First Day of School

All four kids in school this morning, in-person, full-day. It's a momentous day.

Alice was so excited she woke up at midnight and couldn't get back to sleep. She's wired. 

Robert, resigned to his fate, got up, did what he needed to do, got reeeeeeally stressed in the last few minutes before leaving, but made it.

James, also resigned to his fate, but keeping himself to himself, did what needed to be done and was out the door with little fuss. 

Matthew, nervous about the new teacher and all the new kids and expectations he wouldn't know, flitted about and chatted nervously. He felt like we were going to leave without him at any moment, even 30 minutes before our scheduled departure. 

Bobby walked James and Matthew to school. I drove Robert to school. Alice walked to school with a friend.

And now Bobby and I are home alone in our own house. Whew. 

I would normally dive deep into my feelings at this point, but I'm not going there today. It's been an inordinately rough couple of weeks. My physical symptoms of anxiety have resurfaced a bit and I'm back on my anti-anxiety meds. The anxiety is not debilitating like it was December 2018, but it's palpable and very uncomfortable. As I wake up in the morning and just start to get my bearings, it hits me like a wave: rapid pulse, hot flashes, every sound startles me and fills me with fear, nausea, lower GI distress, and a burning in my chest like I just got caught in a huge lie. Thankfully, I can get out of bed and take care of my family for the most part. That's good. I am very, very happy about that. And the anxiety seems to taper off significantly in the afternoon and evening. I am grateful for that tender mercy, too. 

I'll save the emotional deep dive for another day :)

Mo' Photos

I just can't sit down and blog as much as I'd like to these days. Hopefully, when school starts, it'll be easier to record more of our lives. Here are some photos of what's been goin' on out here:

 

I created this in my backyard. It makes me happy. Giant zinnias, marigolds, bachelor's buttons, poppies, snapdragons, and a few bulb alliums on their way out. I still love veggies more, but flowers have a certain appeal and they conveniently feed beneficial insects.

Matthew and James trying out our new inflatable mattress. We plan to use it for our second ever family camping trip in a couple weeks.

James has taken an interest in learning how to mow lawns. He likes the earning opportunities it opens up.

Robert took an online class in Minecraft Redstone Engineering. He said it was a lot of fun.

Matthew hanging out in the hot tub at the condo in Perdido Key, FL. We traveled there to spend a week with some family on my side: my parents, Erin, the Barneys, and the Bennetts. Unfortunately, we got Erin sick the week before and she had to cancel. I'm still working out how to make up for that.

A wheat field in Michigan. Rachel and I rode 50 miles together in the Holland 100.

Cousins! Here are all the cousins that came on the Florida trip.

The boys looooooved the pools and the beach in Florida. Mostly the pools.

Proof that Alice came to the beach with us :) She wasn't feeling very social for much of the trip and stayed in her room reading, writing, and listening to music.

Matthew wanted to get buried in the sand SO much. Robert was happy to comply.

We had rain the first couple of days in Florida, which made little bursts of rainbows now and then. Bobby and the boys saw this one our first day at the beach.

Three generations in one place.

Garlic harvest time! Matthew and James were both great helpers.

James decided one day that he wanted to make something delicious and call it his special concoction (or something similar...I can't remember exactly the words he chose, but the name was very important at the time). It's a blackberry-blueberry freezer jam. Quite delicious!

We and the Garners had a "frousin" swap a few weeks ago. We sent Robert and James to Ohio for a week and got Rebekah and Miriam in return. We were talking about things we could do while the girls were visiting and Matthew mentioned that he couldn't remember ever visiting a zoo. And especially, he had never seen a penguin in real life. He really, really wanted to see one in real life. Ta da! Thanks, Scoville Zoo, for being close, incredibly affordable, and for having playful, vocal penguins that like to play with kids on the other side of the glass.

Sometimes we get to take Ruby places. In this case, she had just spent the morning at the groomer and was pooped from all the excitement. She perked up again when she saw we were taking her to play with friends, though :)

Well, that wasn't what I expected.

At the beginning of this year, I had made a goal to run the Abe's Olympic-distance Triathlon on July 31st. Olympic distance is 0.9 mile swim, 25 mile bike, and 6.2 mile run.

Today is the 31st.

It didn't go as planned.

16 weeks ago, my training started really well. The thick of summer set in at about Week 12 and between gardening, farming, realizing I still had four kids at home that needed me in new and different (e.g. emotionally taxing) ways, and a foot injury that made just plain walking around my house pretty darn painful, my regular workouts fell by the wayside. I took a long ride once a week or so, but no more running and no more swimming. 

Since I couldn't walk, much less run, I would have to drop out of the race. I almost quit. Then I saw they were offering an Aquabike option...swim, bike, and done. Same distances. I switched my registration from the Tri to the Aquabike, but my heart wasn't really in it. If anything, it made me a little more lax about it all. After all, it's *just* a swim and bike, right?

Pbbsh. Idiot.

I pretty much did no exercise at all for the last 2 weeks. I had set myself up for a really, really hard race. If you love me, don't let me sign up for a summer triathlon again. The training just falls apart when it's competing against my other summer duties and interests. I will never learn that on my own.

The race location was 2 hours from my house. Lake Springfield. I would have to drive out and spend the night if I wanted to be there for the start at 7:45am. So, I packed a bag, loaded up my bike and gear, and took off. It wasn't until I checked into my hotel in Springfield that I realized my bag was still in Urbana. I had no tri suit, no padded cycling shorts, no clean clothes, no toiletries. Driving home to get it would be a 4-hour round trip and get me back to my hotel at 11pm.

I wanted to cry. I almost quit. Again.

I texted Bobby about my predicament and he helped me realize that I still had options. I just needed a swimsuit, right? I could get by with the clothes on my back and the gear in my car if I had a good swimsuit.

So, that's how I came to experience Scheels for the first time. Scheels is like an indoor amusement park for sports, hunting, and American history enthusiasts. There were talking presidential statues, a ferris wheel, several staged photo opportunities with various taxidermied (is that a word?) wild animals, a whole section for people with pet dogs (dogs totally allowed in), and different sections of clothing and equipment for various competitive sports and hunting/fishing sports. I was the ONLY person there with a mask, and boy did that attract the stares. I found the swimsuits and suddenly remembered that I hadn't packed a cap or goggles, even in the bag I had left at home. That would have been a terrible experience, so I'm counting it a tender mercy that I was in a convenient place to purchase those items for my swim the next day. 

Now equipped sufficiently, I went back to my hotel room. Slept in my clothes. With my contacts in. Didn't brush my teeth. 

Thinking back, I probably could have gone to another store to pick up toiletries and/or a pair of pajamas to make my stay a little more comfortable. It didn't really occur to me in the moment. I was only thinking about the bare minimum I would need for the race. Hm. 

The night passed without incident. 

I came out of the hotel the next morning and noticed it had rained a little in the night, "Whew," I thought, "Glad that didn't happen during the race!"

30 minutes later, I was at the race venue, in the rain. The rain didn't stop the ENTIRE time. 

The lake water was 80F, a full 20F warmer than it felt outside in the wind and rain. Jumping into the water was a welcome relief after standing half-naked in the cold for so long. How did the swim go? It was long. Very, very long. It took me just over 45 minutes to swim 0.9 miles. Mostly breast stroke because I couldn't see anything in the murky lake and kept going off course when swimming freestyle. I should have trained better.

After the swim, I was half-naked and now completely WET in the windy rain. My bike was soaked, my only pair of clothes was soaked. I just threw on my cold, soggy socks and shoes and helmet and got pedaling. In my swimsuit. Ugh. I was confident that 25 miles on the bike would keep me warm, even being half-naked and soaked and creating my own cycling wind chill (15 mph on average). I was half right. My arms and hands went completely stiff. Mostly numb. The rest of my body easily worked as hard as it needed to without complaint. I'm lucky to have the body that I do. It can do hard things.

My ego took a little hit every time I got passed by other racers. I felt like such a poser. Imposter syndrome. I knew I hadn't trained properly. I knew I didn't have all my usual gear. I knew some bodies would simply outperform my body no matter how hard I trained, so comparison is useless, but still...sigh...

Sometimes the rain hit so hard that it stung my exposed back and shoulders. Why was I doing this?! Why did I continue?! I think I was motivated by a blend of pride ("I don't quit"), pride ("I've already invested so much money and time this far, just finish it!"), pride ("This'll make a funny story someday. Oo! Maybe even an inspirational one!"), aaaaaand good old-fashioned pride ("Won't it be cool to know I've completed this?"). 

When I finished my ride, I was physically and mentally done. Soaked. Numb. Sore. Starving. Desperate for a bathroom. Grateful, too, for this body. I felt strong. I was a little embarrassed that I couldn't do the full Tri as I had planned, but also grateful that I didn't have to spend an hour more running in the cold rain. 

Here are my times for the swim and bike. I'm only putting them here for future reference when/if I decide to do anything like this again:

Swim: 0.9 miles, 47:07

Bike: 25 miles, 1:37:08, avg speed 15.4 mph

I was so grateful that our race SWAG included a soft, dry t-shirt and soft, dry socks. That made the drive home sooooo much more comfortable. It's the little things, y'know?

Bits and Bobs

I have a mosquito bite on my palm.

Squash bug guts have smelled oddly sweet and familiar to me for some years. When I cracked open a can of Peach-Pear La Croix for the first time, I finally figured it out: juicy pear Jelly Belly. Now I have a case of mildly-scented carbonated water that turns my stomach inside out. Maybe I can cook with it or mix it into other drinks to dull the scent further.

I'm feeling lonely. Busy, engaged, fulfilled, and a little lonely. It's not a crisis. I started writing in my paper journal now and then, but it didn't have the same therapeutic effect as writing on the blog because I knew none of my loved ones would be reading it. I was writing to the void, or to myself, which only gets me so far, y'know? I need people.

The kids have been setting up shop in the house this week. It started with James selling off all the candy he had that contained gluten*. Then Matthew pulled out his stash and started trading/selling. Then James expanded his offerings to include less cherished collectibles like rocks, shells, and fossils he'd collected over the years. The next day, he added a book rental service. Every once in a while he'd bring out something reeeeeeeally special like his soft, kitty cat slippers or his little key-code safe and give an irresistible sales pitch to Matthew who was then bursting to purchase it. The prices were reasonable, and parent-approved. Matthew is happier. James is a little richer. And I bought most of their candy off of them for pennies a piece. Mwah ha ha ha haaaaaa!

I asked Robert to consider talk therapy as a resource for dealing with some of his overwhelming frustration in trying to manage everyone else's behavior. He hemmed and hawed. Then I told him I made an appointment. He grumbled and moaned and let me know, repeatedly, in both calm and animated tones that it would be weird and wouldn't make a difference and he didn't want to do it. I let him know that talk therapy only works if you want it to. Just four sessions. If he doesn't find any value in it after four sessions, that's fine, he doesn't have to continue, but at least he knows what it's like. Two sessions down, two to go. I was present during the first session. He was solo the second session and she made him hot chocolate. He said it was okay, and that he mostly just agreed with what she said to him. Not ideal, but I'll take it. He told me about an exercise they did where they listed his triggers, the emotions that resulted from those triggers, and then actions he could take to deal with those emotions. 

"Aha!" moment! For me.

My instinctive response to Robert's triggers has been helping him logically work through the minutiae of the trigger situation and jump right into the "what can you do about it" bit**. I've completely ignored the emotions that he's feeling. No wonder nothing has changed! No wonder he doesn't feel heard! I haven't once validated his feelings (incredibly powerful medicine in my experience) or indicated that I see his suffering at all. Well, if four sessions of talk therapy does nothing for him personally, it's at least helped me as his parent.

James, Matthew and I took the van for a wash and thorough vacuuming while Robert was in his appointment. Matthew turned into a carpet-crud-sucking superhero, pouncing on every particle he could see, shouting victoriously at each defeat. James preferred to scout around the area looking for dropped treasures. He told me that the loud vacuums made it hard to hear when something dropped out of a person's car onto the ground, so it's an ideal place to look. He wasn't wrong. He found a wheat penny (!) and 9 cents more besides. I made him throw away the glass bead, metal spring, screw, and other such treasures*** over concerns of sanitation.

Matthew is 98% recovered from his recent cold (the Covid test came back negative) without a visit to the ER or a regimen of oral steroids. His daily allergy meds and inhaled asthma meds saved the day. I thank God for modern medicine that helps a cold stay simply a cold. 

Just the other day, James was telling Matthew that people used to die a lot younger than they do now. He figured that humans had evolved to live longer in just that short time. I corrected that notion and let him know that our gene pool doesn't change that rapidly. Our medical knowledge does, though. I told him that Matthew and I would have likely died in childbirth, and Bobby of appendicitis. Who knows how we would have endured childhood illnesses and infectious disease? Most of us would have would have lived, but a little worse for the wear...polio, scarlet fever, chronic ear infections...

Feeling grateful. 

*James is not nearly as diligent or scientific about his gluten experience as Alice has been, so we STILL don't know whether it's a problem for him or not. Even when Bobby and I offer him gluten free options, he accidentally eats gluteny things on his own without thought, or says he's not hungry and walks away, and doesn't care to keep track of his symptoms. If it doesn't bother him enough to care, then maybe it's not a good time to be investigating this.

**This is kind of my personality. I truly am part robot. I did it long before anti-anxiety meds ever blunted my emotions. When a problem arises, I investigate its roots. I want to know WHY and HOW it happened. As if finding the cause of the problem will make the sadness or hurt it created go away all on its own. Sometimes it helps, but most of the time the hurt remains. I carried hurt for decades, even when the "problem" itself was over. I didn't even know I carried it until someone named it and validated it. Then I felt healed. 

***Did I tell you I used to collect stuff like that off the playground in elementary school and hoard them in my desk? One day, I showed my treasure trove to my best friend and she said, "Ew! That's just a bunch of trash, you know." I smile inside at James' familiar habit, but draw the line at scrounging in greasy, sticky public parking lots. He didn't seem upset. He was content with the money.

Another Summer Update

It's been a whirlwind summer. Every other week has been something new or different. The weeks in between feel like a juggling act between my regular responsibilities and shouldering the extra time and attention with the kids.

Alice felt like the Sketch Comedy Workshop at BYU was a slice of heaven. She also decided that the next time she goes to Utah, she's going to need a lot more time with her cousins in SLC and in AF. Maybe a week with each? I raised an eyebrow but kept all my "that won't work because..." thoughts to myself. This life has shown me that I am often wrong about such things. The workshop was filled with her people. She felt completely at home, completely herself, completely accepted and loved. It was independence like she's never experienced. When she first got home, she was a whirlwind of laughter and confidence. Then over a week or so, that girl faded into the polar opposite...sadness, no appetite, messed up sleeping schedule, taking little interest in things that used to excite her, staying in bed all day... it was more than "the blues" and it was getting worse. She met with her therapist today and they termed it "a depressive episode." She's doing better since naming it. She was shocked, actually, at how much better she felt after only one hour of therapy. Alice figured it would take weeks of work to feel normal again. It's not totally over yet, but it's getting better.

Robert and James spent a week in Ohio with their frousins (friend-cousins), the Garners. Rk and Mims stayed with us. It was a frousin exchange. Like all things parenting, it had its ups and downs. We went to the pool, the library, and the zoo. We did sewing, crafts, and more crafts. I heard several times a day about how the Evans house and family culture were different from the Garner house and family culture. I got to experience a 4-year-old again (how soon one forgets!!) and Alice got to experience having little sisters for a week. Sort of. It's different when you grow up with them. Anyway, she finally confessed at the END of the week that she had stopped wanting little sisters once she had plenty of little brothers. Years ago. When Robert and James returned from their time with the Garners, they told us about the museum, the zoo, the glass-blowing workshop, the lake, and a whole week of Mexican-themed dinners. Rachel and I haven't talked about it much. Not everything we learned from this experience is something we want our kids to overhear *sigh* I hope to evaluate the experience with her more thoroughly as we ride 50 miles together in Michigan this weekend. 

Matthew has grown a lot this summer. Learning to read and swim and play piano all at once seems to do that to a person. He feels like he can do hard things. He cracks jokes and ponders big questions just like the rest of the kids, even if they don't pay him much mind (that's older-sibling-itis for ya'). Matthew had a great time with Rk and Mims here. They played games more the way he liked to play them...predictably, cooperatively, and everyone on the same side. No rogue characters changing it into a war game or telling him he's doing it all wrong. Matthew was happy to follow the girls' lead. He's made enormous progress against his fear of water. Unbelievable. Reading and writing is a fun challenge for him right now, too. Piano, well, we haven't really had two weeks of lessons in a row all summer and home practice time has not been enforced, so he feels like he's really good at THAT, too!

Alice has Girls Camp the rest of this week, then we take a family trip to the Gulf Coast, then we hang out at home for a week before Robert goes to "Sixth Grade Transition". It's like summer school, but just for the new 6th graders at the middle school. I guess they'll get familiar with the campus, lockers, having multiple teachers, changing for PE, etc. All the middle school stuff that there's no way to prepare you for in elementary school. He's not looking forward to 6th grade. At all. 

My Olympic-distance triathlon is coming up at the end of the month. I've developed a running injury that makes running or walking for long distances pretty painful :( I'm resting it now, hoping it'll be well enough to compete in a few weeks. It won't be my fastest triathlon. I've wanted to quit the race so many times before now. But I realized that if I don't do it this time, it will be hanging over me like a debt unpaid. I'll feel compelled to finish it another year. I'll have to start the training all over again! So, I'm doing it this year. Rest the foot, take it slowly, steadily, and just get to the finish. Then figure out a more suitable goal for next year :)

My garden is BEAUTIFUL! It makes me so happy to grow things and be out there. I've been eating as much of it as I care to and donating the extra produce to Solidarity Gardens. I think I'm finally learning to like beets! Like them! Not just tolerate them. 

James appears to have some degree of sensitivity to gluten/wheat, too. Still experimenting with dosage and other potential causes of his symptoms. In some ways, it's easier to have 2 gluten-free kids than just one. It makes the family's hassle and sacrifice a little easier to bear :( Having to be careful about gluteny and non-gluteny foods is a big, stinking hassle and sacrifice! When I die and get to ask all my questions, I'm going to want to know about the timing of all this...why now? Why, when they had both been enjoying wheat for their whole lives do they both develop similar symptoms that seem to disappear when wheat/gluten is removed from their diet? They are 6 grades apart! One female, one male. One prone to anxiety, one oblivious to it. One going through puberty, one still a child. One craving attention from peers, one contented never to stand out. Was there some sort of environmental cue that set things in motion for these guys?!?! Crazy. I'm definitely gonna ask.