First lost tooth!

 

Iver has been wiggling his left lower central incisor for a few weeks now. It was hanging by a thread... until this past Thursday.  We had been reading lots of library books about lost teeth in recent weeks.  I had no idea that some countries have traditions about throwing lost teeth on the roof (as one book title stated!) or feeding them to pet dogs... (I have only heard of visits from the tooth fairy). He was a bit nervous to have it fall out at night (as heard that kids can swallow their teeth), even wanting to "tape it in" like Fancy Nancy did.

Nevertheless, the tooth finally came out (precisely at 12:31 p.m. he told me, while he was eating a burrito at "school" on Thursday February 25th at age six and two months). His right lower central incisor is mildly wiggly and might be next, but it'll probably be a while before it's also out.

I didn't know what the "going rate" was for the tooth fairy at this time. Not having used cash in ages, we randomly decided on a flat $1 for this first tooth (while I seem to recall only nickels, dimes, or possibly quarters back in my childhood day).  We haven't really done any "allowances" yet for Iver, nor is he (especially in pandemic times) involved with watching money be exchanged in stores, so I'm not sure how much he knows/appreciates about the value of money or what he'd try to "save for," but maybe it's time to start teaching all of these concepts, and turn this loss into a gain. 

In a year in which we've had so many losses, this was one to celebrate. 

Back-to-the-Playground Joy (a baby step to the "after-times"?)

The kids have been asking for a little while if they could go to a "park" or a "playground."  We truly are so lucky in that we have a lot of other open spaces locally for kids to roam and play outdoors (especially when the weather is nice), so the loss of access to public playgrounds during this COVID-19 pandemic hasn't felt like a huge blow for us (adults), but we have kept away since last March. The kids have small play areas at their childcare schools but nothing with slides or big jungle gyms. I heard that many of the local playgrounds had been closed (even marked off with tape) early in the pandemic, but we actually didn't know the current *rules* of whether going to one was "okay."  

I definitely know families across the U.S. who have been going to playgrounds regularly, and never thought they were being COVID-unsafe.  Since I believe that elementary schools should have stayed open this whole time, and that children can play outdoors (including with other kids, masked and/or socially distant) relatively safely, I didn't have a huge personal objection to our kids playing at one; however, we're not sure how many other kids would be there (or if they'd be able to keep masks on reliably), and we weren't sure we felt comfortable... yet.  We drove by Pierson Park (near the library) a few weeks ago, but Kelvin felt there were too many kids to let Iver/Niall play there at that time.  

This weekend, we went back to Greenview Park, one of our favorite parks in Arcata, which had a "mask" sign and a few (and mask-wearing) children, so we let them play there for about 45 minutes.

Oh, the joy.  Iver was thrilled to be back on the monkey bars, at which, this time last year, he was getting great.  Niall loved going down the "bumpy" slide and climbing the rope webs. It was so special to see their excitement about something that, as kids, they'd sadly seen for nearly twelve months as "forbidden” due to this darned virus in this country, and it was so worth it.

My friend Kellie told me about another quiet, neighborhood park on Felix Ave. that she frequents in the mornings with her young kids, and we checked that one out on Sunday. There were zero other kids, and the boys had a true blast on all the play equipment which felt like such a treat for them, having been deprived for nearly a year (we, of course, sanitized hands right afterwards).

Teetering

 King of the swing!

(He tried the "big boy" swing but preferred the "baby" one).

As more adults become vaccinated (we are so thankful to have gotten our shots) and with how long this pandemic has been going (and likely how long this virus will continue to be with us), it's interesting to see how we make decisions and interpret "levels" of risk with which we're comfortable. As things gradually open up and when things aren't entirely off limits, it's hard to know what is "reasonable," "okay," and what you may be judged for (regardless of how "safe" it seems). There is a whole book about "the psychology of pandemics," which I hope to read sometime. However, while we all have to follow hard rules and we are still committed to using our risk budgets wisely, we also recognize that, for our family, it may be time to start venturing out in small steps and starting to resume some semblance of normalcy by opening up our worlds a little bit, when the magnitude of the reward exceeds the theoretical harm.  We are nowhere close to ready to going to a restaurant, church, on a plane, or congregating with unvaccinated family members (yet).  However, playgrounds may be our family's first baby step at re-entry into a post-pandemic world.  We are so ready.

Pandemic Parents need a hug (and a break)

 

I am wishing all my fellow "Pandemic Parents" out there some extra energy and motivation this week. Like many people, I truly have been hitting a bit of a pandemic parenting wall recently, as we approach a year of living "this way."  The NPR podcast interviewing one of the authors of the NYT "Primal Scream" series really hit on the struggles that often hit moms/women most. Kids need other social outlets and some organized led-by-others activities. We are not designed to be (all the time) authority figures/friends/educators/entertainers and full-time working and functioning adults. We need a village, and it has not been there (in person). Kids' mental health and behaviors have also become harder to deal with the longer this pandemic drags on (and, naturally, our own patience and resilience suffers, too. I’ve definitely been guilty of screaming at home to the point of hoarseness when I am usually the more calm and patient parent). 

My biggest continued frustration is the reluctance of our local public school to open (a few in the area are opening for part-time K-3 school this week and I'm hopeful that overcoming this fear and inertia will encourage our tiny school to take the leap ASAP). Pandemic/supplemental homeschooling after my "day job" is a responsibility that I continue to resent deeply (and which is not shared equally among parents in our house, like in many homes, despite my having a pretty "woke" and feminist-ally husband).  The dynamic of parents supervising the education of/teaching children is not one that is comfortable nor reasonable for most families (especially with a bright, opinionated, easily bored, easily distracted and strong-willed child like we have, along with an energetic toddler sibling at home).  Elementary school is undoubtedly essential while virtual learning is horrendous (and bad for kids), and I am constantly frustrated that finding a way to appropriately educate our nation's children (including vaccinating teachers which, while important, is not a pre-requisite for having in-person school in my opinion as well as the CDC's) has not been a priority in this country. (Locally, we are in an extremely low-COVID area and have been for the year. Teachers have been offered their shots. There is no evidence-based reason that local elementary schools should not be opened immediately and in my estimation should have been open this whole school year).  The reluctance for many of our local teachers to jump in and do their job, and which is completely out of my control, really has no definite end point, and which comes at the cost to a generation of children, is beyond maddening.  I feel like I can "cope" with everything else this pandemic has thrown at us, but the educational burden feels like one that is regularly too much to bear for this healthcare worker mom and social justice warrior, and has cost my school’s educators a lot of my respect going forward. Maybe, in the end, "the kids will be alright." But maybe they actually won't (and we parents or some of us as family units won't). 

I really needed to hear from my "virtual friends," the Moms at the What Fresh Hell podcast, which did a great episode last week on the fact that "Moms are not okay." Sometimes, it feels like everyone else is adjusting well to pandemic life (having so much time to bake bread and learn new languages or instruments) and getting the hang of this, and I'm the only one struggling and angry for change and progress (I have had nightmares that public school has decided to not ever open and that private, virtual school, or homeschooling will be the *new ways* of the future). I hate that my stress explodes as bursts of rage directed at my family (because it’s not professional to scream at patients or coworkers at work!), but I know I’m not alone.  Listening to this episode was so validating, like a big hug through this hardest of seasons, and I urge all moms (or parents) about to lose their minds to check it out.

(The above statement is not entirely true. Iver, a terrible sleeper in the past, now sleeps very well but is far more challenging in many other ways. Niall [the easy baby] has started to push the bedtime battles a bit and I'm wondering if he will be dropping his nap in the near future, which would devastate Kelvin, who likes to nap at the same time on weekends, but may help him fall asleep better in the evening without a fight). Sleep struggles are among the hardest things I find about parenting. I so long for a bedtime-battle-free night when someone else can get the kids to sleep!  WE WANT AND NEED A NIGHT OFF!!

It sure would be nice to have a grandparent involved/present enough in person to comment on the behavior of our kids these days, even as irritating as it sometimes can be to be judged (/guided) how *best* to raise them, because some kids are more challenging than others and truly have to be parented in specific ways.  I don't think many people (especially non-parents-of-young-kids) truly "get" how incredibly difficult it is to be a good and stable parent to such kids (especially through a pandemic) when your own cup feels so empty a lot of the time. 

I miss having a village.

Sigh. 

Until then, I will have to make the most of my virtual chats and parenting/mom podcasts. Too bad the NYT primal scream hotline is no longer active— I’ll have to settle for screaming at my bedroom wall (at least that’s better than at my spouse or children).

Ma-le'l Dunes-South

This pandemic year, we discovered some neat local stretches of sand and coastline to explore (often on Sundays, which I call our "Sabbath Sands").  Whereas we recently used a sled for snow-sledding, sand-sledding on dunes is also really fun for the kids (and hiking on sand is a workout!).

We checked out Ma-le'l Dunes (southern portion, where dogs [and horses] are allowed) this past Sunday morning, when we had some lovely weather.  I actually enjoyed this southern walk a bit more than the northern section we first checked out in January. 

There were half-pipe-like swathes of dunes for sledding (Niall skipped the sled and just slid down in his clothes...).

Kids wearing tank tops in February just blows my mind (it really is not "warm" out!), but I guess they were pretty active running and climbing. 

Some beach "treasures"-- shells and a jellyfish carcass!

We are loving these dunes and I'm sure will be back soon! 

Bigfoot and Little Bear: A Walk in the Redwoods

“To sustain an environment suitable for man, we must fight on a thousand battlegrounds. Despite all of our wealth and knowledge, we cannot create a redwood forest, a wild river, or a gleaming seashore. But we can keep these we have.” — Lyndon B. Johnson, February 23, 1966

We have been here in this (literal) neck of the woods so long (nearly ten years) that sometimes we take for granted our majestic surroundings. Some of these coastal redwood trees (Sequoia sempervirens) are more than 1000 years old, which really puts time into perspective (this year has felt loooong), and continues to be humbling. 

When the rain stopped this weekend, we drove south an hour (a direction I don't think we've really done in close to a year) to Humboldt Redwoods State Park (near the famous "Avenue of the Redwoods") to hike among some of the spectacular groves of coastal redwood trees near the Eel River. We saw a coyote (our first in the wild) on the roadside on the way down.

We were trying to get to the Bull Creek Flats trail, but ended up staying on the Rockefeller Loop, because the kids had such fun spending time walking on (and in) the trees.

Iver has been very into reading about "Bigfoot" lately, and I think we convinced him that some of these hollowed areas of the trunks ("fire cavities" or "goosepens") were Sasquatches' nighttime shelters (in fact, our area of the Redwoods is really close to the start of the Bigfoot Scenic Byway, Hwy 96 out of Willow Creek).

The kids enjoyed wading and tossing stones into the Eel River's south fork.

Niall pretended to be "eaten" by this wood's Lion Head.

We had packed a picnic lunch and ate at the riverside on a sandbar near Founders' Grove. This is a good potential summertime swimming spot as, slightly inland, it tends to be warmer than where we are on the coast.

The kids enjoyed "fishing."

Some raptors (hawks?) circling

God has cared for these trees, saved them from drought, disease, avalanches, and a thousand tempests and floods. But he cannot save them from fools.” — John Muir

“A grove of giant redwoods or sequoias should be kept just as we keep a great and beautiful cathedral.” — Theodore Roosevelt

Fitting quotes as we wrap up Presidents' Week.  May we all do everything in our power to save and appreciate these beautiful trees.