of the Rabbit by Cynthia Lord
I’M NOT CRYING, YOU’RE CRYING: Beverly, Right Here by Kate DiCamillo
Basically “The Good Place” crossed with “The Giver”:Eventown by Kate McGovern
A standard middle grade friendship drama story intersects with the Black Lives Matter movement — and somehow it works:A Good Kind of Trouble by Lisa Moore Ramée
Probably My Personal Favorite Book of 2019: Scary Stories for Young Foxes by Christian Heidicker
ALSO: I’d like to put in a collective shout-out for the “Rick Riordan Presents” editorial imprint, which is producing Percy Jackson-ish novels about world mythology, written by authors from that culture. They are all selling like hotcakes and getting all the starred reviews BUUUUUUT because of this, I haven’t been able to get my hands on any of them (darn you, long library waitlists!). But if you’ve a notion (and a good sense of delayed gratification) go check out Tristan Strong Punches a Hole in the Sky by Kwame Mbalia; Dragon Pearl by Yoon Ha Lee; Sal and Gabi Break the Universe by Carlos Hernandez; and Aru Shah and the End of Time by Roshani Choksi
The One Your Teen Has Probably Already Read:On the Come Up by Angie Thomas
My Personal Favorite of 2019: Lovely War by Julie Berry
Most Delicious and Heart-wrenching Novel of the Year: With the Fire on High by Elizabeth Acevedo
Best Conclusion to a Trilogy: The Wicked King and The Queen of Nothing by Holly Black
I Know it’s 100% Channeling “Howl’s Moving Castle,” but DANGIT I LOVED IT ANYWAY: Sorcery of Thorns by Margaret Rogerson
We had some of our Pittsburgh friends visit us this fall, a delightful surprise!
Eric and Abby were among the friends we reconnected with during our trip to Boston this spring, so it was lovely to continue that rekindling with a second visit. (Funny to not see each other for a decade, and then twice in one year! How very much our families have changed…)
Eric’s request was to see as much of the outdoors as possible, so we spent one day trekking up to Deception Pass State Park. The kids had a lot of fun climbing on all the boulders, but we also saw an incredible selection of wildlife. This was the first time I ever saw porpoises in Puget Sound — most likely a group of them. William recognized them by the dorsal fins (I initially assumed they were harbor seals — there were seals in the bay as well).
Day 2 of the visit was spent traveling out to Snoqualmie Falls. It was a great hike down to the bottom of the waterfall — until we found that the bottom of the trail was closed off for the winter. Bummer! At least we got to see the top of the falls. And the hike is always rather lovely.
This time of year is also our annual plunge into Academic Conference Season. We were a bit lucky this season — only three conferences, and they all finished up before Brian’s birthday! I made him a British style gingerbread cake (unlike the American kind, it has no molasses, and more citrus flavor). The cookbook said it could be baked in a 9″ round pan, but it overflowed in the oven. So much for that.
A friend suggested that it’s a metaphor for Brian’s life: overflowing with sweetness. Aww.
Other small adventures: we took the kids skating on Veteran’s Day (something of a tradition, since the local rink often has free skating that day).
It’s also Fall Theater Season for Jeff at the high school (doing lights for a British farce called “One Man Two Guvnors”) and the elementary school (Katie was in the chorus of a production of “The Lion King Jr.”).
The carpooling levels have been extremely high as a result, and I’m soooooo happy it’s over. Waiting for your high school student to come home from cast parties multiple nights in a row is no fun. (Not that I get grumpy when I’m sleep deprived or anything …)
Jeff is very happy to have found his tribe with the Thespian Society. Silly goings-on all around.
The theater kids have a habit of going to WinCo after performances and buying large quantities of random things from the bulk food section. In the past, Jeff came home with pounds of peach gummy rings, but this year he came home with 10 lbs. of flour.
“Great!” said Brian. “Jeff and I can bake bread, and he can take it to the next performance to share with the rest of the cast and crew!”
This went over enthusiastically well, as you can imagine. The teenagers devoured every speck of that bread.
WELL — cue Jeff coming home from the next performance with twenty two pounds of flour.
[cue scene from Anne of Green Gables when Marilla sees Matthew haul in 22 lbs. of brown sugar and rolls her eyes forever]
Brian and Jeff hatched a scheme to bake the largest loaves of bread possible in our standard-sized oven. I’m sorry I didn’t get a picture of the result, but each loaf was about three feet long and 1 1/2 feet wide. Like the Baguettes That Time Forgot.
That was yesterday; today we’re still making/baking bread. Our flour tubs in the pantry are still full to the brim. Geez.
Katie loved being in “The Lion King.” Initially, she was slated to be the back half of a hippo in the animal chorus (which she wasn’t too pleased about because she thought the other kids were laughing at her). At the last minute she got switched to being a rhino, so happiness was restored.
I’m just happy it’s over and I don’t have to chaperone any more rehearsals. Those suckers were brutal. They wanted the kids to be absolutely silent offstage, which is an exhausting task. I shushed so often that I began to hyperventilate.
Theater season is over! Onwards to music performance season!
(And in case you’re wondering why Eleanor wasn’t in the crazy theater mix — she wanted to. But there were hardly any parts in the high school play . . . and then 65 kids signed up to do tech crew when they only needed 25. So she couldn’t even do that.
Later she signed up to simply pass out programs as an usher, but it turns out that 70 kids signed up for that, too. She ended up being freaking grateful to pass out programs ONE time for ONE performance. (They had to make a spreadsheet to ensure that as many kids got to have usher duties as possible. Usher duties!!!)
Apparently the 9th graders are over enthusiastic like this about everything. As Eleanor puts it “I kind hate the freshman class right now.”
Sometime this summer Katie decided that she wanted to be a chimney sweep for Halloween.
I admit to being taken a little off guard by this request. Was she absolutely sure she didn’t want to be a witch or a fairy or a pirate?
“No, I like being a chimneysweep because it something both boys and girls can be.”
Okay, fair enough. And with a wave of my Amazon wand, we procured a newsboy cap and a bristle brush-thing, and — hey! Why not get everyone in the family to be Mary Poppins characters?
Eleanor could be Mary, William still had his penguin costume from a few years ago, and Brian and I could be Mr. and Mrs. Banks!
Alas, we could not convince Jeff to join in and be Bert. Instead, he wanted to be Jeff Goldblum’s character from “Jurassic Park.” (It’s a meme. Just go with it.)
While I was slightly disappointed, you have to admit that Jeff pulled off the studly Ian rather well:
Meanwhile, the rest of us were all ready to go with our Jolly Holiday at the ward Halloween party . . . and then Eleanor was invited to hang out with her friend that night. So this was our group costume: Mary Poppins sans Mary.
A lot of people thought Brian was supposed to be Charlie Chaplin. (Kudos to Mr. Chaplin, I guess, for staying culturally relevant in 2019.) I was assumed to just be A Suffragette, which I’m totally fine with (I looked nothing like Glynis John’s character at all).
We did convince Eleanor to make an appearance as Mary for the Halloween piano recital.
On Halloween proper, William decided to wear his Totoro costume from last year, since the penguin suit was a little on the small side. So much for thematic coherence.
Eleanor went trick-or-treating with friends this year, and Brian took everyone else around the neighborhood. I stayed home and got some knitting done while watching “Hocus Pocus.” (It was freezing outside, okay?)
William came home with a collective 10.5 lbs. of candy. Which is patently nuts.
Katie decided to walk through a mini “spook alley” made by a family in the neighborhood, and came home rather spooked indeed.
Brian, on the other hand, kept himself entertained by sending me pictures of fake spider decorations he saw while walking around (a reference to a Jenny Nicholson YouTube video that’s all about funny online reviews of fake spider decorations). So I’d get a text with a black fuzzy blob in the middle of some fake spider webs, with the message “adequate enough for a spider.”
Sums up Halloween for me!
(Oh, yeah and we carved pumpkins. William made a fox, Jeff a stormtrooper, Katie a kitty, and Eleanor made a rather amazing Cinderella coach. Brian also went to the elementary school pumpkin carving night and gathered 4 gallons of pumpkin seeds for roasting, so we had a super-abundance of seeds this year. Hoooo boy.)
But we’ve had a few fun autumnal adventures the past several days.
First off was a trip to BrickCon, the LEGO conference that happens in Seattle every fall. It’s been about five years or so since we took our children. When I realized that none of the kids remembered anything about our previous visit, I decided it was time to go again.
I’m still on the fence a bit about whether or not it was worth it.
I mean, the builds were cool. Incredible creativity going on here — although I admit there were no giant showstoppers like the Hogwarts Castle and Rivendell builds we saw previously (each one was roughly the size of a minivan).
And it was also very, very crowded. My kids could hardly see any of the exhibits because there were so many people shuffling by the tables. Katie got overwhelmed, so I took her upstairs to the children’s area while Brian continued to look at builds with the big kids.
There were several tables where kids could simply build and play. This cheered Katie right up. (And I got to read a book while she worked! Win-win!)
The following week, we got a lovely visit from the Shirts grandparents. Randy and Kathryn recently returned home after serving as missionaries in North Carolina. It had been over a year since the kids had seen them. Predictably, we spent the entire week pointing out in minute detail all the ways the children changed and grew during that year.
Regrettably, because of my music theory class, I couldn’t tour them around the city. So we just went out to lunch every afternoon instead. It was nice to have an excuse to visit one of Kathryn’s favorite haunts, the Scandinavian Specialties cafe in Ballard.
Best of all, on Friday we went to visit Kristen at her new job as the . . . .okay, I’ve forgotten the official title, but she’s like the Cutting Room Manager or something at a small local apparel company called Crescent Down Works. They make beautiful bespoke down-filled snow parkas. (We even got to go into the down-stuffing room and put our hands in a box of down! Which was even more insanely soft than I expected!)
On Friday night, we had a special treat: a members-only preview of the new Burke Museum of Natural History. I’ve been excited to see this new exhibit space. The overall focus is on “transparency” — that is, they have lots of glass walls and doors so museum visitors can see what projects all the scientists and archaeologists are working on.
Jeff asked great questions and we had some interesting conversations about how to tell when ancient animal bones were eaten by humans instead of other animals. (The secret: humans are the only animals who twist bones to break them.)
The following day we had even more fun with a trip to a pumpkin patch for some autumnal delights. Kathryn and I spent probably far more time than was necessary researching pumpkin patches and farms and chose to go to the Jubilee Farm.
We had hot cider, and a hay bale ride out to the pumpkin field.
Everyone picked a pumpkin, which in retrospect may not have been the wisest idea (we are now the proud owners of 70+ pounds of pumpkins).
We also watched the farm launch a pumpkin trebuchet:
Ran around a hay bale maze in the barn:
Saw some sheep (not pictured, but William found them “so adorable” that he immediately began to quietly hum “Baa Baa Black Sheep” Dang, I hope that kid never grows up).
We also helped grind some apples for cider:
Eleanor found a dahlia garden (which is one of her favorite flowers, which I did not know):
Then, while the big kids went to watch Trebuchet Launch #2, I stood with Katie to wait for a pony ride. Awww.
The grandparents went home on the same day that Brian left for the annual ASHG conference. In other words, we switched overnight from Family Fun Time to Lonely Time, and that was kind of a bummer.
I kept my cool by making sure we had lots of freezer meals ready to go, by skipping Katie’s evening swim classes for the week (it was the end of class anyway) and in general trying to keep things perky. But I admit I was exhausted as usual by the end of the week.
In the meantime, all three big kids went to the homecoming assembly at the high school (William was there because he’s part of the student government at the middle school), Jeff went to his first Homecoming football game (they lost), Eleanor went on her first backpacking trip (skipping the homecoming dance to do so):
. . . and William went to his first opera. (Rossini’s “La Cenerentola,” aka Cinderella, which he found fast-paced, engaging, and really fun.)
But Brian’s back again, hooray! SO GLAD HE’S HOME.
Have we created a monster? The high school cheerleading squad hosted a “Junior Cheer Clinic” for elementary school kids as a fundraiser, and Katie really wanted to go, so ….. this happened:
Little did we know that she would then be invited to perform in the halftime show at the following Friday night football game. Which meant, for the first time in my life ever, I attended a high school football game.
Or at least part of one. Eleanor came with me, and it was fun to hang out and chat and eat popcorn and Red Vines while watching the spectacle of it all. (Brian and the boys were at a Scout camping trip at Ft. Flagler.)
Eleanor and I agree that the flag team is the best of all the cheer teams because it’s the only genre of cheerleading that trains you to battle Sith Lords.
One of Katie’s cheers went along the lines of “Let’s! Get! A little bit rowdy! R-O-W-D-Y” but I kept accidentally singing the last part as “N-E-W-E-Y”
Other variations we came up with: “Let’s Get Slightly Rowdy,” “Let’s Get Sufficiently Rowdy,” “Let’s Get Sarcastically Rowdy” and “Let’s Get Exponentially Rowdy.” (Eleanor’s response to that last one: “oh, my.”)
Katie LOVED doing the Shorewood fight song with the big girls. She came back to us all dewey-faced and seriously pumped up. It was a great time to go home and be exhausted. Katie’s already asking when the next Junior Cheer clinic will be (not until late January, fortunately).
In the meanwhile, Eleanor and I have decided that we should watch more partial football games because popcorn and Red Vines.
(Oh and there was a football game. We lost — terribly! 10-60. Poor local sportsing team!)
Meanwhile, Katie continues to regale me with tales of Complicated Friendship Dynamics, with enough layers of intrigue and conspiracy to rival Wolf Hall. Who among Katie’s circle is merely her BFF, instead of her BFFFFFF? Who has betrayed her on the playground today? Will she ever get to play kickball with her “crush,” Greyson? (Greyson is often the topic of discussion in Katie’s “very secret love journal,” which she insisted I read and give feedback.)
Katie is also reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory for the first time, and just as with all my other kids, she’s been completely pulled in by the suspense of the will-Charlie-find-a-Golden-Ticket plot.
A few days ago, she rushed into my room at bedtime, holding the book in her hands and insisted on reading aloud the chapter where Charlie’s grandparents all pooled their pennies together to buy him a birthday candy bar. She was SO CERTAIN there would be a Golden Ticket in that candy bar — eight years of children’s media had led her to believe that it was inevitable — but alas, it was but one of the many fake-outs Mr. Dahl set up to keep his readers guessing.
But she wasn’t disappointed. “There are still three tickets out there, Mom, and Charlie has to get one because why else would it be called Charlie and the Chocolate Factory??” No fooling her.
Lately we’ve also pulled Eleanor’s Schleich fairy castle out of her closet and made it, as I put it, “public domain.” Katie and William now spend long hours in knight and fairy fantasy play, with epic backstories, complex battle scenarios, and very assertive Fairy Queens. (All the fairy queens in my household Lean In.)
Katie has also discovered that whenever she feels down or bored, she can text GIFS to my mom. Bless my mom, she is always patient and sends GIFS back. Thanks, mom. It’s gotten us through more than one rough friendship day (see above).
OH — and as if all of the above were not enough Katie action — she’s recently discovered Brian’s old high school trumpet, and he told her it was okay to play it whenever she wanted and even printed out a page of basic key positions and now she’s “practicing trumpet” and carrying the blamed thing around with her like a security blanket. In fact, that’s often where we find the trumpet: nestled among a pile of stuffies and wrapped in her special blankie.
Brian, my dearest spouse. Did you really think our youngest daughter needed yet another avenue for self-expression? Really? It’s a good thing I love you, even if my ears occasionally do not.
You know what Wimmy doesn’t do much of? Complain. Even when he’s experiencing quite a bit of leg pain — which he’s been doing off and on for the past six weeks.
His left hip has been aching, sometimes so badly that he needs crutches to get around. (We had to bring the crutches with us on our Oregon road trip in August.) After a hike or a run — or the aforementioned Scout trip — he’ll be limping around the house, but ask him if he’s hurting, and he’ll say that he’s just fine. When he’s really not fine.
I took him to our pediatrician, which led to a blood test, which led to an x-ray, which led to a meeting with an orthopedist at Seattle Children’s, which led to an MRI.
Possible but not fully confirmed diagnosis: osteoid osteoma, aka William might have a benign tumor in his hip bone. Benign! Let’s not forget the magic b-word.
He has a CT scan this coming Tuesday to confirm. If the diagnosis is correct, he’ll get a low-invasive oblation, using a thin needle to kill off the tumor. If the diagnosis is incorrect, then . . . mystery pain goes on indefinitely?
It’s not often you hope your child has a tumor. But that’s where we are.
In other news, Will loved the aforementioned Scout campout at Ft. Flagler. It’s a little unfortunate that we are leaving Scouts at the end of the year, because Will really seems to enjoy it. (I, on the other hand, am SO READY to say goodbye to this lumbering dinosaur of a nonprofit don’t even get me started.)
The campout was one night but it’s an annual tradition in our ward. Ft. Flagler is a decommissioned military base from the WWII era. It’s a multi-tiered concrete fortress that makes for the perfect “Capture the Flag” game, which usually runs until 3:00 a.m.
Brian went along as a chaperone. He didn’t sleep well the night before, worried about kids falling to their deaths off of Ft. Flagler. Buuuuuut it turns out that the adults in charge were really good at setting ground rules to keep everyone safe and the game fair. Whew! Only one sprained ankle in the bunch.
William enjoyed himself so much that, upon arriving home, he immediately came upstairs to where I was knitting and wanted to give me a minute-by-minute rundown of everything that happened.
I said I was happy to listen after he took a shower. Which he did, and then happily cuddled in my lap and gave me a minute-by-minute rundown of everything that happened. EVERYTHING.
I’m constantly torn between wanting to push Eleanor to succeed in everything and holding myself back and not wanting her to explode from pressure or whatever.
The good news is that Eleanor is finally showering of her own accord — and! and! — making her bed every day. Cleaning out her room has given her incentive to keep it clean, and she’s succeeded so far.
Eleanor is enjoying her high school classes so far, except that her Geometry class has taken her a bit off guard. She was in honors math classes in middle school, and is taking honors everything else, but since there is no “honors” version of Geometry (why would there be?) then there are 10th and 11th graders in her class, many of whom are not highly motivated students.
My 9th and 10th grade math classes were the same way; I think it’s healthy to be with a variety of different learners, as long as the class doesn’t feel out of control (and I haven’t seen that at Shorewood so far).
She applied to be an ASB justice (low level student government position), but didn’t get the job. This was a bit of a blow, considering that she already lost her ASB senate run last spring. They talked her into being a Student Council person (even lower level student government job) which is the most thankless of tasks I’ve ever seen. But I just tease her with references of I, Claudia and say at least there isn’t an Honor Board and this is just one step on her way to overthrowing the student government, etc. etc. until she covers her ears and tells me to stop.
In the meanwhile, she’s interested in the thespian society and the math team and is singing with Camerata (whoa . . . and yikes). We’ll see how that last one works out. Three straight hours of choir per week is a lot of choir.
She and I are reading all the Enola Holmes books (which are fabulous) and watching Season 3 of “The Good Place” and she is simply the most fun person to hang out with even if she does still have the occasional yelling-and-door-slam moment.
This boy is so close to earning his Eagle Scout award and Brian and I are so over it. His big project (the blood drive this summer) is all checked off. Now we just have to do all the little piddling merit badge requirements and then set up a series of meetings and forms and red tape and arrrrgh.
Brian’s being the Lead Parent on this, which is great because I don’t got time for that.
In the meanwhile, we have finally installed a firewall-level internet filter which allows me to deny YouTube or the internet entirely with a flick of an app. This made Jeff extremely angry when we first turned it on, but he’s learning to adjust.
His anger seems to flare up more often and aggressively these days. I don’t know if it’s because of summertime . . . he loses a lot of social skills when he’s away from peers for so long. Yelling, door slamming, kicking walls and the back of car seats. It’s so stressful.
He’s interested in driving, but since we had a scary encounter driving home from Leavenworth on Labor Day, I don’t want him to drive the van anymore. (I should have put my foot down on this one from the start . . . I wasn’t allowed to drive my parents’ van until I was in college. Brian didn’t grow up with vans, and I don’t think he understands how difficult they are for beginning drivers). Jeff is understandably frustrated that he isn’t allowed to do something he only did weeks ago. Cue the yelling, stomping, door slamming, etc.
Sigh. Jeff and Eleanor are doing this behavior. I don’t know if my heart can take it if/when William starts.
The good news is that he is incredibly pleased with his birthday present this year. We are giving him the entrance fees for a three different Magic: the Gathering tournaments that are happening in conjunction with a new card set pre-release (as is my understanding).
Brian’s going out of town that weekend, so part of the present will be me forcing myself to stay awake until 1:00 a.m. so I can drive and pick him up when the tournament is over.
At least I know I can always make him smile with a choice meme. That boy done loves his memes.
Brian has some great projects at work that are going well, but unfortunately they are complicated and I know that if I attempt to describe them, I will fail miserably.
Said description will be slovenly and inaccurate. Nobody wants that.
Fortunately he enjoys telling me all about them, even if I can’t quite keep all the details straight in my mind. One of them is a study involving both BYU and Ancestry.com. That’s exciting, right? Two things I’ve heard of! Good for me.
His main trial in life right now is the sisyphean task of teaching Early Morning Seminary, constantly wrestling with a lesson manual that often seems written by someone who has never met teenagers, has no respect for their intellect, and is overall designed to make adult leaders feel good about themselves instead of helping the kids develop spiritually.
(At least, that is my take. Some of those lessons are simply dreadful.)
Add to all this a strong dollop of if-you-take-your-cell-phone-out-in-class-again-I-will-throw-it-against-the-wall, and I get the impression that Brian is getting more than a little discouraged with his second year of teaching.
On the bright side, he assures me that he’s said enough outrageous things to various stake-level leaders that I never have to worry about him being called to any bishopric, ever. Well, one less thing to fret over, I suppose.
I’m so glad I have him for my best friend.
For a change of pace for Date Night, I nabbed two tickets to the Moon Viewing Party at the Seattle Japanese Garden last week. There were beautiful lanterns and luminarias along the garden paths, launching of little boats, traditional Japanese folk music, and a haiku contest. (Brian entered, I did not. Neither of us won.)
First off, this thing finally got finished:
Yep, it’s the squishy grey “Greatlove Sweater” that I’ve been making for Kristen since May. This is by far the largest knitting project I’ve ever done, and it turned out very well. Kristen is incredibly pleased to have a sweater with sleeves that aren’t too long, and I’m happy to not have to drag around a massive cardigan with me everywhere I go.
We all took turns modeling. I spent a couple of hours wearing it before giving it up. (Yes, I know it was my idea to make it as a gift, but after having something as your constant companion for four months, there’s a little bit of mopey snurp-snurp when it’s all over.)
But the bigger news with me is that I’ve gone back to school. Well, part time. This is what I wrote on my Facebook feed:
“Twenty four years ago I was a college freshman and could not choose between majoring in English or Music. In order to decide, I enrolled in Intro to Literature (for English) and Beginning Music Theory.
The music theory class was a nightmare — all of the other kids had taken AP Music Theory in high school (which my high school didn’t even offer) and they all answered the instructor’s rapid-fire questions in unison (except me). A red headed girl who also studied piano asked condescending questions about who my piano teacher was, and what my score was in the all-state adjudications (as a military kid, I didn’t have very consistent lessons or access to competitions like that). I dropped the class that day and ran to the English department, where I could easily ace all the courses and read books forever.
While my music major friends called this the wisest decision I ever made (although they often affectionately referred to me as “the most music major person who isn’t a music major”) the experience rankled for a long time. When there’s something I’m passionate about, I like to excel. The whole affair reeked of Unfinished Business.
So it goes that I’ve decided to go back to school to earn an associate’s degree in Classical Piano! I’ve been taking private lessons through the community college for the past 3 years, and earning course credit along the way, so….why not? I’m only attending half-time, so it’s going to be a long, slow go of it, but since class started this past week I’ve found it very fulfilling. My kids even made me a schuletute to celebrate. I’m loving my mornings on campus and meeting lots of interesting people.
And if you think it’s odd to earn a Master’s degree and then follow it up with an Associate’s, just know that I am the third woman in the Shirts family to do this recently, so I’m just following a trend.”
Spoiler alert: that schuletute was full of random things my kids picked out from Fred Meyer and absolutely none of it was useful and I loved it.
I’m slowly adjusting to the student lifestyle again. In the morning, I hug Katie goodbye at the bus stop, then race to the school’s overflow free parking, catch the shuttle, and hoof it across campus. If I time everything just so, I can make it into one of the practice rooms by 9:00 a.m.
More updates on school life in posts to come. Hooray for fall!