Lockdown Logs: Summer Vacation??

La la la la la la la la la la la (that's the graduation song, sing it with me)  la la la la la la la la la la  la la laaaaaaaaaaaa la la la la la la laaaaaa

And so we say adieu to the Highland epoch of Chaya's preschool education. Last week she had her final zoom class. It was chaotic and slightly weepy. Not for the kids. But the adults knew what was up.

I don't know what's going to happen next year. Technically Chaya could go to public kindergarten, but we have mostly decided that it makes more sense to give her an extra year. She's academically ready (though so stubborn it's sometimes hard to know what she knows), but seems to struggle with some of the structure and social elements. And she's often hit milestones a bit slower than her peers to a point where she gets along best with slightly younger kids. We have started the process for an evaluation just to see if an IEP or other services will be helpful for making school be more comfortable. She definitely gets overstimulated and it seems to zap her self-regulating abilities, so that could make a huge difference.

With all the changes in public school and Chaya having already struggled adapting to some of the rules in her preschool, I have a hard time seeing that being a good combination. And she's young enough to wait. I still have a hard time figuring out how ot explain to her she probably won't go to kindergarten when she's five as she's always believed. But we'll figure that out as things develop.

So... let's call it her Gap Year? We'll just ship her to New Zealand or something

In many ways Chaya's adjusted more easily to the lockdowns, because she was already having some behavioral challenges. Those continue. On and off. She still gets into these beautifully self contained spaces. These sweet playful spaces. And sometimes, she melts down because it's not Valentine's Day today or maybe mommy is running out of voice after finishing the entire Wayside School is Falling Down (chapter book). Ok those sound pretty normal four year old meltdown material. But sometimes it's fast and furious and very confusing.

Sometimes, maybe too, she'll suddenly start howling and lock herself in her room sobbing DON'T COME IN for forty minutes because she scraped her knee on the carpet and is afraid we'll make her wear a bandaid so she just needs to change into looser pants before anyone finds out, but she's currently too upset to be able to manage this so finally she has cried so much she's coughing and she lets mommy come in to give her honey and we talk through her actually not needing a bandaid anyways and help change her pants and... awww honey chil' That's when I get my requisite sanity blast pack of mommy snugs that keep me sane through the constant "you're a bad guy" in response to me cutting her eggs on a slightly too acute angle or whatever.

  I mean I don't get a break so I'm all kinds of nuts, and Andrew's getting a bit more of the full panorama of WHEEEEEEEEE. But Chaya, herself... 

Not that she doesn't need the social experience. Just that having it reduced so drastically doesn't seem to be causing major regressions the way it is for a lot of kids right now. Chaya's got an increasingly elaborate fantasy imagination creative world. She's still sister bunny, a/k/a Allan. And baby bunny and brother bunny and daddy bunny and mommy bunny sometimes. And sometimes Daddy Bunny goes to work and sends a hippo to watch the bunnies. The hippo sleeps on the couch.

Mommy take a picture with the "Baby Shark" filter! Where's the "Baby Shark" filer (there is none) WAAAAAAA

At home I've been encouraging "the angry dance." When Chaya gets upset sometimes she hops up and down and yells. Before this she would walk up to somebody or something and hit. Not great. But more and more she's started to and then held back. And the dance gets bigger. I've praised it and then asked what her happy dance or her sad dance or her have to pee dance is. Little actress/performer that she is, this often delights her. Or at least distracts her.

Other innovations in parenting. "If you're going to hide your hands in your shirt and then say you're hungry and demand that somebody feed you trail mix, mommy will pour it all in a shallow trough and show you how to eat like a farm animal" She learned this one well. 

And bathtime is way more fun with laser lights.

 So fun, in fact, Chaya even got in the water without screaming twice in a row this week. And mommy kept herself fairly entertained remembering the days when you had to go to a rave to get the insta filter selfie look.

Also, when the internet goes out during "songs time" mommy has this ancient technology called DVDs with movies on them and Chaya thinks it's the most amazing thing ever. Sorcery I tell you!

And the countdown begins - Two weeks and change before we MOVE!

Andrew and I had been talking about getting a pet when we move, but in the meantime... We have ants! Tons of itty bitty harmless swarming ants. We've always had little clusters of them in this apartment. Actually our last place too, but so briefly it didn't register much in my memory. I've usually used ant bait and it keeps it contained. But in our apartment they just keep streaming in through various windows and cracks so it never really ends. Recently they've discovered the kitchen, which is already in disarray from the haphazard packing efforts. They show up in one spot and I madly clean it. It appears to be over as I discard of a paper towel covered in drowned ants. Then an hour or two later... next spot. Never ends. I really think. In the off chance they stowaway no our possessions I think it best if we just burn all our stuff and begin again. Easier than moving anyways.

Yesterday they invaded a peanut butter sandwich I was making so - even though we only have another week and a half here - I'm getting ant bait and spending my days bleach spraying the cupboards. Good things to do before moving anyways.

Oh moving. here we are! I'm packing up a little at a time. Andrew's going to rent a Uhaul and start the move himself. Chaya is surfing on the boxes, sledding on the insulating layers, and trying to turn the wardrobe boxes into slides or hiding cabins.

It's a minor chaos. I believe moving ultimately is a final ritual to make you really really happy to be leaving your current house. Though then there's the slow painful unpacking that makes your new house less appealing in its own way, but... at least the new house probably doesn't have ants. Probably??

And the world spins on. With velocity. All around us. It's hard for me to comment on the massive movement that is happening now without sounding naive, condescending white-savior air sucking, complacent, or complicit. Because I am all that. But these are historic times. Interesting even enough for an Irish curse or several. But possibly vital and paradigm shifting too. I hope.

White Girl Doesn't Solve Racism - And Covid's Still Out there

 I admit, it scares me that this explosive taking to the streets is happening now, now when we are already seeing increases of covid-19 cases. Especially with the seeping complacency and anxiousness to return to "normal" before it seems prudent already in motion. I don't fully understand why many states have continued to open in the midst of rising numbers and decreasing hospital capacity, though I get economic concerns.Washington's been very cautious, but not everyone here has gone along and everyone seems like they're burning out So there's that... and I am worried.  That's far less about the protests and everything surrounding it. It just feels like suddenly everyone's over eager to put their fingers in their ears and say "well we gave it a go!" while the numbers keep ticking up. Like "staying at home staying safe" was that New Year's resolution we bought all the cool new equipment for and then just petered out on midway through the year.

 But there are different ways life and security can be threatened. And police violence, systemic inequality, and all of these exploitative systems baked into the Great American Experiment are much greater threats to black communities. And it is disgusting. And we tolerate it or ignore it too easily in our ivory towers until we're stuck inside them for a few months. This seems to be possibly finally breaking into areas where big change is possible. It may feel like bad timing to happen during a pandemic, but sometimes you can't sit around and wait for the perfect time for a revolution. And the energy built up these last few months has explosive potential.

And I don't pretend to know what's needed right now. In my individual safe place, no, I don't have to like the idea of violence happening in the protests - from police or protesters or sandbaggers. It isn't about me or what tactics I personally, in my upper middle white class tower, deem valid. I don't have to exonerate or explain. I am pretty much part of the problem so I probably should feel threatened. The status quo is comfy and it needs to come down. And I can both believe most police officers are individually good people who deal with a lot of really emotionally discouraging stuff and that the system is intrinsically noxious and in need of reform. Way beyond policing, but gotta start somewhere And much of the policing behavior occurring during the protests - brutality to stop protests against brutality?? - confirms that. I deeply hope there's a path to change.

... And I hope somehow it turns being outdoors and mask wearing really cuts transmission down.Or heck pepper spray kills covid. That would be a cool discovery!

At any rate, I've been letting my online presence take a break for a little while to focus my sharing on the voices that can do with amplification. To try to let voices of color have a little more prominence and to drown them out less with these cute little kiddo stories.

But a little howdy from now and then is good for the soul.

And this is all about Chaya. I grew up not understanding that some of my friends were people of color. I didn't grok any of the consequences of that or how our lives may or may not differ. Not until my best friend and boyfriend were both biracial from more racially diverse (and thus tense) areas. Not until way after in many ways. Not even now. I'm still learning. But I'm hoping Chaya starts way ahead of me. That much I can commit to. She's going to know racism is not a thing that MLK solved with peace marches, and that it isn't some conscious choice to be mean that bad people make because they're bad. She'll know that this country has been built on the backs of others and that that is complicated in how it plays out in the present. That the effects of what our "forefathers" do carry through generations and show up in weird, twisted ways. And it won't be comfortable for her. But why should it be. And she'll know I don't have the answers. And she'll know to look for them. And she'll know we'll do it wrong over and over again and that's ok as long as we keep trying.

So hello, I hope you're all well. Carry on. Keep safe and healthy or know the risks and mitigate as best you can.