Not a Wasted Word

Thank you all for your comments on Tuesday’s post. It was very validating to hear that others felt similarly, and that I am not alone. It was also good to just write out that post, and realize where my head is at, and why. Putting words to my anxiety really helped to contain it. I know now why I’ve been having such a hard time, and that is also a relief. I also know now there are some steps I can take to gain peace of mind, and there are some unknowns I will have to accept in order to move on. Everything feels more manageable now.

I confirmed earlier this week that my new classroom is no where near ready for me to start moving in. I emailed someone yesterday to see if I can help get the ball rolling, but I haven’t heard back yet. I keep telling myself that I will get it done, eventually. I’ll probably have to spend an entire weekend there, before school starts, but it will get done. And if my room doesn’t look the way I want it to when school starts, that will be okay too. If I can let go of my expectations and remember that perfection can be the enemy of the good, I should be okay.

Instead of moving into my new classroom, I’m focusing on my own home. This is hard because the easy stuff is done, and only the hard stuff (that I hate!) remains. I keep telling myself that one way I can take care of myself it to make my home a refuge from all the uncertainty outside it. I can make each room clean, quiet and welcoming. I can remove the clutter so that, at least in my own house, things feel calm and I feel in control. Knowing I want to achieve that for myself helps me stay motivated.

I did remove most of the clutter. I’ve also gone through most of the bag of that clutter. Yesterday I cleaned the floors. What I have not tackled yet is my own clothes (I really need to go through them all and get rid of stuff that no longer serves me), or my kids’ rooms. These are each big tasks. But the floors were a big task too and I got those done today. Today a new rug is supposed to come, a rug I’m excited about. I told myself I couldn’t take it out of the packaging until the floors were clean, and yesterday I cleaned the floors.

I realized while I was cleaning yesterday that I really hate it, especially cleaning the floors. I know no one loves to clean, but I really dislike it. Tidying up is gratifying at least – at the end things are more orderly. Sweeping is highly satisfying and if I notice I need to dust (it generally has to get pretty obvious for me to notice) then I’m pleased with the result. But cleaning my floors just does not deliver the ROI I require to actually get it done. I tend to spot clean the obvious blemishes on the floor, and I guess I’ve trained myself to ignore how dingy they must look after a while, because cleaning them (at least any floor that is not my kitchen floor – which requires a good steam cleaning at least once a month) just does nothing for me. I don’t feel satisfied afterward at all. If I can avoid the YMCA’s $630/mo aftercare program I think I’ll invest in a house cleaner. I really do think it’s time.

It’s been really hard to keep up the work on my house. I am getting rid of a lot – more than I expected – but it’s still slow going and everything I organize just reminds me of how much more I still need to tackle. My kids’ rooms are crazy, but I also think now would be a REALLY good time to go over them; after the last year and a half of being stuck at home we are acutely aware of what we use and what we don’t.

When I was packing my classroom in June I put the movie Wet Hot American Summer on the TV. One of my very favorite scenes came on, and I took a crude video of it with my phone. I’ve come back to it over and over this summer, because sometimes you really appreciate seeing someone act out how you feel.

When I was packing up my classroom I felt like both Paul Rudd and Janeane Garofalo. Internally I was having the tantrum, and simultaneously standing there incredulous, telling myself to just get it done. As the summer wears on, I feel myself converting to Paul Rudd completely – Janeane Garofalo is almost gone. But I need her back. I need someone to stand there next to my tantrumy self and tell her to just do it already.

Just get it done.

Today I plan to purge in my son’s room and sort through my own clothes. I think my clothes will be really satisfying to go through – most of my drawers have become unmanageable since the pandemic. I also want to clean out my closet and better use the floor space for storage. This is the first built in closet I’ve ever had as an adult and I’m always a little stunned at how much space is just sitting down there, unused. If you have any organizational tips for the bottom of a closet (a closet with only one rung so the floor space is very available) please share. I’m thinking of using the space for seasonal stuff I don’t need to access much – right now that stuff lives in my daughter’s closet and I’m tired of going back and forth, and only being able to access things when she is awake.

Do you ever feel like Paul Rudd in that clip? Or are you more like Janeane Garofalo?

So I realized something yesterday: I am really, really, REALLY anxious about the fall. Like I am overwhelmed by my anxiety about it. My desire to exert some control over a seemingly never ending parade of unknowns absolutely fueled my willingness to FINALLY get my house in order. It’s pushing me into my classroom three weeks before we start school. It’s compelling me to read every article published about the hyper-transmissible delta variant and its affects on children, and the possibility of breakthrough cases. It’s urging me to buy ALL THE MASKS that are on sale now, along with other back-to-school supplies we don’t need yet. It’s just there, driving basically every thought and action. I’m drowning in it.

The fact that I didn’t recognize that I was drawing from a deep well of anxiety about the fall in basically everything I was doing is… dispiriting. I’m going to need to be more aware, and honest with myself if I’m going to get through the next six months.

It’s understandable that I’m anxious about the school year. There are a lot of unknowns. My kids are starting at new schools where we aren’t familiar with the staffs or campuses or communities. That alone is a massive anxiety trigger for me – I’ve been at the same school for 18 years and my daughter was at her elementary school for six, and I was a really active parent there. Now both kids are going to schools that we don’t know anything about, and they are starting in a year where nothing is familiar to even the long time members of the community. Oh, and there is also a hyper transmissible virus lurking every where.

I’ve been teaching for almost two decades and I have no idea what next year will look like and it’s terrifying to me. I haven’t taught in my classroom since March 13, 2020. I don’t know what it’s like to try to make myself intelligible to 30+ students with a mask on. I don’t know how to teach Spanish with half my face covered, when it’s well accepted that seeing a speaker’s mouth is essential to language learning. I didn’t get to practice in person learning last spring when most of my colleagues did. I don’t know what I’m doing. It feels like I’m at the top of a hill in a go cart that’s glued together and someone’s about to push me down. It seems inevitable that I’m going to crash and burn.

My daughter is home sick again today, which is a reminder that they will probably both be home sick, on and off, all fall and into the winter. My husband has a lot more flexibility to stay home, but he is supposed to return to the office 2-3 days of the week starting in mid-September. How are we going to manage all these sick days? Our district never has enough subs in a normal year, they are sure to be very short next year when absences will be more common. How am I going to manage that?

I thought the fall was going to be better. I thought it was going to be easier. I thought we were coming out of the hard. But I’m realizing now that we’re not. The fall is going to be HARD. Really hard. Maybe even harder. I do think it will be better – ultimately I think my kids and I will be better off in our classrooms, despite all the complications being there will inevitably create – but I’m realizing that better doesn’t also mean easier. I thought things would be better BECAUSE they were easier, but I’m realizing they will be better DESPITE being harder. And I’m so tapped out from the past year and a half that I have no reserves to draw on. The summer has helped tremendously, but it’s can’t provide an endless wellspring to draw from. So I’m about to go into some more hard, when I’ve already been through a lot of hard. And I’m not sure how to do that.

And I will admit, I’m also not sure how to reconcile the apparent 180* we’re in the midst of maneuvering with respect to our risk tolerance around our kids getting Covid. We kept them so sheltered during the pandemic, only allowing them to socialize with a small, select group outside with masks on. And now, when they are three times more susceptible to getting sick, we’re fine with them sitting in classrooms with 20+ other kids we know nothing about. It’s like my brain short circuits when I think about it. It simply does not compute. I am especially confused by my husband’s attitude about it. He has been my touchstone on all this for the past year and a half, and now I don’t recognize his attitude at all. I can’t figure out where his head is at about any of it, and it’s incredibly disorienting, and it’s making all the uncertainty even harder. My touchstone is gone and I feel lost and alone.

I feel like I wasn’t that concerned about my kids getting Covid, but I had to foster a certain fear of it to make all the restrictions seem reasonable, and now I’m just supposed to jettison that fear because the benefits of in person learning outweigh (for my kids at least) the risks of the virus. And I do believe the trade off is worthwhile (again for my family, in our specific situation), but now that I’ve fostered this fear, and made all the restrictions seem reasonable, and I’m not sure how to dampen feelings of panic that all this exposure at school inspires.

So that is where I’m at. It’s actually a relief to recognize that all these seemingly disparate freakouts where just offshoots of the same plant of school-starting-panic. The roots of this plant grow strong, and deep and I’m sure I cannot rid myself of them completely. At this point I think I just need to trim the offshoots, keep the overgrowth manageable until later in the year, when I’ve gotten my bearings enough to do the hard work of digging it out. Hopefully by then the roots will be weaker and have less of a hold on me. In the meantime I need to give myself a lot of grace in the weeks leading up to the start of school. I’m going to stop reading the news. I’m going to stop working after 10pm. I’m going to run when the sun is out. I’m going to watch movies with my kids. I know I can get through this – one day at a time. I know I can find the light on the other side.

I need to be up this morning at 6:45am, and I was really stressed out last night that I’d snooze through my alarms, so when I woke up on my own at 6:10am I decided to come up and write a blog post. The idea of being jerked away in the middle of a sleep cycle did not sound fun, so I avoided it (and got to write a blog post)!

It’s Monday, and it’s a real Monday in that my kids need to get their butts up and get ready for camp at the (in their minds) ungodly hour of 7am. After a year plus of 8:30am wake ups, we desperately need this practice before the start of the school year.

Which is rapidly approaching! I’m basically in full “let’s get ready for school” mode! Now that my house is pretty picked up (the surfaces are clear but the bag of surface shit remains – today is the day I finally tackle it), I can actually clean the floors. I’m really pleased that we had people over this past week, which provided a much needed impetus to get the house in order. 16 months at home really did a number on the place, and to be perfectly honest, it hasn’t had a really deep clean since we rented it out on AirBnB in 2018. I’ve been doing a lot more of that kind of deep cleaning as I’ve picked it up, so steam cleaning the floors will bring us to a good place.

Later this week I’m going to drive to work (for the first time in a month!) to see what the staff room is looking like. The secretary is being paid hourly to move the old staff room into the (much smaller) new staff room and she indicated (in late June when I last saw her) that she would be done by now. If she’s not done I’ll ask my principal what I can do to get the space ready. I have a feeling that I’ll have two choices on moving: (a) do it myself on the timeline that I am comfortable with (and work many more unpaid hours) or (b) wait until it’s done for me (on a timeline that absolutely stresses me out). It’s a lose/lose situation, and when my classroom is a factor, I’m sure I’ll pick the “lose” where I lose my own time (doing it myself), and not my sanity (waiting for someone else to do it).

Not a super interesting post, but it’s where my head is at. I have a few other posts rattling around but they feel hard (especially the one about thoughts as I fill out our will and trust and rank our guardianship choices for our kids – ugh it’s so hard). So instead I come here with what’s been happening and what’s about to happen. I really am in “get it done” mode because I have two weeks of both kids in camp and I really do need to get stuff done. I want to start the year feeling prepared, and after all the upheaval of the pandemic that requires a lot of time and mental energy.

I am feeling all kinds of feelings about starting the school year with the delta variant raging (even here where we have high vaccination rates!). I still believe that my kids (and students) need to be at school full time, and in the end I am most worried that either district will pull back on their commitment to full time in person learning. But I’m also aware that with this new “hyper transmissible” (that is the phrase they are using now) variant of the virus, my (unvaccinated, under 12-year-old) kids will be returning in person at precisely the time when they have the most chance of actually getting sick.

Yes, our vaccination rates are high, but my kids go to the schools with the children of the populations in this area that are least likely to be vaccinated. My daughter will be attending a middle school where I’m assuming very few of the 7th and 8th graders (let alone 6th graders that have already turned 12, of which there will be very few in the fall) will be vaccinated. So they’ll all be packed into classrooms, with new groups of students every period, transmitting this new hyper transmissible variant as well as adults do (because of their age). Yes they will all be wearing masks* (the only thing keeping me sane right now), but it feels like only a matter of time until my daughter comes home sick, especially since they’re now saying the approval for kids under 12 won’t happen until mid-winter (I can’t actually find where “they” are saying this, but I’ve seen it referenced in multiple places so I’m assuming it’s been said).

I have so many feelings about how much in person learning my kids missed out on, only for them to have to return when their actual safety levels are probably at their lowest. I’m not going to go on a rampage about who is responsible for this situation, but suffice it to say, I’m really fucking mad about it.

I am deeply grateful that I will feel really safe seeing 150+ students in my classroom every day, and that I don’t have to worry about unknowingly bringing this hyper transmissible variant back to my family. Yes, there are breakthrough cases, but at this point it makes more sense for me to stress out about my kids getting it at school themselves, and not me bringing it back to them. These vaccines are incredibly effective and I’m trying hard not to let the media’s incessant (and confusing) coverage of mostly anecdotal breakthrough cases lead me to believe otherwise. (Hey, breakthrough cases are exceedingly rare, but here is a bunch of them that happened.)

Well that went a direction I wasn’t intending, but I guess I’m not surprised. I can’t really write about my “returning to school” mentality without getting into all the thoughts and feelings I’m processing about my kids getting 10 days of in person learning when it was much safer for them to be in a classroom, only to return full time now that delta is raging. Because that is absolutely in the background of all of it, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

How are you feeling about the fall, and the start of school?

*I feel so deeply for families in states where schools cannot require masks in the classroom – that is absolute insanity and I’m honestly not sure what I would do if my governor were asking me to have my kids sit in a room with 32 other unmasked adolescents, in an area with middling vaccination rates. I’m so relieved and thankful that mask mandates in our schools are assured.

It’s day four of operation clean up this piece of shit house. I wouldn’t say it’s going great. Even “going well” feels like a strong way to say it. But, it’s going? Kinda? Sorta?

The reality is, suck at this. I am just so, so bad at… well stuff. I want to say it’s just a faulty “cleaning stuff up” mechanism, but it’s more than that. My whole relationship with stuff is dysfunctional.

I’m not ashamed about it anymore. Or even angry. I’m just disappointed. I wish this cycle of accumulating unnecessary stuff, becoming overwhelmed by unnecessary stuff, and then battling against unnecessary stuff did not consume so much of my life. I’ve tried so many strategies to change my relationship with stuff, but none of them seem to work.

I was struck by it while I packed my classroom. All around me, everywhere I looked, were the consequences of my relationship with stuff. Anytime a thing might have made my teaching life easier, I purchased it. Every. Time. There was maybe never a time when I found something that I thought might help me and instead of buying it I thought, but what if I didn’t?

I’ve been trying to ask myself that. When I have somethings sitting in my cart. I ask myself… but what if I didn’t? I swear a lot of the time it’s like tumbleweeds. I can image all kinds of positive (always positive!) future probabilities when I get the thing (it will do this for me! I will feel this!) I even think about how I could eventually just pass it along if it no longer served me. But when I think, but what if I didn’t there just isn’t anything there. Maybe I need to embrace the nothingness, because nothingness doesn’t require anything! It doesn’t require paying, or waiting, or picking up, or eventually giving away. It requires absolutely nothing from me. I need more that requires absolutely nothing from me.

I want to make, But what if I didn’t? My new mantra. I want to ask that every time I’m making a commitment – to a thing, to a person, to a feeling. But what if I didn’t buy that thing? But what if I didn’t go to that event? But what if I didn’t make that commitment?

When I came home from the KOA I told myself I’d take a week off of getting stuff. But then Old Navy was having a sale so I went on for grey tshirts (my son’s new uniform requires a grey top), and then I threw a couple bras in my cart EVEN THOUGH THERE IS NOTHING I NEED LESS THAN BRAS RIGHT NOW. And I’m suddenly obsessed with the idea that I need a new throw for the cat’s chair because I hate the orange one I use when the regular one is in the wash (I’m trying to wash it weekly because she has allergies and sheds like crazy). I absolutely do not need a new throw for the cat’s fucking chair. I DO NOT. But I know I’m going to google it. I just know it.

I’m telling myself I’m going to return the bras. They aren’t even the right size (they would fit but not be all that comfortable). I’m telling myself not to google throws for the chair. But then I think, maybe if I google it I will realize there aren’t any cute ones and the idea will disappear. Of course there will be a cute one. There is always a cute one.

But what if I didn’t? What if I didn’t get a new throw? I know exactly what because we’ve lived that way for ALWAYS and it was FINE.

Right now all my surfaces are clear and there is a giant Costco bag full of the shit that was on all my surfaces. Today I sit down and try to figure out what to do with all that shit. I hope I can remember, as I am forced to manage each one of the annoying ass things in that bag that I think to myself, but what if I hadn’t? What would I be doing with this day if I hadn’t brought this particular thing into my house?

Maybe that will help me as I continue to ask, but what if I didn’t?

Because the answer is always, it would be fine. It would be better, even. Why is that so hard for me to remember?

How do you feel about your relationship with stuff?

My friends and I left the KOA yesterday afternoon. We got one of the girl’s bikes fixed, grabbed some supplies, dipped in the pool, and then hit the road. My daughter was sad to see me go, but she’s doing fine. I send her a picture of her cat and her dragon every day, and that helps. Another mom goes up Wednesday for her daughter’s birthday and the last two nights. They all come home Friday.

Meanwhile my son started karate camp, and Wednesday is my husband’s 40th birthday. His friend and I planned a little “double date” for Saturday, but we aren’t doing much on the actual day. He didn’t do anything besides FaceTime me on my birthday, so there is no pressure for me to reciprocate.

I was realizing that is a big part of why I no longer want much, if any, fanfare on my birthday – I worry that I won’t do as much for others when their special day comes. One of the women in this group celebrated a birthday just last month and I couldn’t even show up to dinner because my daughter and husband were so sick. Then they all got me a cake, and presents, and other stuff on my birthday. I feel awful about that. If there is anything that worries me, it’s being the friend who doesn’t do as much for others as they do for me.

At least I figured out why I was feeling so uncomfortable about all the focus on my birthday. Still, I enjoyed all the attention and spent the day on the lake feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

I have to admit, it’s so good to be home. Since June 26th I’ve only slept at home seven nights. After 16 months of barely leaving my house, it’s been a lot. And it’s ending at just the right time. The delta variant is changing the game and it’s making me nervous. We’ll be going back to our previous behaviors as soon as my daughter gets home from the KOA – only masked outdoor socializing for my kids and very limited indoor socializing with a small group for us (though probably even most of that will be outdoor – the fall is beautiful in these parts). I cannot wait until my kids can be vaccinated – I hope it happens soon.

I do worry a fair amount about the start of the school year. Everyone has committed to full, five days a week of in person learning, but the situation seems to be changing so rapidly. I worry about what can happen in four weeks, even in an area with high vaccination rates like our own. If we have to go back in distance learning I will lose my mind.

I’ve read quite a few articles about the people who are still dying from this disease and it makes me so depressed. How does one believe in the power of “natural consequences” after hearing stories of people who deny Covid even as it kills them? It’s one thing when someone doesn’t care about how their choices affect faceless strangers, but when they refuse to care about how they affect themselves and their families? I’m not quite sure how to process that. I can only imagine how demoralizing it must be for the health care workers who have to manage the care of those who won’t get vaccinated, even as they refuse to accept what is happening to them.

I wonder how many people lay there dying, and do realize how wrong they were, and wish they had made a different choice. That is heartbreaking to consider.

I’m so grateful that my family in Missouri are vaccinated. They don’t live in the counties that are being hit really hard right now, but numbers are rising everywhere in the state. I hope they can keep their kids safe until the vaccines are approved for children 11 and under.

Now that all our summer fun is over – and we were so lucky to enjoy a lot of travel with family and friends – I’m ready to turn my attention to my house and the upcoming school year. I plan to spend this week doing a big pick up around the house (I would love to call it a purge, but I doubt I’ll get that far – I just want EVERY surface clear and every random object to have a designated place). Then next week I will be back down in my classroom for a few precious hours a day to move my stuff and start setting up my new classroom. I’m starting to think about how I want this school year to look – how I teach changed so much in the last year, I need to think long and hard about what I want to keep, what I want to return to, and how both can coexist in a classroom. The obvious place to start is my overarching goals, so I should spend some of the coming weeks to articulate those, before I start thinking about how to incorporate what I learned last year into my in person classroom.

I’m also excited to embrace flexible seating in my new space. I had just started experimenting with before the pandemic hit – I literally got rid of my desks two weeks before shelter in place began! I know there are a lot more rules about seating now, but I’m hoping I can still adopt some nontraditional arrangements. I have a bigger classroom than most, and it already has a lot of furniture that can’t be moved to the newer, smaller staff room, so hopefully that will help. My principal is a very open minded, level headed leader so I know I’ll get as much support as can be provided in our return to full time in person learning.

Only 3.5 weeks until my first staff day. The count down to the end of summer has begun.,

When I was a kid a lot was made of my birthday. My summer birthday was celebrate multiple times – in May with my classmates, on my actual birthday in July, and later in the summer with other cousins whose birthdays fell in June, July or August.

My birthday was always a big deal. I expected it to be celebrated. I expected gifts and special events. I expected, kind of, a lot.

Gift giving was also important to me. I took great care in giving gifts, and I felt gift giving was one of my “love languages.”

And then I started sharing my life with a man who didn’t give gifts and didn’t celebrate birthdays.

It took a LONG time but I eventually became a person who didn’t want to do much for her birthday, and didn’t look forward to gift giving obligations (I eventually came to dread them).

My husband’s birthday is four days after mine, so I’m always acutely aware of what I have to do to “match ir surpass” his efforts. It’s usually nothing and I’m generally relieved. Since Mother’a Day is a month before Father’s Day this is always the case. After 13 years I appreciate the time and energy saved by not celebrating or gift giving on holidays or birthdays. It just doesn’t mean what it used to for me anymore.

The reality of how much my attitude towards birthdays and gift giving has changed has been really apparent in recent years, as my friends have taken on the task of celebrating my birthday. My 40th birthday happened last summer during the pandemic and my friend hosted a celebration in her backyard, despite it being very inconvenient for her at the time.

This year they are doing it again, trying to make up for the 40th blow out I couldn’t have by really doing up my 41st. They got all sorts of special things for me to enjoy today, little things they know I love. And everything is about me, about my day and about celebrating it (even though this a joint summer trip that all of us are a part of). I’m so unaccustomed to all the attention that it’s actually a little hard. Which honestly feels crazy to me; there was a time when the lack of fanfare around my birthday was so hard for me to handle – I believed that caring about it was a fundamental part of who I was (some people just CARED about their birthdays and others did not, I believed). But I’ve done a complete 180* and now I would maybe prefer my birthday be all but forgotten. I don’t mind that it’s mostly just another day – I kind of appreciate it. But now I have friends who want to celebrate it, and I’m not sure if I like doing that anymore. I’ve maybe switched sides on the “caring about my birthday” part of my identity I previously believed was intractable.

All this to say, today is my birthday and I’m turning 41 and my friends are celebrating me and I am appreciative and feel loved and I also have other complicated feelings about it. I’m not ungrateful, just a little confused.

Here’s to everyone on their birthday.

How do you feel about celebrating your birthday?

Well we did it! We made it through Phase 1! My son left this morning and now it’s just the (infinitely easier) group of girls. All the mom’s come later today and then the fun (Phase 2) really begins!

{Phase 3 is when three of us moms leave and the fourth has to stay and make the magic happen. I’m so glad that is not me! I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own bed again.}

The three nights with my son actually went really well. There were definitely spats between him and the girls, especially in the cabin, but most of the time it was fine. I framed the weekend as special mom/son time (thanks Irene!) and he seemed excited about that. He especially loved sleeping in the same bed as me for “all night snuggles.” (This was less fun for me because that boy is ALL OVER THE PLACE when he sleeps – but as long as he was sleeping I was grateful).

And we have been sleeping! After a rough first night the subsequent sleeps have been decent for everyone. It’s generally silent by 10:30 or 11pm and they aren’t up until after 8am. Pretty ideal idea you ask me.

The first day the girls were all over the place – doing a million things for 30 minutes or less. I found this exhausting and unsustainable. Yesterday (at my urging) they found a much better rhythm. Instead of going to the pool three times for 30-60 minutes a pop they just hung out down there for four hours. Much more manageable.

We also managed to start a fire and make s’mores (at my son’s request). I was quite proud of myself (camping is not my thing and I don’t have much experience with any aspect of it).

My dad picked up my son at 11:15 this morning. Right now the girls are eating lunch and playing Uno. Then they plan to head to the pool. I’m not really sure when the ladies are coming up, but we’ll likely be at the pool when they do. It’s going to be a good day.

Tomorrow we head to Clear Lake! Tomorrow will be a really good day.

Thanks for all your support as we attempt our DIY overnight camp extravaganza!

{Written early Wednesday…}

We made it! Getting everyone’s stuff, plus a ton of food, plus six bodies, into the SUV was tough, but we managed. We left later than we had intended, but the traffic ebbed while we were eating at In-n-Out and there was still plenty of daylight to explore once we arrived.

This place is great. There are tons of families here. It’s a super low key vibe. The kids can bike around by themselves. There is a playground with a little climbing wall. A pool. A jump pillow. Some little activities like mining for gems and tie die. There is a petting zoo too!

I’m giving the kids a lot of freedom. We have a set of walkie talkies with big enough ranges to work within the grounds. Right now three of the girls are biking around. My kids are still in the pool (my daughter wanted to keep swimming, which thrilled my son). Everything is outside so the kids don’t have to wear masks. It’s awesome.

The cabin is really cute. It’s the perfect size. There is a queen bed set up, a loft above that and a small room with bunk beds. There is a full bathroom and a kitchenette with a full fridge, microwave, and gas cook top. There is a little flat screen on the wall with basic cable and a couch. It’s great.

All told this will probably cost each of the four families about $1K. It’s a great deal for 10 nights / 11 days (including an afternoon on Clear Lake). I’m so glad we made this happen.

{I tried to upload some photos but I couldn’t make it happen – maybe when I get home.}

Yesterday was…overwhelming. A lot of errands with my kids and then more errands alone. A lot of shopping. A lot of running in to grab one thing. A lot of worrying I was forgetting (despite all my lists).

But now, after an early morning trip to the hardware store to get cinch lashes for the roof bag, I think we have it all. Or at least enough to get through the first three days.

I definitely took on too much of the planning and shopping, but since I’m the only one not working, and I have the Costco card, it made sense. I’m so glad I’m at the front of all this and can bow out after Sunday to let others take over.

My husband keeps marveling that I’m not at all concerned about being the only adult up there with five kids for three days. Honestly, four 11 year olds don’t worry me at all. Actually, I’m sad that really I’m just worried about one of them, my son, who I assume will make those three days incredibly difficult. I’m not quite sure how it got this bad (actually, I have plenty of ideas), but he’s not the kind, considerate kid I want him to be. He’s not even content most of the time. I know he’s going to be upset about all kinds of things during the next three days; no video games (the arcade is actually closed), no streaming services, no friends, nothing to do, etc.). He will be angry with the girls no matter how much they include him. He will be angry at me no matter how hard I try to make it fun.

It’s just… a major bummer. I know it’s hard to be the sibling who is only there because he’s, well, the sibling. I get it. But I think many kids could happy to hang out in a new place with lots of cool stuff (maybe not many, but just some?). And maybe he will be, if I hang out with him. And if that’s the case then great! I’m not expecting this to be restful or relaxing for me. Far from it. I’m totally ready to be with him 24/7 – I just don’t want that 24/7 to be nothing but bitch and moan. My son is SO GOOD at bitch and moan. He absolutely excels at it.

I informed my kids today that once school starts we won’t be playing video games during the school week. They can watch two shows a night, Monday through Thursday (so they can each pick one) and that is it (I want to phase this out eventually but that probably won’t happen for a while). They were NOT happy about it. I have been thinking about implementing this rule for the final three weeks of summer, when they are in camp, but I think that will be too much (for me as much as for them). At that point I’ll just bring their video game time to one hour (with no TV) so they aren’t just going cold turkey once school starts.

Our screen time really has ramped WAY up since the pandemic started. It’s not good for them. It erodes their contentment. My son, especially, struggles. We’ve taken a few days off, when his reaction to losing in a game or to stopping has reached totally unacceptable levels. We talk about how it’s not a punishment when that happens, it’s just a break when our reactions tell us that the current amount of play time is overwhelming. We talk a lot about whether video games actually make us feel good, and that if they only make us feel good while we use them, but make us feel bad a lot of the rest of the time, then we should rethink how we use them. He seems to get that.

When he has finished playing, but a long afternoon stretches in front of him, he can ratchet the begging for more video games to truly discouraging levels. But after about an hour he will eventually go read a book or do a quiet activity. We never back down from our screen time limits once we’ve made them for a day, so that helps, but man is the 30-60 before he finally accepts that hard on everyone.

At the beginning of the pandemic, when parents were assured that crazy levels of screen time were actually fine, we didn’t worry so much about how much they played video games. Just getting my son through the long morning with almost nothing school-related to do (while we worked!) felt like a major accomplishment. At that point, two hours in front of the Switch felt like a reward for all of us. But as the pandemic wore on we realized that 15+ months of this kind of screen time was way too much. Articles coming out at the time suggested the same. “Experts” were walking back there “do what you need to do, it’s fine!” comments to a more conservative, “well it’s been over a year of this and if we’d known how long this was going to last we could have suggested a more measured approach.” Of course, measured was impossible in the early stages of this crisis, and by the time it might have been more possible we were exhausted and overwhelmed by the uncertainty of when it would all end. We were given so few options, and we did the best we can, and I’m not going to dwell on it except to glean useful information for moving forward. An organized day of camp full of socialization and physical exertion is absolutely what my family needs to get our screen time back on track. And that starts again for us next week!

I didn’t mean for this to be a post about screen time, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot because the KOA will be a big reset for my daughter (less so for my son because he’s only going a few days). I know the way we’re using screen time no long serves us well, and I want to make changes, and changes require consideration and planning. So I guess that ended up happening here. SHU’s post this morning was probably also a motivator. 😉

And now it’s time to stop because the brief respite of my son being in the bath and my daughter being on a zoom call with her friends (they are all vibrating on the same insane frequency right now so it’s best to let them do it together via a screen lest they make their families crazy) is over. My son is now repeatedly entering his sister’s room despite her increasingly frustrated assertions that he JUST LEAVE. I suggested my son FT his friend who just came home from Hawaii, but he hates to FT so no. At 1:30 they get to play video games while I switch cars with my friend, get the roof bag on the top, and pack all the food. I guess the reset starts when we get there!

Do you help to reset screen time for your kids (or yourself?!)