Pandemic Truths

One year in, parents of young children, healthcare workers, and tired people everywhere be like:

Emerging From the Frost

It definitely feels like springtime in these parts. I see the cherry trees blooming and pollen abounding, leading to many sniffles, sneezes, and post-nasal-drip coughs in this house (I joke that I need to wear a pin or sticker that says "It's not the Coronavirus, just my tree pollen allergies." It seems that all in this house but Niall seem affected by environmental allergies [Pepper's skin is as bad as ever and we had to force Flonase upon Iver this morning]). The sun is out a bit more, and even though the mornings are still cool and frosty, our days are warming up to the temperate summer days (and more evening sunlight after the DST time change) we can expect.

Despite the pollen, after the long COVID winter (and year+), we welcome this spring and the renewal and joy that it may represent. My mood is way better and I'm starting to feel more hopeful, although it's still a weird time to live through. 

neighborhood poppy

COVID vaccinations have been ramping up widely in our community-- essential workers, teachers and childcare workers, many adults, and now some of our friends have had the opportunity to get a shot (or two). Kelvin's parents are fully vaccinated, and my parents soon will be, with plans to come visit later the spring and see their grandkids for the first time in over a year.  Public schools are (in part/hybrid) finally open. COVID cases remain low (a handful per day) and local restrictions seem to be easing a bit, although we have still been very personally restrictive in where we go and what we do outside of work and school. Kelvin and I, vaccinated medical workers, are still feeling very stingy with our family's risk budgets, unsure about what is electively "okay" to venture out and do, especially so as to not jeopardize any chances of our children having childcare during the week. Any extra social encounter involving (unvaccinated) kids (even outside) like those of our friends and colleagues feels a bit iffy as the potential cascade of contact-tracing seems exhausting.  We feel like small plant buds bursting through the ground, nervous about the weather that awaits and not wanting to be crushed, but wanting to grow and blossom (or like baby chicks newly hatched, hoping not to get eaten by a predator. After a year of avoidance, some things we would have normally jumped at the chance to do now seem somewhat dispensable (if not too risky).

(Iver can't wait to get vaccinated. He tells me he'd prefer the one-shot Johnson & Johnson if they make that version for kids). 

Our health center's Saturday "mass vaccination" clinic:

Nevertheless, we adults have spread our wings a bit.  Springtime firsts for us:

-  We had our first relative and houseguest when Theresa came to see us at the beginning of the month.
-  Kelvin went back to get a professional in-person haircut (after a year of me doing his garage cuts every three weeks, a task I really don't enjoy).
- I attended church in person (masked and distanced in the large gym), which felt quite safe, although the live-streamed on-line service seems a good compromise as well, and an option of which many people are taking advantage.
- As vaccinated healthcare workers, we started to be able to (if we desire, as the shields are meant to protect us) skip wearing a face-shield during short clinic visits when the patient is also masked (as they universally are) and it's a low-risk (i.e. low likelihood of generating droplets or if the patient is vaccinated) encounter. (We still wear surgical masks and I still wear a face shield and N95s in the hospital with laboring patients).
- I went on an outdoor walk with my friend Kellie with both of us unmasked (this-- to see a friend's full face after so long-- felt the weirdest of all of these firsts!).

- I booked a massage after complaining about upper right-sided back, neck, and arm pain from so much computer work and clicking (it was amazing, so worth it after so long, and, with both of us masked, felt safe).

- We have begun to plan a short adults-only weekend away when Kelvin's parents visit us next month to get a break from pandemic parenting, which is sorely needed.
- We are considering a summertime trip involving plane travel to visit more of Kelvin's family in Orange County and possibly take another short child-free getaway (likely somewhere in the Southwestern US) to celebrate our ten-year wedding anniversary. How strange it will be to be in an airport and on a plane after all this time. The anticipation of possible travel, a joy I have missed greatly, has already boosted my spirits!

This pandemic is far from over and we cannot let our guard down too much, but we know we are turning a corner. The seasons are changing.  Hope is in the air. Bring on the Spring! 

Anti-racism is the only way

Blog-ranting about institutional white supremacy, white male terrorism, and senseless (preventable) gun violence in our country is exhausting, and tends not to lift my spirits in any measurable way.... so here's just a picture for today for these times.

Up a Tree

 We visited a playground on Sunday and the kids enjoyed scaling one of the park's lovely trees.

I'm surprised no one has broken any bones yet in our house, but with these climbers it's sure to happen sometime!

The kids may actually be all right (To love to read is everything)

I have been stressed out this whole school year due to the COVID-adjusted academic year. I felt like I could handle and put up with all of the the distancing, hand-washing, tele-health adjustments at work, masking and PPE donning/doffing, loneliness and not socializing, lack of travel and vacation, and missed time, holidays, and gatherings with family. While these are true losses and inconveniences, I knew they wouldn't last forever. While a rude wake-up, they were necessary and doable, and transient, forgettable. I still had a well-paying job. I was healthy. I worried a lot about my kids' losses, but both of my boys have proven to be far more positive and resilient than us adults (well, me).

"Iver, do you think you've missed out on anything this year? As in, are there things that, due to COVID-19, you've wanted to do, but have not been allowed to do and missed out on? Like attending kindergarten school?"

Iver (age 6): "No. I do everything I want to do. Just with a mask."

The lack of in-person elementary school was just about the hardest pill I had to swallow, and it sent me over the edge, in part because I felt that Iver, a lover of learning, would somehow disengage, "fall behind," and miss out crucial education in this formative year, especially with respects to (Spanish) language, among other skills. So many kids have. I felt like this was time he wouldn't ever get back/make up, and that most other parents had the time, emotional energy, and skills to supplement what their kids were missing from in-person school, whereas my tank was empty, my daylight hours limited, and my energy and motivation severely lacking. I know that this all was somewhat irrational, that it's "just kindergarten," and things could be way worse for our and for so many other families. I needn't have put so much pressure on ourselves or our family. And I know I should have been thankful that my child has still had the opportunity and privilege to play and socialize with his buddies at childcare, which is so much of what the year of Kindergarten is about. Nevertheless, I still deeply resented the after-hours burden on working parents to fight with our kids about the required worksheets and schoolwork and, the longer it went on, the more angry I became. For many months, I did it, because I am a rule-follower, not a rebel, I wanted to be a "good" and "compliant" and "supportive" parent, and I wanted to try to make the schoolteachers happy, or at least their [and their future--GOOD LUCK to the first grade teachers!] jobs as easy as they could be (as we know they've had a rough year, too!).  I want to support public education and educators, even as I feel they gravely and unnecessarily disappointed and abandoned our children. However, I am not a natural-born teacher.  I have never wanted to, and did not enjoy formally (attempting) homeschooling my very strong-willed kid.  I am low on patience in a good year, and even lower in COVID times. It was way too much and way too hard on top of managing "regular life." 

I started to let a lot of it go a couple of months ago. I was still grouchy about our local school's reluctance in opening (which, thankfully, they have now done, albeit part-day and part-time for eight total hours per week) but I stopped fighting the un-winnable battle of trying to "do it all." I just let go of the micromanaging of the task-completion of random Spanish videos and online math and reading "assignments" that sometimes weren't happening during day childcare.  I just made it a priority to read, read, read to our kids.  Every. Single. Day. Morning and night.

Iver wasn't enjoying "Freckle," the digital reading program that the school had for his school-mandated time that was to be spent reading, and couldn't easily do this program while at childcare because it didn't read it to him (an adult had to read the articles and books out loud as many were too advanced for his age, and the childcare teachers have been asked to do a lot this year for their young charges, and their attention is too divided and in great demand). However, he loves to learn, and is passionate about a range of topics-- ranging from magical creatures like unicorns and Bigfoot, to wild animals like marsupials, reptiles, as well as all natural wonders.  He learned about a program called EPIC from one of his childcare school friends (as this is what that friend's school uses for his school literary arts), a digital library with thousands of kids' books, which can read aloud to the child while the child follows the highlighted words along (think: similar to the bouncing ball). Even though we read a ton directly to Iver at home, he begged for a subscription so that he could use this at childcare instead of Freckle to get those minutes in in a satisfying way. We agreed to the 30-day free trial and then, when I was deciding whether the cheapskate in me (because library books are FREE!) could rationalize spending $8 a month such a service, I just heard God or a small voice in my head whispering, 

"If it makes your child excited to read, it's worth it." 

We can afford it, and I realized that, if Iver learned nothing else in Kinder including zero Spanish words, but acquired the skill and desire to love to read, then we would consider it a successful year and a "big win" in a year of so many great losses. We don't have to keep EPIC forever, and I far prefer paper to digital books for kids, but I think we'll keep subscribing for now. Technology is not disappearing anytime soon, and it makes him happy.

We have been doing curbside check-out from our local library for almost nine months now (I believe the library was closed for about three months in 2020 when the lockdown started, but I have lost all track of time). As the library limits four hold requests per library account per time, my friend Kellie gave me the "ah-ha!" realization about six months ago that I could request library cards for the kids (and the librarian reminded me that I could reserve books under Kelvin, too), which multiplied our check-out possibilities!  I tend to visit the library about weekly for curbside check-out and then, immediately after checking out the four books, request four more per card so they'll be ready the following week (and the librarian now recognizes my car when I pull up)! Kellie also told me that the library has started doing "grab-bags" ("Librarian's choice," if you will, of up to ten hand-selected library books that are tailored to your child's interests which you list in an on-line form when making the request), which can be checked out in addition to the four-items-per-card-hold-requests described above. 

This offering has been so amazing for our family, as both boys absolutely love books and being read to. Iver, who now can also read very well himself and above grade level, devours books like I probably did as a kid, and often only wants to read a book once and then get more/newer ones as he feels he's mastered the content or he's bored... 

The picture below shows what our living room couch often looks like, with ten to thirty library books stacked in piles or in a basket that I have attempted to use to separate library books from our own supply (however, I obviously need a bigger basket... maybe a tub).

With the constantly rotating weekly supply and influx of library books to our house, and the delay in "clearing" books from our accounts (as, after returning them to the library drop slot, they usually sit in the returned bin for a few days to a week for "airing out"/decontamination purposes during COVID), I have had a somewhat hard time staying on top of (not losing track of) our borrowed books; however, the library has not really been enforcing late fees, and I haven't actually lost any books... yet. 

Even if I do, and I have to fork over some money to our local libraries, it will be worth it.  Anything that promotes reading, literacy, and a love of reading in my kids is worth it.  I don't know how communities (or we as people) would survive without the services of public libraries, books, and the escape of reading.  Our mental health and, truly, the survival of our civilization depends on it.

So even though "COVID Kindergarten" has pretty much been a bust (although I'm really trying to be optimistic about these last couple of months. Even part-time something is better than nothing!) and this has felt like a lost academic year for my child and so many children across the country and world, my boys love to read. While my soul has often felt empty, my lap has been full. 

Thank God.

Through this all (and through all of my abject failures as a teacher-parent), I think the kids will be all right. 

Sun Surprise, Samoa, & Sea Creatures

We were bracing for rain this past weekend, after we had checked the forecast mid-week. We had contemplated a Humboldt County day- or overnight trip, possibly to Petrolia/Lost Coast south of us, but decided against it since the weather didn't look favorable.

Nevertheless, we were in for a surprise! After some impressive showers, the clouds cleared by Saturday morning and we checked out the Samoa Dunes recreation area south of Arcata, a new coastal spot for us and the kids.  We stayed close to home.

 

 

The jetty was a fun place to fish-, bird-, and porpoise-watch! (We saw the darting mammal surfacing and swimming, and a fisherman we talked to said it was scaring away all his rockfish! We didn't get a photo, however). You have to be careful of sneaker waves here, but it was a calm day after the rains.

 

Iver had a fun time observing this millipede or whatever multi-legged creature it was.

The  kids found these two surprise beach creatures partially buried in the sand! 

Later in the afternoon, we went up to Trinidad and walked around Houda Point.  

(These are actually pictures I never posted from Luffenholtz beach on a different day but similar in their content).

This is actually the time of year that you can often spot migrating grey whales off our Humboldt coastal shores on their way back north from Baja California. We thought we saw one a previous weekend in Trinidad (which actually turned out to just be a rock emerging from the surf and spray), but will keep our eyes peeled the next time we're up high on a perch or cliff looking down at our Pacific water. A whale would be an incredibly beautiful creature to spot, which we haven't yet seen! 

Call me, (don't) Beep Me, if you want to reach me!

(Lyrics adapted from a song from Kim Possible, a show/character that Iver likes).

I don't know about most people, but (warning: rant ahead and call me a curmudgeon) I am not a fan of iPhone text messaging.

I first became acquainted with texting in about 2011, when we moved here and, as part of employment, I got my first smartphone. I had your regular-old flip phone when I lived in Minnesota and in Sacramento, which served me just fine (I am of the generation that still remembers having functional landlines, college Audix voice mailboxes, and pre-loaded Tracfones for driving emergencies. To my kids' surprise, we survived just fine without mobile phones).  Not being a huge fan of talking at length on the phone, I have always appreciated in-person conversations, and words in the form of notes, letters, or electronic communication (historically, in the form of e-mails). Some might think that this should mean that I'd love the type of quick communication that text messaging affords.

Don't get me wrong-- text-messaging is convenient for some things ("We're on our way" or "We landed" being a couple, or, internationally using iMessage over Wi-fi). However, the more that it's become a part of my/our lives, the less I like it (and Iver spontaneously texting  at his age really alarmed me. I worry about tech addiction/tech distraction for my kids' generation a lot). It's led to me adjusting my habits around texts and phone usage in general, in (I feel) a positive direction.

Earlier in 2021, I read Nir Eyal's book Indistractable. Among other things, I agree that so many of our phone features (access to apps including Facebook, e-mail, news, internet browsing, and more) can really lead us to misuse our time, and more importantly, our attention.  Long ago, I disabled phone alerts/notifications on all my apps, so I have to physically intentionally open the app to read its content. However, I couldn't figure out a great way to do this with text messaging, which I've always found incredibly distracting (obviously, there are other issues with texting like misunderstandings and the absence of tone). I still use my phone more than I'd like to (but not much around my family or other people), but less than previously.

The "dings" of an incoming text message would often hit while I was in the middle of work, seeing patients, picking up or playing with kids, trying to nap when on call (when I have to keep my ringer on in case of patient or hospital calls), or at a strange hour (due to friends/family in different time zones). Sometimes in evenings and overnight, I would turn the phone to "Do not disturb time." However, during the day, I did want to be able to see messages particularly from Kelvin (or those that were work-related/time-sensitive). Nevertheless, rarely were any of these messages truly urgent, and yet after I received a text, I'd feel the need or guilt to read it and reply promptly (in case I forgot later and so as to not appear rude. I'd also feel anxious until I did so, even if the matter or question wasn't urgent enough to require immediate attention). 

I really hated/hate that feeling!  I think probably 80% of more text messages I receive can be dealt with in e-mails instead (I am also someone that doesn't like to read news articles or other content on small screens. I also like to save photos to my computer).  I really don't like back-and-forth conversations over text (just call! It's far less rude and more efficient to have a quick chat than to have my head buried in the phone with a digital conversation when any other people are around). And group texting is just the absolute WORST (but I know how to "exit" such conversations to avoid getting continued messages). I do not like the pressure of responding quickly right away to anyone at anytime, and yet this is somehow what we have come to expect from our friends, co-workers, and family members.  (I feel the same way about a new feature of our electronic medical record, secure instant chat-messaging, which is just a bunch more clicks I have to minimize/close to get out of view and which is distracting when I'm trying to get through clinics seeing patients. There are other features-- EMR staff messages [for patient-specific information] or work e-mail which generally suffice for the tasks at hand and can be addressed at a convenient time). 

There is another way. 

I haven't yet found a way to selectively allow "sound" notifications from specific contacts (as you can do with allowing calls from your "favorites" or "emergency bypass" even when phone is in do-not-disturb mode), like from your spouse or kids' teachers (while everyone else stays on silent). I have looked it up multiple times, and don't think iPhone has this feature (but it should and I wish/bet someone in IT could figure this out!). I also think there should be a way to "time" a message for a future send (if you want to send a message or reply and think you might forget if you don't do it right away but don't want to accidentally bother someone or wake them up [this is relevant when we sign out to our OB colleagues about potential hospital labors, sometimes desperately wanting to go to sleep at 4 or 5 am after a long night/birth and not having to wake up again at 6 or 7 to send an "All is quiet" message]).

Nevertheless, a few weeks ago, I turned off all sound notifications for texting, and it's been a game-changer. The text still shows up/lights up on my phone screen, but I don't know it's there unless I check my phone, which I have found I'm doing less and less of lately. When I'm not on call, I generally leave my phone in my work bag (unless I need it for signing secure electronic prescriptions) and, at home, try to leave it on a counter face down, or in the bedroom (not in my pocket to be tempted to reach for it) so as to not be literally chained to the device at all times. 

I thought it would be harder to "break up with the phone," so to speak, for fear of missing out (FOMO). However, it really has not been difficult at all and has been refreshingly liberating. I've had some texts which I acknowledged later than the sender probably wanted (Kelvin is aware that if he needs an answer to something quickly, he should call, not text me). I will still, of course, use text messages to communicate, and I'm sure that iMessaging is not a feature that will be going away from our devices anytime soon (as much as I've seriously considered going back to a flip-phone!). However, these messages and the distraction they bring don't rule my life or attention any more, and they feel more like tools/a privilege than weighty obligations. 

So, basically: I love to connect with friends and family, especially in times like this when many in-person interactions are still discouraged for epidemiological reasons.  We are lucky to have the blessing of technology to connect us across the miles.  However, while I always strive to be courteous and respond in a reasonable amount of time, I will not be the most immediately responsive text-responder going forward so, if you need to reach me, please:

- consider if you can e-mail me the content instead (I'm a far better and more efficient keyboard typist than phone typist, check e-mail regularly and at convenient times for replying, and my replies are more thoughtful and filled with better punctuation and grammar [did I mention I HATE the feature auto-correct?!]). Then, the content also stays/becomes "searchable"/retrievable for later.  

- call me if it's time sensitive or if there will likely be a back-and-forth exchange needed, or just so we can connect in a more meaningful way.

I'd love to hear if anyone else has found other tips or tricks for evading text- or phone distraction!

Leprechaun Traps & Magic

I have to admit that I'm not high in enthusiasm in the general holiday-magic-making that tends to delight small children. I can barely pull off Santa (while I adore Christmas) but have a hard time at other times of the year (especially when it comes to more secular stuff).  We don't have any Irish blood in my family (to my knowledge), but somehow, we have produced a three-quarters Asian son who we chose to name Niall (an famous olde Irish king and "champion" in Gaelic) whose best friend at preschool is a kid named Declan... so maybe we'll be inclined to do some more learning and celebrating of Irish culture as we move forward (I've been to the Emerald Isle [once, circa 2004], knew a champion Irish dancer in high school, and one of my favorite authors is Irishwoman Tana French, whose mystery novels are all set in Ireland and full of colloquialisms, which is basically the extent of my cultural exposure to date).

The kids' childcare centers really get the spirit up during St. Patrick's Day week, and this year, both kids were into reading about and making Leprechaun traps. (Interestingly, we learned in one of these borrowed St. Paddy's Day library books that in Irish, kids are sometimes referred to as T'ank Gods [!])

Iver worked long and hard most of the week on his traps.  He was very excited to text "Co Kat" (with help from auto-correct).

He really wanted a note back from the Leprechauns...

... and he got one ("Kiss me, I'm Irish. Love Me Gold!"), along with some footprints (they took the bait coins and made a bit of a mess).  

 The leprechauns even left some pee in the toilet ("They didn’t flush!" exclaimed Niall).

The leprechauns had also visited their schools, making mischief in the bathrooms and more.

Leprechaun art (first one's beard made with forks per Iver)

 

 These wee lads (T'ank Gods) had a great St. Patrick's Day!

Lá Fhéile Naomh Pádraig sona dhuit!