A Day in the Life

I just wanted to record today:

1am Matthew has a terrifying nightmare about a hurricane. James brings him to me and I let him sleep in my bed. Years ago, I swore I would never let my kids sleep in bed with me. I just don't care as much anymore. He sleeps fitfully and loudly. I'm aware of him there the rest of the night, always a little worried that I'll wake him up or he'll wake up again. It's not a restful sleep.

6:30am My watch alarm goes off, but Matthew's still sleeping, so I turn it off. We don't really need to go anywhere this morning anyway. 

6:35? Matthew gets out of bed. I stay put. It's Bobby's day to get him breakfast. 

7:15 Alex wakes up and knocks lightly at my bedroom door. He wants to get ready for work and needs my bathroom. I let him in and *almost* fall asleep again while he gets ready. 

7:30am I get out of bed for family prayer. Family Prayer.

7:35am Bring on the morning routine. I putter around the house tidying and loading the dishwasher. Bobby does such a great job unloading it promptly that I sometimes get mad at him. If it's empty, I need to reload. Matthew gives me a long hug around my waist and says thank you for comforting him after his horrible dream. Robert asks if I have any breakfast ideas for him. I suggest the usual and he says he's growing tired of those. I suggest the things he never chooses and he gets irritated that I would list things I already know he doesn't usually eat. Dude. What do you want from me?

7:45am Alex leaves for work. I suggest Robert makes chocolate chip muffins. It doesn't take long to remember why I don't ask him to cook very often. Every ingredient, every step in the process starts with complaining, progresses to irritation, peaks at frustration, and ends with a mini exposition on how I misunderstood his request for assistance. He speaks English, I swear, but I stink at predicting what his words actually mean.

7:55am Matthew asks to play a game of dominoes with me. He has it in his head that he and I will play every game in our game closet this summer. I join him on the living room floor. James has taken up some of the floor sorting through Alex's collection of glass beads. He sorts them by color, identifies a few broken ones and mutants, and puts the whole ones back into the treasure box to mix up and gaze upon, thinking about how cool they look. 

8:15am The muffin batter is finally, finally ready to go into the oven. Robert gives himself a 2nd degree burn on the oven door and calmly asks me to take over. Ice pack. Broken blister. Trouble getting dressed for an outing with friends. So much pain. 

8:40am Muffins! Robert gets to eat. He's very happy. He claims these muffins as his own and puts them in the freezer for future breakfasts. 

8:50am James does not want to practice piano. He asks again about when he'll be allowed to stop taking them. I tell him again that he can quit when he gets as far as Robert did. James asks how far. Robert says he thinks it was somewhere in book 5 (James is very close to finishing book 3). James breaks into sobbing and runs to the front room. He asks to see the book for confirmation. I tell him I'll get it when I'm done playing dominoes with Matthew. Robert continues to talk to me about his burn pain. James continues to cry in the front room. Matthew asks how we know when the game is over. He's been playing for an hour, completely content to play without knowing the objective of the game. 

9:15am The game of dominoes is finished. I look through the piano books and discover that Robert only got halfway through Book 4. This is a huge relief to James. His mood lightens significantly and he practices piano.

9:30am The boys get dressed. Matthew and I lay on the living room floor doing 10 pages of math. His math assessment at the new school showed he hadn't yet been exposed to several 3rd grade math concepts. He was tasked with completing this workbook over the summer. The workbook is significant. We'll need to complete 4.8 pages each weekday all summer to finish it. Matthew gets distracted very easily, and 10 pages feels overwhelming to him this morning. I work on my patience. I concoct ways to make the problems less tedious. James chimes in and makes it fun enough to work through at a steady pace.

10am Math done, we pick up a couple prescriptions and drop off a carload of donations to Salt and Light Ministries. It's our local Salvation Army.

10:15am The boys finish their chores to earn computer turns, and then get started. I start prepping the house for guests. I had invited the sisters in my Relief Society to a Lunch Bunch potluck at 11:30 that day. 

11am James helps me start a batch of charcoal in the grill. 

11:25am I throw some Impossible burgers and veggie hot dogs on the grill. 

11:40am Just when I start to think no one will show up, 3 families arrive. Lunch Bunch has begun! There are 6 little girls aged 18 months to 5yrs in our front room playing with toys. There is one 8wk old infant named Arthur. James and Matthew follow me around nervously as I finish grilling and setting up for the buffet. Matthew gleefully asks to flip the burgers. I let him have a go. James mumbles something of an unsure warning and Matthew's mood crashes instantly. A few apologies and some encouragement later, Matthew is willing to try again. He succeeds! 

11:50am The food is ready and we start to eat. Families are willing to try the vegetarian grilled items. Several folks are pleasantly surprised at the Impossible burgers. The veggie hot dogs are pretty much disgusting. Live and learn, eh? 

12:15pm Robert comes home from his outing with friends and sees the baby. He walks right up to the mother and asks if he can hold him. Robert is gentle and a little insecure, but clearly happy. Uncharacteristically smiling. He finally hands the baby back to his mother and gets up to find lunch. Lunch Bunch continues. I meet some new people and have awkward conversations with them. I'm not used to talking about myself, so when someone asks basic stuff like where I'm from or what I like to do, I draw a blank. I mentally process all the options right there on the spot to find an accurate and concise way to answer the question. They look at me. I'm still thinking. I take longer than they expect and feel like I owe them an explanation. The first thing that comes out is, "I don't like talking about myself." Which startles and embarrasses the woman as if she had done something offensive. I try to clarify, but it's all wrong, and I just end up answering the question in stream of consciousness style, which is neither accurate nor concise. Her eyes widen and her brows raise just a touch. I stop talking. It's quiet for half a beat, then I ask her the same question and everyone is suddenly relieved that the conversation is now on track again. Ugh. The little girls play great together. The adults converse easily. Someone asks if we're vegetarian. I tell them that Matthew is vegetarian out of compassion and we're supporting his choice. Then the topic turns to vegetarianism and veganism. I share a tidbit that most white sugar is not vegetarian because charred animal bones are used in the whitening process. It's only then that I realize Matthew is standing right next to me. He looks at me in horror, on the verge of tears, "Animal bones?! Sugar isn't vegetarian?!" I mentally smack my hand to my forehead. What have I done? It wasn't something I was trying to hide from him. I literally forgot all about it until that moment. I assured him that not all sugar was processed that way and we could talk about it later. 

1:15pm Families start packing up to leave. One mom mentions Alex's summer Kid Camp and then a series of questions and glowing recommendations ensues.

1:30pm Lunch Bunch is over. I clean up. The boys play with all the toys they haven't seen in months (years?). Everything old is new again. Then Matthew remembers that it's a piano lesson day. He's overcome with fear and shame that he doesn't have his songs down well. So. Much. Crying. So much consoling. So much practicing patience. 

3:15pm Alex comes home, full of stories about work that day. We talk for 30 minutes. He tells me his bike is making several noises and he doesn't feel entirely safe riding it to work in that condition. I promise to give it a tune up that evening. 

3:45pm I load up the boys for piano lessons. Matthew is upset again, but quiet this time. James asks me to talk to his teacher about possibly getting through that half of Book 4 by the end of the summer so he can quit before 6th grade. I agree to ask. When I bring it up to his teacher (who is my friend that I admire and love), she dramatically, lovingly, and half-jokingly tells James that he can't possibly quit. That he shouldn't. That she won't let him. He's much too fine a piano student to stop. He should reconsider. She simply won't let him quit. James takes all this attention quietly, with a polite and insecure half-smile. He doesn't answer her. Then the lesson begins. 

5:15pm Both boys get through their lessons just fine. We dash home for dinner. Bobby has prepared cheesy oven fried chicken 4 ways: regular with cheese and seasoned breading, non-dairy for me, completely plain and boring for Robert, and a vegetarian form for Matthew. 

6:15pm One of the sisters from church that I minister to calls me to let me know her apartment might have bed bugs again. Her home helper can't come if there are bed bugs, so she needs someone else to pick up her medications 1-2x a week, grocery shop for her 1x a week, do her laundry 2x a month, and take her to doctor appointments and the bank 1-2x a month until her apartment is cleared. Last time, it took a month to get rid of all the bed bugs. The time before that, it took 4 months. I told her I could pick up the items she needed and deliver them tomorrow. 

6:45pm It's time to leave for youth activities, but they're not being held in the usual place,  so Alex doesn't feel safe driving the boys to it. I take them. It's 20 minutes away instead of 7. 

7:25pm I'm at the grocery store picking up groceries and garbage bags for my ministeree. I also get her some fresh berries and salami because she loves them but can't often afford them. 

7:55pm I get home so Bobby can go pick up the kids from activities without taking Matthew along. I do something with my time. I can't remember. 

8:45pm Bobby gets back with the kids. Cue the bedtime routine. Once the little boys are in bed, I head out to the garage to give Alex's bike a tune up. He comes along for the chat time. We drink soda and talk and laugh and fix his bike.

10:15pm The tune up is complete and there are no more noises. Whew. I clean up and we head inside. Alex goes to bed. Bobby and Robert have gone to bed. I'm all alone for the first time today. All I want to do is sit quietly and work on my own planning and projects, grateful for the quiet and complete lack of interruption. The perpetual mental urgency of responsibility that I feel all day with my family quiets down. It's just me. Just my own wants and needs. I don't have to put them on hold or negotiate them with the other people and priorities I love. I sit down to write this post, amazed at everything that happened today, wanting to record the sheer volume of interactions and feelings I experienced in one single day, but my eyelids blink a little too long. My brain can't quite hold a thought long enough to compose a sensible sentence. I'm out of time. I save the unfinished blog post and go to bed. Am I disappointed? No. I'm proud of what I experienced today. I'm just plain worn out.

And so it begins...

Summer. 

Here we go again.

But, like always, it's different this year :)  The kids' ages and interests have changed. All of our needs have changed. It's almost re-inventing the wheel every year. 

Alex is working at the park district again at their nature camp. Loves it! They appreciate him so much more now that the head honcho has moved on to another job. Alex has also created an ambitious Kid Camp schedule at home for the days he's not working at nature camp. He'll be teaching Matthew swim lessons, too. 

Robert just wants to be comfortable at home and in charge of his own schedule. He likes having days with nothing to do.

James wants to do things and be out and about, but not with other people he doesn't know. Summer camps are pretty much torture. I have felt that way, too. I always liked the idea of camps and full-day activities as a kid, but the actual events had a lot of stuff I just didn't like...like loud people I didn't know and lots of random rules and mosquitos/heat and unclear expectations and unstructured social situations. So, James spends a lot of time asking if we can do this, that, or the other thing and then having to be patient or bored when the answer is "no" or "not yet." 

Matthew's mood has been a little volatile with the sudden schedule change. He's a little hard to read, but I think his ideal summer involves spontaneous activities and adventures that you chase down the second you think of them. 

I'm working at the bike shop 3 full days a week this summer. Pluses and minuses. I like that I get a break from one type of work to do something completely different. They're such different kinds of work!! Each one is a relief from the other.

So far this summer...

--James has attempted to teach Matthew how to mow the lawn.

--Robert has gotten a sunburn from playing pickleball with his friend one morning.

--Alex has biked to and from work every day.

--James purchased an enormous Nerf gun with his own money.

--Matthew has become a vegetarian. For reals.

--The little boys have read almost 2 days straight in an effort to complete the Summer Reading Programs for BOTH libraries in our area. These libraries offer some pretty sweet prizes.

--I've prepared gallons of strawberry freezer jam.

--We traveled to see the first brood of cicadas to have emerged this year.

--James helped me create a better bike repair shop space in the garage.

--I have decided that Pepsi tastes better than Coke and 7-Up is way tastier than Sprite.

Promotion Ceremonies

Our family attended James' 5th Grade Promotion Ceremony this evening. It was a party atmosphere. The vice principal gave a speech, the kids' names were called, they all got certificates and shook some hands, then the 5th grades sang a song that brought on a few adult tears and everyone got a free snow cone.

I asked Matthew why the principal didn't give a speech. He said she got a new job right after the school board announced our elementary school would house all of the dual-language programs in the district as of this fall, and all of the traditional (single language) students and teachers would be reassigned to other schools. It was a divisive decision by the school board. Not many families are happy about it. The change will save the school district $1 million a year. I'm unhappy about it, but in all honesty, the announcement was only the final straw. Our local classroom/school/district culture has degraded to the point that teachers and administrators burn out at an alarming rate. In the last 7 years, we've had 3 principals at the elementary school, 2 at the middle school, and 3 at the high school. One of them has been charged with embezzlement. Matthew had 3 different third grade teachers in the same classroom before Valentine’s Day. A quarter of the things he was meant to learn this yearIt's ridiculous. 

Robert didn't want us to attend his 8th Grade Promotion Ceremony. If you don't know Robert (or my relationship with Robert) very well, I will translate for you: "I understand this is a milestone, but I really don't care about celebrating it, and having family people mix with school people is very difficult for me. I know you adore me. You know I adore you. Not attending this event (and therefore avoiding a family/friend paradox and any  potentially embarrassing situations) is a demonstration of your love and respect for me as a human being with feelings (which can only be expressed in carefully curated ways dependent on the group of people I am currently with). Please."

He tells me he received 2 awards containing words like presidential, achievement, academic, award, and winner, but assures me 39 other people in his promotion class got the same.

All 4 kids will be attending new schools next year! And Robert will start early-morning seminary. 

It will be a new level of busy for our family. 

Lately, I've just felt like this is a really nice moment in our family story. We have more laughter and love floating around. Shared laughter. I like those sharing bits the best. Alex and Robert are so funny and real. James and Matthew are so curious and playful. I like to run errands with just Alex and the little boys. We play loud music, goof around, and laugh like we're drunk. They're great for road trips, these three. 

I like that 30 minutes every school morning after everyone else has gone and it's just me and Robert horsing around until he has to leave. He's funny and warm and silly and affectionate and sometimes we talk about hard things. 

I like those afternoons when Alex helps me make dinner or prep freezer jam or pull weeds. He's so confident and capable! I like his random texts and Marco Polos telling me something crazy about school.

I like it when James gives me a big, long hug. We can tease each other. I like how his eyes literally sparkle when he's got a great idea brewing. I like how he's always willing to run an errand with me, no matter how small, and if it's just me and him, sometimes we end up talking about real things: big questions, hard things, things not understood. He tells me patterns he's noticed. Sometimes we even design experiments to test his hypotheses.

I like it when Matthew puts his hand on my arm like he did when he was younger. He's not a snugly kid, generally, but sometimes when we're doing something together, he'll just put his hand on my arm and keep it there. Last night, he was scared at bedtime and ended up spending a little 1-on-1 time with me. I like his sweet company. I like the precocious expressions and dry humor he's developed as the 4th child. And he's full of that drive to have fun (safely), explore (with permission), and be with people (he loves). 

Quiet day at home

I'm taking a quiet day at home today. The last couple of weeks I've been over scheduled and under rested and I really, really feel it. There's just so much I need and want to do, gosh darn it!

Work is great. I still scratch my head now and then about co-worker stuff, and I have my share of frustrating work orders that can't seem to come out right...or on time...or both...but I still love it and I'm still learning.

I'm holding on to the garden, but it's starting to slip away from me. I forgot to bring in my pepper seedlings last week when a frost blew through the area and completely destroyed them. D'oh! I don't have much seed left. Maybe only a quarter of what I had planted earlier. It's no fun starting over. I might not.

The community garden has completely slipped from me this year. I grew 30 head lettuce seedlings over 2 months (Bobby's parents even cared for them while I was away!), and my co-managers put them in the community garden soon after I returned. Not a week later, almost all of them were eaten down to the soil by some short, herbivorous rodent species which shall remain nameless. All of that time and effort...gone. It's pretty demoralizing. We'll need to shore up our perimeter fence before I plant anything else out there. Lucky me, I no longer have 50 pepper plants to put out this week *sob*

So what on earth is taking so much of my time and attention?!

Bikes. 

And kids.

But lots of bikes.

Salt and Light ministries finally received their annual bike donation from the city. I've been fixing up bikes for S&L for a few months already, but a sudden drop of 50+ bikes is kinda overwhelming. Fortunately, the bikes are mostly in fair shape. They're currently stored in the back of their warehouse. I'm not sure when the powers that be will put them on the sales floor, but I'd like to improve as many as I can before then. There's a looming and unpredictable deadline. I have a former co-worker who looooooves these kinds of projects, but they're not responding to my texts.

The kids had no school on Earth Day, so James and I took some supplies to the warehouse and made 13 bikes safer and more rideable on the spot. That felt good. A few bikes were so freaky dangerous in their current state, though, that I didn't feel good leaving them there. What if someone puts it on the sales floor and someone else takes home a bike that was bound to send them to the hospital!? Not cool. James and I threw those in the van to work on at home. 

Later on Earth Day, the boys and I went for a bike ride on some little park trails in town. It was a leisurely 7 miles round-trip. Lots of stops for water features and exploration.

And then, in addition to these 50+ bikes that could go on the sales floor at any minute *eek*, the shop I work at had 9 abandoned bikes they wanted to get rid of, too. My manager knows about my project with S&L and offered them to me. Of course I said yes! Soooooo, I'm back to having 19 bikes in my garage waiting to be worked on.

And a fresh pile of mulch on the driveway that needs to be spread onto my perennial flower beds.

The boys still love the Landscape Recycling Center (and renting a truck to haul stuff with), but the novelty of helping me move all that mulch has certainly worn off.

And kids. 

A high school junior registering for community college courses to take his senior year. He's right on the cusp of adulting and discovering all the mixed feelings that come with that.

An 8th grader whose love language is akin to my own, yet so much louder and in-your-face. 

Love this kid!

A 5th grader starting to feel the weight of adolescent insecurity and awkwardness bearing down on him. Here comes middle school, here comes middle school, right down middle school lane. 

The boys ran some errands with me, including a trip to the garden center where there is a wide selection of concrete yard art for sale.

A 3rd grader who is fine until he's suddenly not and then he's fine and then it's the end of the world and he'll never be happy again and then it's the best day he's ever had and then he gets a feeling that he's going to get hurt soon and we all brush it off and then he falls out of his chair and gets hurt but it's okay this time because we could laugh it off...all in the course of one Sunday.

My 3rd grader!

Alex asked if he could work in the garage with me one evening. Not because he wanted to learn bike mechanics, but because he just wanted to spend time with me. He said that out loud. Well, I started to show him a few things, but he got wounded by a flat tire and decided to play the bike pump like a trombone instead.

Robert came out of his room last night in the throws of another migraine that was not fully tamed by the pain medication he had taken earlier. He asked if he could snuggle with me. 

I love having something about me that brings comfort to my kids. I also have things that drive them crazy and make them mad and embarrass them beyond reason *resigned sigh* but at least I have the comfort thing going for me.

Here, we're checking out the solar eclipse on April 8th. Totality was totally worth the drive. Such a surreal experience. 

It took a lot of courage for James to fast on Sunday. Bobby, the boys, and I were seeking inspiration on which school(s) the boys should attend next year. There's been a lot going on with our school district lately. James has struggled to fast in the past. He really can't stand to feel hungry. It's so, so hard for him. And he had been acting a little differently the last couple of weeks. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Anyway, he was able to fast. We talked about the things we thought and felt. Before breaking our fast, we all prayed silently in our own heads. Matthew said he felt good about his decision. James said he felt extreme happiness. I had felt promptings earlier that week at the temple and while we were learning about our options. And we all felt that sending the boys to a different school was the right thing to do. 

Later that evening, James asked if he and I could speak in private. He tearfully let me know that something I had done earlier that week seemed out of character for me and affected the comfort/safety he had felt at home. I knew exactly what he was talking about, agreed that it was a mistake, and apologized with a quiet determination to never do it again. Then he gave me a hug and we talked more about the other things on his mind. The things that had caused him to behave a little differently lately. There's a reason I don't share as much about James as I do about the other kids. He doesn't share as much about himself. That talk inspired me to find new ways to connect with James. The connection techniques that work so well with the others aren't nearly as effective with him. Time to adjust. Again. 

While looking up photos for this post, I found a few pictures from our trip that I want to share:

Tart Cherry Poppyseed Strudel in Austria. Yuuuuuuuuum. I got to share this and a slice of apricot pie with both Bobby and my mom. 

On the bus to another great tour destination!

My first taste of Almdudler soda. We were on an e-bike tour in Austria.

There was a safety drill one morning. Everyone got into their life jackets and assembled in the lounge for roll call. 

Two more tidbits

I went into the middle school office this week for some paperwork. They asked which grade my child was in and then his name. As soon as I said "Robert", the woman said, "Oh! Robert! Of course." Then, when the school counselor came down to deliver it, she talked about Robert as if she personally knew him. I was befuddled. How could office personnel and a school counselor assigned to hundreds of 8th graders not only recognize my child's name but act like they liked him? I was too curious to keep it to myself. I asked the counselor, "How do you know Robert?" She looked at me a little weirdly and said, "I'm his school counselor." 

"Yes, I know, but you have hundreds of kids assigned to you. How do you remember Robert in particular?"

"Oh! He's one of the higher performing students," she nodded, "And when I substitute in the classroom, I try to get to know everyone. Robert is just fun."

My confused look prompted her further...

"And I'm a lunch monitor, too. I see him every day and we know each other. He's so funny."

There you go, folks. The boy who regularly grouches at his unbearably annoying younger siblings AND aims to blend in and not get noticed by his peers somehow feels comfortable enough around his friends and teachers to show his funny and smart and just plain fun side. I love that side. I'm glad he shares it.

****************************************

Since getting home Sunday evening, I've been searching for my notebook. It's a tiny little notebook where I keep track of the bikes I'm refurbishing and all the repairs lined up for each one. I have 15 bikes in our garage right now in various states of disrepair and a pile of new parts ready to be installed, but only the notebook knows what goes where. I've been searching for that thing for days! This morning, I got desperate/creative and looked in places it really shouldn't be. Then, in a moment, it suddenly occurred to me that I could pray for help. Why didn't that occur to me 4 days ago?! As soon as the idea struck, I saw my notebook. There it was in plain sight but not where it was supposed to be. What a tender mercy. Of course I offered a heartfelt prayer of gratitude and shouted through the house with glee. Everyone was off to school and work except Robert. He raised only an eyebrow and then went back to whatever he was working on. I would have been okay without that notebook. I could have started a new notebook and figured it all out again. I didn't have to, though, and that was tender mercy.

Can't wait to get back to work!