July 25: Camp Anna, An Epiphany, and Perseverance

It is not to be sneezed at that both children easily opted for showers of their own volition last Sunday when we returned from our week away. Sarah used to resist showers at all costs, but somehow over the past year she shifted into (mostly) easily taking showers at home. She still won’t shower elsewhere, but that is ok. She also shifted from morning showers to taking afternoon showers, which is what we need for the upcoming school year. I’m expecting that she will have to wake at 5:45 to be ready for the bus in time, if it is as early as it was in past non-pandemic years.

This past week was Camp Anna. For Nice-to-Meet-You-Monday they made t-shirts with custom-made prints and then tie-dyed the shirts. They also traced each other outside with sidewalk chalk and then filled in the outlines. They made macarons for the Musical Note Gala day and made tents for House day. For the tents the girls even sawed the lumber themselves, with supervision and help. On Big Cat and Baby Panda day they went to the zoo and the pool. Friday was Hearts and Superstars as a theme. It was a packed and wonderful week, as always when Anna runs a camp. I’m already feeling sad about the summer ending and school starting. It has been such a tremendous year having Anna here almost daily. It is hard to think about that shifting to only occasional babysitting times as school life returns to some semblance of normal. I guess I can just focus on what an amazing thing it is to have had such a richly wonderful pandemic experience. 

Sarah has started wearing her fleecy winter boots, delighting in the concept of being so silly as to wear boots in the summer. She also enjoys pretending to be Daddy Pig from a Peppa the Pig episode. Her favorite moment is when he tries to mow the overgrown lawn with an old, rusty lawn mower that breaks spectacularly when he pushes it into the tall grass. She and Amy play together with copying Daddy Pig, pretending to push mowers while saying, “Trying… trying…trying… BOING!” The boing is when the mower breaks. Given the moments of intense fighting that can occur between Amy and Sarah, it always warms my heart when they are playing harmoniously and joyfully together. 

Last night we were going to watch a movie, but there was much fighting at the outset. Amy wanted to have the remote to get the volume at a good level so they could hear the movie. Sarah really wanted to put the remote back in the holder, as she always does. In my mind this defeats the purpose of it being a remote, if you still have to get up and walk across the room to make a change, but it is how she wants it. I was fixing dinner so wasn’t aware of the problem until it reached top scream volume, with both wrestling for the remote. I don’t know who spoke through me to order them both to their rooms for 5 minutes to cool off, but that is what I yelled (yelling so I could be heard). It worked. Five minutes later, they started harmoniously watching the movie and all was well until Sarah wanted to help me in the kitchen but didn’t follow my requests as to what not to do. I get fairly anxious about such things because I’m concerned about safety, and Sarah goes from zero to sixty on her upset scale instantly and that makes everything worse. So then she had a few minutes of slamming the bathroom door repeatedly before calming and joining us for the movie. We watched “Enchanted” and it is now one of Amy’s favorite movies. Sarah left half-way through to go listen to Adele songs in the family room, which is one of her favorite things to do daily.

This week when I’ve been giving massages I’ve been more aware of keeping the integrity and support of my back as I work, refusing to compromise for the sake of whatever I think I need to do to get results. It has been a good reminder that taking care of my own self is actually the way to do my best work. I felt like I could find the key spots for people more effectively. I could see better what needed to happen, seeing things that I somehow missed in years or months of working with certain people. My epiphany is that possibly I could have the same attitude toward parenting, refusing to compromise my support and ease. I don’t know how this will work, but for the most part yesterday I did feel more easily solid in my parenting, even when I sent them to their rooms. 

Yesterday Carl rode his mountain bike in a race in honor of his friend who passed away. The race was not one that Carl had been planning on, but he was able to sign up and even to have both his number and his friend’s number. He also got a Sunkist orange soda to have after the race, since that was his friend’s favorite drink. The race was 75 miles on a ridge in central PA. Unfortunately after mile 24 his bike lost the ability to shift gears. It is a mystery as to why, and the way the bike is built makes it so he can’t just pull off to the side and tinker with it. He persevered. He is my hero and I get teary every time I think about this tremendous commitment of love for his friend. I was teary just at the thought of him doing the race to begin with, but to persevere with a partially non-functional bike is even more poignant. 

May you feel the easy support of your whole beautiful back.

July 18: Philly, Relatives, and Memories

We are in the final hours of driving home after a week in the Philadelphia area seeing Grammy and Granddad, two uncles, Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop, many cousins, and Grandma and Grandpa! Grandma and Grandpa just happened to be traveling through Philly at the same exact time we were having an outdoor dinner with Carl’s cousin and her family. I always marvel at how such a trip can be on the horizon as something we are eagerly anticipating for so long, and then it finally arrives and is over in the blink of an eye. We had many wonderful moments and the usual challenging times. The challenges are mainly that Sarah and I seem to only have conflict between us because almost all of her time is spent with relatives until it is time for her to change course and she doesn’t welcome my message to that end. In turn I don’t have as much relaxed space for her whining and yelling. Multiple nights with her calling out from half-falling out of bed or a dream or needing fresh clothes due to her period didn’t help my sleep, and I’m sure a nightly dose or two of adrenaline isn’t conducive to my best relaxed parenting. Still, overall we had a very good time. 

Carl and I celebrated our 19th anniversary. Amy and Sarah sneakily made us cards the night before, after we tucked them into bed. Then, with Grammy’s help, they made us a surprise cake, referring to it as cooked cucumber so we wouldn’t suspect anything.

Grammy found a wooden house toy with different locks, keys, and doorbells that Sarah loved. Amy enjoyed making Lego cupcakes and teaching Grammy (and later Mom-Mom) to play Tacocat Spelled Backwards. Granddad told us about his invisible dog Fritz who helps with household chores. We all cracked up when learning the answers to our questions about Fritz. How big is he? about the size of a dog. What color? Dog colored. When was he born? On his birthday. 

Mom-Mom had many Conversations with the girls. Having a Conversation really means going up to play in Mom-Mom’s room, as if that is a Sarah-Rise room. Mom-Mom had fake tattoos for the kids, cats for Amy and musical notes for Sarah. There were also small black cat confetti pieces and very large paper musical notes. I hid both for the kids to find. For Sarah I made the notes extremely obvious. For Amy I made the cats extremely camouflaged. Pop-Pop arranged radio control cars for the kids to drive and also taught Sarah to use their treadmill, which she did with great speed. 

Yesterday we met Carl’s cousin and her family at the Jersey shore for an absolutely perfect beach day. It was beastly hot if you weren’t by the water, but next to the water there was a glorious breeze, and the water was the perfect temperature. We arrived early enough to get super close parking, and we dined on hoagies, cheesesteaks and ice cream. We got sand everywhere and all of us got sunburned. We don’t go to the shore often enough to remember the lesson about how much more effectively ocean water removes sunblock compared to the removal power of lake water or pool water. Amy and Carl played in the waves a lot and Amy was fully immersed many times, so they both needed lots of aloe. 

The most poignant part of the trip for me was that we stayed in a rental house in Mount Airy about a block away from my childhood home. I walked past my old house, my best friends’ old house, and I traversed my old familiar path to get us coffee from my old Wawa. I swear that some hills used to be bigger and the blocks used to be longer. So many feelings that I can only describe as a mix of homesickness, grief over the good memories, and a joyful peace at being home. In a non-covid time I might consider knocking on my old door, but this was not the time to do so. I loved my old house very much and neighborhood is steeped in all of the memories of the good times with my best friends. I was in their house almost as much as my own. To commemorate my memories, we made a final Wawa stop before hitting the road, stocking up on the junk food I used to covet. So far we have enjoyed Krumpets and Tastycake cupcakes. Snowballs are in our future, along with some Philly pretzels. These pretzels don’t quite do justice to a true Philly pretzel that comes in a strip of eight, or singly warm in trade for my Thursday morning quarter at recess in elementary school. I kept my quarters in my little zipped pocket on my Kangaroo sneakers. 

May you have good memories and make more.

July 11: Fireworks, Rain, and Brilliant Lines for the Bathroom

For the first time in Amy’s life, we took her to see fireworks. We hadn’t realized she hadn’t ever really seen them up close. She was in awe of the beauty but needed to cover her ears because she hated how loud they were. Towards the end she was in tears about the noise so Carl took her away before the finale. When Sarah and I met them afterwards they had ice cream for all, which doesn’t solve all of the world’s problems but sometimes can solve too-loud-fireworks-dismay. 

We don’t think it was related to the fireworks because it was six hours later, but Sarah had a seizure that night. It was the first break-through seizure since we last increased her anti-seizure meds. This time she seemed more aware of what was going on, while being powerless. Sometimes after a seizure she can speak and move normally right away. This time it took a few minutes, which probably felt like hours to Sarah. It seemed like she was trapped in one of those nightmares where you want to speak and move but you can’t. We reassured her that her abilities would quickly return. After she was snuggled next to Carl for the remainder of the night, I took some time to write about my feelings and experience so I could let go of the adrenaline and sleep again. I didn’t have paper or pen easily at hand so I just used my finger to write on the sheet. Evidently, it is the process of writing that helps one’s brain more than needing to save anything legibly for posterity. Because of this seizure we now need to do another overnight EEG for Sarah, currently scheduled for mid-August. 

We had a wonderful day at a lake beach on July 5. Amy spent hours swimming, running, doing gymnastics, and making things out of sand. Sarah  and Carl made a sand Goodnight Moon House and also went into the water. I bravely got my toes wet in the cold water but that was it.

The kids and I tried to go to the pool one sunny afternoon, except when we parked it suddenly wasn’t sunny anymore. As lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, we returned home. The drive was punctuated by Sarah’s screams, but when we got home we had milkshakes and watched Frozen so the day wasn’t all lost. The next day was Mermaid Day with Anna. They had a rain party with their mer-pets and even managed a quick trip to the pool during a sunny interval. As soon as Mermaid Day was over, Sarah had her time with Gregory and then went for her first Anat Baniel Method lesson in two years. After that she did some Zwift biking and then had dinner with Grandma and Amy. When I came home from work the kids were doing quiet time before bed. Sarah was very quiet. It turns out that having such a packed day and not having her customary nap made for one tired kiddo. When I went to tell her to get ready for bed I found her sound asleep in Carl’s side of our bed!

Sarah has resumed piano lessons in person, which is super wonderful for all involved. Namely, it means that I am not as involved and her teacher can help her more effectively. What I don’t understand fully is why Sarah loves her lessons, but then screams bloody murder if I dare even suggest practicing her new song even it is with help. She tolerates practicing a song she knows better, but otherwise the screaming is intense and commences before I even finish speaking. I know I used to hate practicing piano too, but I don’t think I liked my lessons much either. 

On the way home from her piano lesson I sighed in annoyance at another driver. Sarah piped up from the backseat, “Dude, Mama.” It was as if she was reminding me of what I normally say, but she had none of the intonation I normally do. Just a reminder of the word. 

Carl was an absolute genius early in the week when he was with Sarah for her bedtime routine, and she was screaming about Amy using the bathroom. I was in my room journaling to get my feelings out regarding Sarah’s screaming and also journaling, as an experiment, as if I was Sarah venting her frustrations about the moment. I have no idea if my writing as Sarah will help with anything but it does help me with empathy and compassion. Carl started talking to Sarah about how everyone needs to use the bathroom and maybe even her stuffed animals and dolls needed to go. She resisted at first, but at about the time I finished writing, she switched to accepting and embracing the idea. Suddenly there was laughter and delight as Amy and Sarah participated in moving a line of dolls and stuffed animals in turns to the bathroom. Each one always closed the door, because that sound is so often the trigger for Sarah’s screams. Some of the cat stuffed animals pretended to use the litterbox. Carl was stuck at the end of an ever-growing line, complaining that he would never get to go, which also resulted in giggles from the kids. I could hear the built-up tensions and feelings releasing through the laughter. Yesterday when Sarah again got upset about Amy being in the bathroom, I quickly pointed out that it was actually Purple Cat in line next and then many other animals were still in line. Sarah immediately shifted to play mode and all was well, only this time I was never going to get my turn. Even Olivia, our real cat, got in line in front of me!

I hope you are all well and don’t have to wait too long for the bathroom.

July 4: Some Really Good Things Coupled with Incomprehensible Loss

This week has been packed with good things and with incomprehensible loss. First, the good things. 

Magic camp started. Luckily Amy’s new broom arrived in time. Magic camp is with Anna at our house. On day one, Sarah and Amy flew on their brooms to get there, and Anna arrived wearing a magic hat and carrying more hats to share. Sarah loved potions class the best, especially when her sparkly pink potion overflowed, as it was supposed to with the combination of vinegar and baking soda. 

My cousin visited for the first time since before the pandemic. She and I cooked dinner together and that was a lovely experience with delicious results. It was so nice to be together in person, and our guest room is cleaner than it has been in years!

Gregory had a beautiful moment with Sarah during his first time back with her in person. They have been doing Facetime sessions since the world shut down. In his words…

Sarah and I sat on the porch swing.  Even after Jenny had suggested Sarah show me her room, and Sarah confirmed verbally, Sarah’s focus remained on…my presence.  That was everything for her.  The hiking shorts.  The semi-shiny button.  The striped shirt.  Buttons with four holes.  The whiskey socks.  Her musical notes.  Her shiny button.  And all the while just locked-in, vibing on having me there beside her.  She had that locked in face, the cycling jaw, her fingers a bit rigid and approaching the patterns and stitching and seams on my clothes.

Amy was also very present initially, and I chatted with her about her broom.  I asked Sarah, “Did YOU get a broom too?  Or not?”  And Sarah very reflexively, knowing a question had been asked but not having at all processed the language, said, “Yes.” Amy, of course, volleyed back, “No, you didn’t!”

I laughed, talked to Amy while looking at Sarah, “Well.  To be honest, I think Sarah is so into my just being here that she didn’t really process the question I’d asked her, you know?”  In the middle of that question, Sarah exited that state of momentary and existential nirvana and looked at me.  Processed what I’d been saying to Amy, and she reached out with her right hand.  She looked me in the eye and stroked the hair behind my left ear.  “It’s good to see you, Gregory.”  It was the sweetest moment.  “You know what, Sarah?  It’s so wonderful to see you as well!”

On Sunday night I learned that the previous headmaster of my elementary school died. I hadn’t seen him since I was maybe in 5th grade but I always liked him when he came into our classroom to read aloud from a novel. Sarah and Amy heard my cry when I read the news and came in to offer hugs and tissues. 

Carl turned 45 on Tuesday. I had been preparing for it ahead of time gathering sentiments from many friends and family. It meant a lot to him when I presented them at the end of the day, especially after the difficult day it turned out to be. For some background, a couple of years ago Carl’s friend, who had lost his young son to cancer, asked Carl if he would be his partner for a big mountain bike race in British Columbia in honor of the son who had died. Carl said yes, and they began training in earnest. The race got postponed due to Covid19. Then it got canceled. They signed up for a different race. That also got canceled. They kept their registrations for the British Columbia race but now for 2022. They were training for another race that would happen sooner. This friend was going to do a race on his own in three weeks, but was going to do an all-day training ride with Carl yesterday. That was the plan. Tuesday morning, just after Carl decided he could see the all-day bike ride as part of his birthday celebration, he got a call that his friend had died in his sleep. Completely out of the blue and unexpected. As you can surmise given the biking, this friend was extremely fit and healthy. He was only 51. We cannot wrap our minds around what happened. We cannot comprehend the grief of the friend’s widow and her three remaining children. How does a family survive the loss of a child to cancer and a few years later the loss of a dad in this way? Our hearts break for them. Carl’s heart breaks for the loss of such a good friend and coworker. Carl will now ride the race in three weeks in honor of his friend.