Reasons Like Seasons

It is unclear who started it. Ian (10) has the advantage, but Evan (6) is ruthless. He will use weapons: nerf guns, wooden swords. Shields as offensive objects. And there is no stopping them. This one screams, this one yells. This one crawls on top of the other one and claims that everything is fine. Ian yells, "Stop! I am going to hurt you!" I believe him. "You are not the boss of me!" is the response. I don't know about you, but if someone was standing above me with a sword, I would pretty much listen to what they had to say. "You can't beat me," he says. I think that maybe he can. May you and yours be well or better.

My children eat socks. They simply disappear. Evaporate into the void. There is no end to their wanting. So, I ordered socks. I ordered the same packs I have bought three or four times before. Medium whites for the little one and large black for the big one. He will only wear black socks. The 16 year old goth in me appreciates the gesture. I tried to wake the boys up at nine today and was somewhat successful. Ian went happily along his way after my Economics Live Lesson from 10 to 11, but Evan would not be moved. I hid the tablet and my Switch, but he would not go to daycare. Instead, he basically bothered me all day while I tried to work. Everything went really slowly. I had an important meeting at 3:30, so I let him have the tablet then. I didn't want him showing up on camera while I was in my Summer School interview. Me teaching Summer School will pay for their camp experience. I really need this job. Feel free to send good thoughts into the universe for me. School day over, I w

I went into the world today. I drove all the way to my therapist's office, in person, and picked up some sample medication. Then, be forewarned this is crazy, I picked up Thai food from an actual restaurant. They had all the tables piled up in front to make a barrier to stop people and viruses from attacking their pad thai, and that was weird, but they were also selling discount beer, so that was cool. Except, it was not cool, so I didn't buy any. Home again, home again, the boys complained that I only bought two orders of pad see ewe. This is where the whole only speak if you have something nice to say comes into effect. I have nothing nice to say. May you and yours be well or better.

I would love to write a creative post today. Something meaningful and universal about parenting or living one's best life during the Corona virus. But I got nothing. I went to work, Ian went to camp, and Evan bothered me for most of the day because he wasn't having daycare and I have no sticks or carrots. Matt came home; I cooked three different dinners. Watched a cool video of some sailors playing catch with a beluga whale. That's it. Case closed. May you and yours be well or better.

Ian (10) is watching YouTube and playing games on his Switch. Evan (6) is watching Minecraft videos, also on YouTube. Evan is louder than Ian. I am switching between Facebook and Amazon Prime history videos. No one is going to sleep.

I had the most exciting day. I actually drove the car. I left my tiny universe of home, school, and Trader Joe's and embarked on a marvelous journey. My expectations for life are dangerously low these days. Evan woke up at seven. SEVEN. I did not like this plan. Seven am and Saturday do not belong in the same sentence. I somehow got him settled with his tablet, and I was able to go back to sleep. Thank the earth for small miracles. A much more appropriate 9:30 rolled in, and I found Evan dead asleep with his tablet running in his hand. I guess seven WAS too early for everyone involved. I could have told you that myself. Because there is no eating out right now, we have made a habit of getting take out breakfast on Saturdays. This week was my turn. I offered the option of locations: McDonald's or Carl's Jr. My expectation that four people could agree on one restaurant was met with whole hearted disapproval. Unwilling to press my point, I made an ungodly list of breakfast ite

When this is over, I am taking a day off of work. I will wake up whenever it suits me, then take the boys to camp in whatever random clothing they happen to put on. I will put on my headphones, listen to Outlander, and walk a mile to Hangouts. I will order eggs Benedict with spinach instead of Canadian bacon and several, several mimosas. I will eat it all alone without anyone asking me to prepare more food or fetch them water. Belly full, I will walk the mile back to my apartment and across the street to the nail salon. I will sit in the massage chair while someone makes my toe nails beautiful. I will bask in the hot stone massage. I will tip lavishly. I will wear my flip flops home and carry my shoes. Once home, I will read or watch Netflix. I will not feel guilty for sending my children to camp because they have only seen like four other people for months. I will enjoy my time alone. I will cook dinner before I pick them up, and it will be ready before they get home. They will both e

I have been typing Ian's (10) homework because he complains that his typing is too slow, which is painfully true. I emailed his teacher, and he said that they have a district provided typing game, Typing Instructor. Ian is not impressed. First of all, there are like eleven sign in levels before he can start the game. Not a great start. Then, the graphics and interface of the game are from 1994. Not getting better. Typer Shark of my youth was better. Or at least that's how I remember it. On first attempt, he presses all the keys as fast as he can, for a high words per minute score and a low score for accuracy. He does this several times. Ire rising. Success not forthcoming. Then, he tries for real. 92% accuracy and 12 WPM. The goal is 90% and 20 WPM. Boy continues to be unhappy. Several more lightning rounds ensue, so I tell him he needs to take a break. He disagrees. I insist. It went worse than it sounds. I pry the chrome book from his hands, grab the Switch from the bed, and

Got up. Made and drank some tea. Went to a training on Emotional Intelligence. Graded some things. Woke up the boys. Evan was mad that the internet wasn't working on his tablet, so I convinced him to play on my phone while I made lunches. Evan has been demanding Ian's lunchbox, and Ian has been equiminious enough to tolerate Evan's unicorn lunchbox. Thank goodness for small favors. Evan got pita chips, hummus, salami and cucumber. Ian got tortilla chips and two kiwi. There doesn't seem to be any protein that Ian will eat in his lunch, so I just give him what I know he will eat. One must pick one's own battles. "Evan, do you want pants or shorts?" "Shorts." Excellent. This will come back to haunt me. Shoes on, bags packed, we are out the door. We get the bike, we walk outside. It is a beautiful, sunny day. All is well with the world. Evan screams, "My legs are freezing!" "Baby, you said you wanted shorts." "I can't go

For some miraculous but unknown reason, my body knew it had to go back to work today and woke me up at 7:15. Made some tea and checked email. Far too many things to grade. Prepped for AVID Live Lesson. Ian (10) woke up around nine and wanted to go to Rainbow (his daycare) right away, but Evan (6) wasn't awake yet. Ian solved that problem promptly and the normal chaos of dressing, bathroom going, and lunch packing ensued. We got half way to school when Evan lamented that we had forgotten his bicycle, so Ian marched ahead to Rainbow and I went back to the bike locker with Evan to fetch his bike. Fetching, walking, signing in and returning complete, I finished preping for class and attacked the queue of grading. Some progress was made before class, which went well. We did some data entry house cleaning and watched this awesome TED talk by George Takei. It was about Japanese internment and Japanese-American fighters in World War II. I highly recommend it. What with the way of life thes

I don't think Ian, Evan, or I left the apartment today. Matt went to McDonald's and got breakfast because Evan declared that is what happens on Sunday, which is usually right as we normally stop at "Old McDonald's" on the way to church. I did go to virtual church, which celebrated Earth Day, but I didn't sing along with any of the songs because it feels weird to sing out loud alone in my apartment while the males are all doing their things. After church, there was a Lydon family Zoom session, and that went well enough. Much screen time was passed after that, although I did get Ian to narrate a journal entry which I typed for him. He has yet to do any math. I told Matt that he was allowed some joy in this life, and he asked where to find it. I said he had to make his own, and he had no further comment. I spent most of the evening coloring and listening to history lectures. Tomorrow I go back to work, so wish me luck. Working, parenting, and taking care of the h

Everyone survived. Two boys, one man, a lady. Quarantine success. My dinner was bad. I didn't know what I had. My sauce was not good. I wish I could rhyme.  That would be something fancy. I'll be there in time. This will not get old. Writing is good for your mind. Blogging for myself. My glasses are fogged. I can't see to look around. My new mask I blame. My cat, Ten, is black. She does whatever she wants  I take care of her. The haiku poem Is highly underrated. I want to write more. Day I do not know Of the awful quarantine  600 hours. I have in my house A small decorative bird. He came from Target. Oh,Target! How I Miss your sales and food. We will meet again.

I just finished listening to The Pioneers by David McCullough, read by John Bedford Lioyd. It detailed the settlement and growth of Murrietta, Ohio, starting in the 1700s through about 1860. Following the lives of several prominent families, it painted a vivid picture of life on the frontier. It was,  as all my experiences with David McCullough have been, an interesting and enjoyable read.

Did you watch Unorthodox?  I worked at an orthodox Jewish school for five years. And that show spoke to me. I highly recommend it.

I haven't written since 2015? Man, time flies. Now, my children are 6 and 10, and boy, I like 10 better than six. Six has issues. He doesn't like being told that he is in the wrong. He doesn't like when screen time goes away. He throws things. He threatens my work computer. He cries until he almost throws up. It is ugly. No one is happy. Ten is pretty cool. He does most of what is asked of him and plays video games quietly when it is time to rest. He writes interesting journal entries. I am in love with ten. Here is to remembering that six only lasts a year. Here is to the memory of two when I spent all of my time half bent over. Here is to no more diapers. Here is to the hope of functioning adults.