Friday, January 14, 2022

Friday

I'm definitely treading water this week, waiting to see if the ice doesn't crack under my feet. Do you see why this convoluted upside down image makes sense? 

While I wait to see if anything changes for the worse (so far the answer is no, everything is the same, which is good!), I dream big. Of skiing skating with my grandkids. And Ed (the skiing part). Of skiing by myself. Far away.

As I think about all this, I get so very hungry for crispy breads and flaky croissants. So I tell Ed -- breakfast will be late, but it will be yummy!

(to the bakery!)

 



(... for croissants!)




It is cold and there's a dusting of snow. Just enough to make your skin prickle and your car skid. I'm not sure it makes sense to go skating with my inspired skating super champ, but I pack up the necessities just in case.

I pick up the little girl and offer her some choices. Evey day she has been testing negative and today I feel she is past the window of possible infection and so the farmhouse is again on the table. 

She wants it all.

And I thought about an article I'd read in the paper today about how difficult it is for families before an infection hits their home (avoiding it is so stressful!), and when it enters their home (do you segregate? isolate within? whom do you test and when?), and it continues to be difficult as days of waiting and watching become intense. Here's why: some, but not all family members will become infected. Sequentially. So you have new triggers of shifting quarantines. In the meantime, your sitters stay away, your kid's schools throw down their own reentry requirements which change as different household members get sick and which will be separate and different for your workplace. Those lucky enough to stay negative, nonetheless have to follow the labyrinthian protocols -- all there of course to make others maximally safe. But it's messy and complicated and it all changes over time. Just one tiny example: Sparrow was under a ten day quarantine, which the school district changed to five days, effective next week, thereby shortening his stay at home to... nine days! Believe me, the parents are happy to take that extra day of childcare!

So because it's been one crazy ride, I'm ready to give the girl anything she wants today. Including time on the ice. And believe me, nothing about this day's weather is pleasant. It's bitter cold again, there's a wind, and there's that intermittent dusting of snow. We were the only live beings outside!

 


 

 

Yet, she was happy.




And proud.




And I was proud too, mostly because she wanted this despite the bad weather and despite the fact that she also longed for a cozy time at the farmhouse.

Which she got.







It was quite dark by the time I drove her home. The car had that extremely cozy feeling it gets on wintry days when it is so cold out there and so warm inside. She was well fed and rested and ready to talk about school.

I listened to her tales of some child's misbehavior and I threw in the comment that maybe the boy under discussion wants to get attention or maybe he's just getting used to school. I note that her mommy, who volunteers in the classroom for about an hour or two every couple of weeks thought him to be a smart and interesting child.

Oh, he just shows off for the parents! He wants all of them to like him. He wants to seem cool.

I ask -- so... so, how many of your friends have parents volunteer in the classroom?

All of them! 

Really? Are they mostly mothers? I know that most mothers work, as do the fathers.

The volunteers are all mothers.

No dads?

One boy (the worst behaved, according to her) has a father who sometimes comes. But his mother also volunteers.

Yes, here we are in 2022 in a progressive community of parents who buy their girls books such as Rosie Revere, Engineer and She Persisted and Herstory. Just send your dads to school to sort books for the teacher already! Shush!

 

A crazy week indeed. The type that requires some quiet moments, maybe in the forest? I'll put that into my calendar for tomorrow.

With love...