Warm hugs (Celebrating Kelvin)

It's been a particularly challenging time around these parts. We are again engulfed with falling ashes, smoky air, terrible air quality, and nearby fires, knowing friends who have had to evacuate their homes and towns. We had an unscheduled power outage last night (with probable more scheduled ones coming) due to the fire risks. I have a lot of pre-election anxiety that is heightened at the moment, making it hard to concentrate or relax. I've started to get an ulnar neuropathy and wrist tendinitis from so much electronic work, typing, and clicking in the electronic medical record (with a wrist brace on its way and some new ergonomic "beanbag"-like mouse pads at my work desks). 

However, today we celebrate Kelvin's birthday. It's not a milestone birthday, nor did we really have anything "planned," as it's just another weekday/workday in COVID times, but it is certainly in a year we'll all remember. I'm not sure if I've mentioned it previously on this blog, but he was also recently promoted to Chief Medical Officer of our Community Health Center (and has led its COVID-response albeit not without new gray hair), which is quite an achievement at still-under-40, and an additional something to celebrate.

He's notoriously hard to shop for, but I found an Etsy shop that makes likeness bobbleheads, so that's what he got for his office (with the base including his new title, but without the added gray hair).  He asked the boys to "sleep in" until 6:45 this past weekend as his gift from them, and while I think Iver said, "Can't I make you a really nice card instead?" (as greeting cards in cursive are his specialty and this kid hates to sleep!), they really tried to make it happen-- we could see the boys on the webcam snuggling in bed together for 20+ minutes after they actually woke up!

Lori, the administrator at K's clinic, sent him this Olaf picture in honor of the notorious non-hugger (even in non-socially distanced times)! A hug would be the last thing this guy would want for his birthday!

So if you see him, wish Kelvin a very happy Corona cumpleaños and give him a virtual hug, which is the only hug he'd find acceptable anyway!

Very important toddler work

 

This video is a reminder that toddlers imitate everything.  I am doing my best to model strength, kindness, and resilience despite the tumult of this year and my internalized stress. Looking back on this video in a few years will remind us of how much we all-- and our kids-- have been asked to "grow up." May we all grow in a positive direction, even when it seems we are slaves to computers and technology at the moment.

R.I.P., R.B.G.

                             

I heard the news late on Friday afternoon that feminist icon and revered Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg (RBG) had died at age 87.

I have never been one to be struck too much by celebrities' deaths, even when premature (this year included notable deaths of Kobe Bryant, Chadwick Boseman, and and the great John Lewis). I've always understood that, while they were people, with families, careers, and notable contributions (and sympathized with their loved ones left on earth), their passings didn't affect my life in any meaningful ways or cause me much personal pain or anxiety. However, yesterday's death of "Notorious" RBG felt quite different and weighty, a literal gut-punch, given the status of our country right now and all the fear and grief that has come with the damage caused by the party of DJT, and the dread of the possibility of another four years of his (and their) terrible policies, favoritism, and hijacking of the justice system (and/or elections) including conservative court-packing to hold on to power when the demographics and viewpoint trends are not going their way (remember, more than 50% of voters in this county voted for the other presidential candidate in 2016).  

Foreshadowing via text in June, when my sister-in-law, Lisa mailed me RBG "Dissent Collar" earrings....

Prior to 2016, I (like many progressives, who now can't fathom our complacency especially during the Obama years) had not paid that much attention to the makeup of the Supreme Court or its implications. On the other hand, across the aisle, ruthless Mitch McConnell and the Republican party blocked a hearing for Obama's 2016 nominee Merrick Garland for almost a year, waiting until after the election (a gamble, which obviously paid off), using the promise of delivering a "pro-life justice" to get otherwise moral, caring people to vote for the monster that is our current White House occupant.  Despite how "apolitical" the Supreme Court is supposed to be, it has become clear that everything is political, because power and the power to change things (ideally for the better as progressives would argue) is everything.

  

In a time where right-winger Neil Gorsuch, who currently occupies the stolen seat, might become the swing vote on the highly anti-democratic conservative court (one which doesn't reflect the viewpoints and demographics of this more progressive country), and in which the worst president we've ever had and his cronies in the Senate might push through his third right-wing extremist justice for a lifetime appointment (out of nine, including one probable rapist) in one terrible four-year term, with just forty-five days until the 2020 election (in truly jaw-dropping yet still unsurprising hypocrisy), I just can't stop feeling so incredibly angry and literally sick.  I worry about women everywhere, about people losing their health insurance afforded under the ACA, about Roe vs. Wade being overturned and reversion to the days of back-alley abortions, about minorities (and everyone who isn't straight, white, male, and conservative), and about the future of this country for my young children. I despair the partisan de-legitimization of the last check and balance of power in our country, which will change the trajectory of our legal system for generations and reverse decades of progress which has left the vast majority of our citizens so much better off. I wish I could tell my sons that liars and cheaters never prosper, but I'm having a hard time believing it in these times with who is leading us.

Despite my privileges (a job, income, and savings, health and health insurance, childcare, a stable family), I am having a hard time wondering if things could get worse this year (and know that it certainly could, with the looming most consequential election in my lifetime ahead of us in fewer than two months). I am waking up at 3 and 4 a.m. with nightmares, panic, and dread. The daily hum of irritability, compounding an already-tough year with COVID-19, clinic tech-exhaustion, Zoom-kindergarten, local wildfires, and pandemic parenting, clouds each day. I have election pre-TSD, and am trying to stay off the news and Facebook leading up to November. I just don't know how much more grief and fear of injustice we (I) can take or how I can actually be hopeful when things seem so hopeless, despite praying for joy to come in the morning.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg was a remarkable woman. She was a devoted wife of fifty-four years to Marty (who died a decade ago and was an incredibly supportive spouse in a time when it wasn't the norm for men to champion and prioritize their wives' careers), a mother and grandmother, a lover of the arts, a talented lawyer, and a champion of women (and the oppressed) everywhere. Hearing about the way she was able to navigate Harvard Law School as one of only nine women in her class of over five hundred, and how she paved the way for outlawing discrimination on the basis of sex in the workplace has and will continue to inspire Americans for generations to come. Despite her truly diminutive figure and soft-spoken nature, she truly was a larger-than-life hero for women (and particularly working mothers) everywhere and, with her strategic incrementalism, was a giant of influence, winning battle after battle advancing the cause of social justice. Should she, an octogenarian cancer survivor, have stepped down from the highest court in the land during the early Obama years so that she could have been succeeded by a like-minded liberal justice?  Maybe. But she felt called to continue to serve her country as was her patriotic duty (for twenty-seven years on the Supreme Court), believing she would live to see us elect and celebrate the first female president in our nation's history (which would have been a fitting and amazing culmination of her life's work, although it obviously didn't pan out), and, when that didn't happen, tried to hang on doing her good and very important work until we had another "good guy" in the White House in 2020 (she even verbalized this as one of her deathbed wishes). Because she fought to the bitter end, we must continue to revere her (and to not give up hope either despite our deep grief and moral injury).  

Ruth's family and friends, as well as the country and world, have suffered an enormous loss. But Ruth (who surely deserves to rest) would have wanted us to keep on fighting, even when it seemed the outcome was not guaranteed to be favorable and the deck was stacked against us, until, in death, we physically cannot fight anymore. We must do all that we can until what is right and good and just prevails, even if we are so, so tired. If we have a Democratic White House and Senate, I feel it's entirely reasonable as some have proposed to expand the court and add a number of Supreme Court justices in order to right the balance of wrongs, because if one side has to cheat because they don't believe they can maintain power in free and fair elections or follow the rules, the other side needs to play hardball, too and not just rely on traditional "norms," which are a thing of the past (as one expert put it, "we can't bring cotton candy as our weapon to a knife fight.") Or add the whole Obama family. Because we are now Ruth-less, we must be RUTHLESS to protect her legacy. Today, we mourn. Tomorrow, we fight like hell.

  When great trees fall,

rocks on distant hills shudder,

lions hunker down

in tall grasses,

and even elephants

lumber after safety.

When great trees fall

in forests,

small things recoil into silence,

their senses

eroded beyond fear.

When great souls die,

the air around us becomes

light, rare, sterile.

We breathe, briefly.

Our eyes, briefly,

see with

a hurtful clarity.

Our memory, suddenly sharpened,

examines,

gnaws on kind words

unsaid,

promised walks

never taken.

Great souls die and

our reality, bound to

them, takes leave of us.

Our souls,

dependent upon their

nurture,

now shrink, wizened.

Our minds, formed

and informed by their

radiance,

fall away.

We are not so much maddened

as reduced to the unutterable ignorance

of dark, cold

caves.

And when great souls die,

after a period peace blooms,

slowly and always

irregularly. Spaces fill

with a kind of

soothing electric vibration.

Our senses, restored, never

to be the same, whisper to us.

They existed. They existed.

We can be. Be and be

better. For they existed.

- Maya Angelou, When Great Trees Fall 

Never too young to learn presidential history

 Iver and Niall adore the music from Hamilton, which has spurred a curiosity about American and presidential history including some of the early players. 

There is a Curious George book that features Mt. Rushmore, and after only a reading or two, Niall (2.5) has the order of presidents down! (He also knows that Aaron Burr shot Hamilton. Maybe kids actually do listen to "teacher" parents!).

We are so hoping and praying for the election of a president this year that we can be proud of.  We don't ever want to talk about 45 in this house or want to explain to our kids how some people in this country thought it was a good idea to vote for him.  We want him and this terrible era to be ancient American history. We miss Barack Obama so much and wish Joe Biden could take over now with Kamala Harris by his side.  Fingers crossed for November and our the future of our country (one we hope to be proud of again one day).

Dental smiles

The boys had dental cleanings last week. Niall has always done really well at the dentist (and maybe it's just age, but having him along has made Iver, with whom I struggled for several years just to even get in the door, also handle visits very well).

On the way to the office, I told Niall they'd be asking him if he brushes his teeth regularly and asked him what he'd respond with. He said, "I'm going to say 'No!'" (No is a favorite word around these two-year-old parts).

When the hygienist finished polishing and was painting his teeth with fluoride, she asked Niall if he liked its taste.  He responded, totally seriously, with "That tastes like vomit," which made us all laugh out loud through our masks.    

 

The pandemic positives (still COVID-negative)

I have to be honest that I've been struggling a bit lately with "how the world is."

COVID is not going away anytime soon in our country, despite the devastation and sacrifices that most of us have made in last six months. We had a bit of a scare last week with Iver waking up febrile/coughing, leading to him getting COVID-tested and us struggling with the dominoes that would occur for our other son, daycare, and workplaces (and weekend OB call) were we to actually be exposed or test positive (thankfully, he tested negative and bounced back really quickly, but it was a preview of what our year will look like overreacting to every cold and struggling with the logistics and ethics of calling out of work in healthcare due to possible respiratory illness in any one of us four).

ZOOM kindergarten (administered by daycare) feels absolutely awful for me (more harmful than no KG, in my opinion) and I'm feeling a lot of frustration about having to help Iver complete busy-work type assignments like sorting random items for "math" and watching more video clips in the hours after work (which really takes away from quality time), and pressure to somehow enrich his learning (especially for Spanish language, in which he is supposed to be immersed) which is not happening remotely effectively by Zoom. While I know that the teachers are just doing their best at not having this be a totally lost year, this time is stressful and incredibly painful for working parents who do not know how and do not have the time, energy, patience, or desire to be effective home-school teachers "on the side" along with parenting other children (and just getting through the long, busy days of our own "essential" work).

California (and Oregon) is on fire (again). Even in coastal Humboldt, our air and skies are hazy, and the orange sun in a martian-like sky is eerily glowing through the ash that rains down in flurries on our cars and homes. I can smell the smoke through my mask. The fires are less than100 miles away from us. We have bags packed in case of a need for evacuation.

This is not my photo but is what our sun and sky has looked like the past few days. Niall asks us throughout the day, "Is it nighttime?"

Golden Sun atop World's Largest Totem Pole in McKinleyville

Here's a professional photo of the Carson mansion in Eureka, about 13 miles south of us.  The sky has really looked like this.

I am very nervous about the upcoming election-- that somehow vote suppression, president-led debauchery, and/or a not optimally functioning postal service will deliver the current White House occupant another electoral college victory (or that, even if he loses when the final votes are counted after election day due to vote-by-mail, he refuses to leave office).  I grieved and felt the most hopeless I've felt in my lifetime following the election in 2016, and here we are facing four more years of him as well as all of these additional challenges in 2020.

I have had to try to dig deep to try to find some "positives" amidst all this chaos and pain.  Here's my best attempt at trying to find some "quarantine blessings" or things that, had we not had this crazy 2020 year, we may not have experienced.

Outdoor dinners and backyard time
We've had warm, dry weather for most of the summer (climate change is obvious here in a usually cool and rainy climate, hence the fires raging above). During these past six months, we have had many a meal outside on our deck, which was a nice "quarantine tradition." The kids have spent hundreds of hours puttering in the yard, "catching" butterflies, and riding bikes/walking around our neighborhood.

Neighborhood ducks

Family bonding
Without any weekend socializing or seeing any other family, our family of four has become really tight knit.  The boys are now sharing a room well and actually play well together, loving on eachother a lot. Never being at ease "staying home" with young kids, I've actually embraced the prolonged time (on weekends) with my two boys, who have really matured (weekends, particularly long ones, used to feel more stressful and harder than my usual work-week). Iver, who has always challenged us with his hard-fought battles, has matured into a helpful and much more flexible and rational being.  He is energetic, smart, kind, and funny, and I'm loving the age/stage he is right now. Niall, who admittedly has become a bit more defiant half-way into his "twos" and less "easy" than he was as an infant, is also a really funny, communicative and sweet little guy who keeps us all smiling.

Quarantine piano
I had been contemplating buying a home piano for some time, but had it not been for expected prolonged time at home indoors, I may not have taken the plunge this year to purchase the keyboard as I did in July.  I wish I had more time/energy to play (and that lessons for Iver would be safe), but having it nearby to even tinker with a few times per week has brought me a lot of joy.

Cooking at home
With more time around the house, Kelvin has taken up the cooking on weekends around here, leaving me far less burdened about feeding our family of four. He's even been watching Youtube links and has perfected some very tasty Asian dishes, including Pad See Ew from scratch. I am really loving the more equitable division of labor in the food department (me doing the meal planning and weekday cooking, and him doing the grocery shopping, weekend cooking, and the packing of kids' lunches).

A slow-paced life without plans
I have always been someone who thrives on task-completion, productivity, and efficiency and have always loved the orderliness of planning. This year has really helped me become more comfortable with the "unknowns." With no trips to plan, and nowhere to really go, I've become far better at just "being," relaxing, and living the slow life hunkered down at home (ever the introvert, I actually don't miss at all the pressure to attend various social gatherings, although I do miss face-to-face time with a few friends). Instead of constantly thinking "I should do x, y, or z," I've been far better about giving myself permission to doing what I want to do when given the time and space to relax. I've read a ton of great books. I've caught up on some totally frivolous Netflix series (New Girl was the most recent one that I really enjoyed) that I never had much time for in the past.  I didn't feel at all guilty about watching hours of U.S. Open tennis this past weekend.  We all need calming, enjoyable things to take our minds of the grind of work especially in the field of healthcare these days and in such troubled times.  I hope that I will continue to do more guilt-free "relaxing" going forward, even when this pandemic is behind us.

What joy have you unexpectedly "discovered" during COVID times? What positivity will you carry forward in your life?

Pandemic Pear Picking

Friends of ours have a backyard full of pear trees, apple trees, blackberry, and huckleberry bushes, and they let the boys come over to do some outdoor fruit picking last weekend.

We missed out on local blueberry picking this year (apparently the farm we've gone to in past years was open, but we missed it this season), but how great is it to have friends with their own bushes/trees with bounty to share?!