Personalities by portraiture

Sometimes I wonder how two children of the same parents can be as different as they are.

Our oldest is spirited, energetic (with little need for sleep), highly sensitive, competitive, and is a perfectionist in many aspects (sound familiar?).  He loves to run around outdoors, play games and sports with others, and spends many hours creating detailed art projects. 

Our second is a great sleeper (we have to drag him out of bed in the mornings) and will tell us when he's tired (especially when hiking).  He is quite flexible, usually easily consolable, and loves hanging out on the couch reading or relaxing. He spends a lot of time quietly assembling/disassembling legos and is quite content playing solo.  He is not very into drawing or coloring at this point, but we will see what happens in a few years.

My parents have gifted both boys "Little Passports" subscriptions, which come monthly with various age-appropriate STEM and art projects. They are great for weekends, rainy days, and even taking on trips.

 When asked to attempt to draw a portrait like those shown at left, this is what Niall (4) came up with:

Sigh. The effort.

Iver, age 7, swooped in and was all over this project ("I can draw a Mona Lisa, no problem!")

A tale of two children. Via their portraits.

Bloomin' & Strollin'

It's definitely feeling like spring in these parts. We've had some (welcomed) rainy days but lots of sunshine, too, with lots of spring blossoms popping up all around town.

Arcata Marsh

It's also the time to spot Trilliums and this Saturday, we headed to the Lynn Vietor Nature Trail near the Humboldt Area Foundation to walk the trail which was full of the beautiful little tri-leafed flowers. I learned about this trail from my Trillium-loving friend Karen and we explored it for the first time almost exactly one year ago. 

Our friends Sarah and Tito and their kids joined us for the walk.

Familiar log!

Soooo many trilliums dotted the forest floor!

It's always special to spot a purple one!

Clovers apparently don't taste that great

Questionable family photo cooperation...

(which one of these is not like the others?!)

We ended the morning with playtime at Sarah and Tito's fun backyard.

Feeding the fish!

They have beautiful blooms at their house, too!

Tulips

Daffodil (I think! I recognize I'm pretty flower-challenged in general!)

Neighborhood blooms

We're looking forward to more springtime walks... being sure to have our allergy meds on board.

Different metrics

Different metrics (by me)

The day unfolds at 8:15,

in quarter-hour intervals,

back-to-back-to-back visits

full of numbers.

 

HGBA1C of 9.

Hemoglobin of 5.

Cholesterol of 280.

Creatinine of 3.

FRAX risk of 18%.

Ready in room 2.

The doctor grits her teeth,

trying to make sense of it all,

explaining the values to a patient,

and hearing their struggles,

while trying to motivate changes in behavior,

wondering why the industry

set a fifteen-minute limit on a patient's needs.

"Better access" is one reason.

"The bottom line," we hear again and again. 

Visits could stretch longer...

they often do run way over. 

Because, with hope, the patient will be treated

not just as a number, 

but as an individual.

Even though the clicks need to be done

(there are too many),

and the words need to be typed,

the orders signed, faxed, and the chart closed, 

the patient's story, 

their personal successes,

and all of their pain, 

can’t be measured,

or compartmentalized,

so easily.

We wish we could help them all,

do all the things,

check all the boxes,

meet all the measures, 

and help them with all they want that day.

But there are so many patients,

and not enough doctors (nor nurses or assistants), 

a ratio both unsafe and unfair. 

There are only so many hours in each day. 

And we are humans, too.

The doctor runs, 

room-to-room, 

typing while listening, 

mind racing ahead, 

counting how many more visits there will be,

calculating how many more notes there are to write,

trying to get out the door on time to pick up her own tiny humans,

with their own long days, 

list of complaints, and needs.

She tries not not to drown under the click burden 

and administrative requests, 

sometimes after pulling an all-nighter,

and it's all so costly.

“Can you squeeze one more?”

the front desk asks.

The time card submission form asks, 

"Did you take your breaks?"
(What are breaks?)

What if the metric was not "productivity,"

but empathy?

What if the health care system listened to patients,

and doctors, 

who value quality, 

over quantity,

who strive for connection

over QI quotas.

What if we deferred the pap for a bit,

so we could instead treat the person in front of us,

whose values are not always concordant with 

the system's "values."

What a difference we could make,

if we could sit quiet, calmly, 

be present, 

listening with more than just the stethoscope, 

but with our open hearts,

having the space and time  

to touch both our patients' bodies, 

but also their souls.

Different metrics indeed.

Four-year-old (Superhero) Wisdom

Niall (resident superhero expert): Mama, did you know how Spider-Man got his powers?

Me: Uhhh.... (superhero trivia/content is not my strong suit)

Niall: Mama! He got bitten by a spider!

Me: Ah, ok. I think I knew that.

Niall: So does that mean Wonder Woman got bitten by a Wonder?

Travel Dreams

We have a few upcoming trips planned this spring and summer.  The anticipatory anxiety of COVID derailing actually making it to our destination(s) does take away from the joy of planned vacation (studies have shown that looking forward to a trip is more of the reward, in fact!), but we are crossing our fingers for health and safety as we plan with cautious hearts.

  

Enjoy this exotic art by Iver (age 7).

Leprechaun magic

 

Iver has been going to Catholic Sunday School for a couple of months now (save some COVID-related cancellations). He apparently knows much more than I do about St. Patrick.

While he showed some serious Santa skepticism earlier this year, he realized in the evening on the 16th that he had forgotten to make a "Leprechaun trap," and still firmly believes in the little creatures. "I reeeeeaaaaally want to catch Lucky this year!" he said right before bed and after he spent more than an hour creating this trap. 

"Lucky" the leprechaun did visit, took the lolly, and signed a note with some footprints, but, alas, he escaped again. 

We'll try again next year! 

Child of the Pandemic

Psychologists will be studying "pandemic children" for years to come.  While I haven't seen any speech or language deficiencies in Niall, who's worn his mask faithfully since turning two and who talks more and articulates better than most four-year-olds I've ever met, some educators feel that mask-wearing in kids has hindered speech and emotional learning.

I often wonder how the pandemic has affected (my) kids in more subtle (or less easily studied) ways.  When we go to playgrounds, Niall seems to bristle when there are lots of (unfamiliar) kids around and often says things like, "I want the playground to myself!"  We're not sure if this reflects him being conditioned to social distance and being used to playing solo/far away from others (although we did have a short playdate indoors this weekend with Kellie's daughter, Ada), or just more simply that he's not a kid who wants to "share" any playground equipment...

... maybe time will tell. 

Pi Day

In honor of "Pi day," Kelvin brought home pie today from Toni's.   They were apparently out of the flavor "Chocolate" so Niall had to settle for "German Chocolate."

We learned today that he apparently is NOT AT ALL fan of flaked coconut and wanted me to "dig it out" of the pie.  "Mama, can you get the 'German' out of this? I just want to eat PLAIN chocolate!"

Happy Pi Day!

Strongly Dislike

 

We don't use the word "hate" in this house. My kids know that it's a banned (akin to a swear) word-- when it comes up in books, I censor it to "dislike" (sometimes I slip up and Niall calls me out).

I also hope that my kids grow up to eat a variety of foods and textures (which is not their strong suit right now). I struggle with *forcing* them to try again things that they've told me they dislike in the past. However, no one grows up loving brussel sprouts, right (I famously didn't eat green beans until I was in college)?

But jello. Sigh. I cannot stand jello. From the midwest "jello salads" that one cannot, in good faith, call salad to jello pudding and these little fruity gelatin cups that Kelvin's mother sometimes gives the kids, I just cringe. The jiggly texture (and artificial flavor) is just not for me. Neither can I do flan, mousse, pudding, or anything similar as a dessert.

But my kids love it. At Target one day, Iver found a bunch of jello boxes and had to have Kelvin send me a picture of them all together as a joke. They didn't buy them all. They did buy one box, and I told Kelvin he'd have to be the one making jello if he and the kids felt so inclined to prepare and eat it; I could not be involved. 

There are few things (/foods) that I strongly dislike more. 

Guthrie Creek Trail & Lost Coast Headlands

 

On Saturday morning, we took advantage of a half-day of expected sun and drove past the dairy town of Ferndale to the Lost Coast Headlands area and Guthrie Creek Trail, which is just over an hour from our house. 

The trailhead was just past Lost Coast Ranch, where we saw a herd of grazing sheep (and one donkey).

The views were spectacular on the sunny morning, but it was incredibly windy (and rather cold, which surprised Iver. When he started complaining about how it wasn't the best weather, we talked about how "there is no bad weather, only bad clothing!").

Iver was eager to explore the *alternative* path to the beach but we encouraged him to stick to the actual one. It was about one mile down. He insisted on carrying his own food and water.

Pepper was a good little hiker (down), and Niall lasted about a half mile.

Pep snuck away once or twice due to some interesting smells in the grass.

The spring wildflowers were lovely (I've already started sneezing-- allergy season is officially here).

Due the creek water, we couldn't explore much of the beach, which disappointed these beach-lovers, but maybe we can try another route next time. We only saw one other hiker (and his two huskies) the entire time.

Ferndale flowers...

... and loose bovines.

The rain set in by midday and we let the kids play a bit at the Bear River Casino park before heading back home. We enjoyed a nice walk at a new local trail-- we're so fortunate to live so close to so many scenic spots!