I can only laugh when reading the last few lines of my previous post.
Still, this has been a better year than last, despite the pandemic and the shutdown and the general upending of everything. It's been a year of transformation.
About the time I wrote my last post, my dad (who works for an international company and interacts with many travelers) came down with some kind of exhausting cough and general malaise that lasted through all of January. My mom was sick as well; my oldest brother's family; Whiz Kid missed two days of school due to a fever, which he was very unhappy about, and complained loudly of an inability to taste or smell anything for about a week. I was pretty sick, but not for too long. Several coworkers seemed to come down with a bad flu as well, and all were inexplicably told they tested negative for the flu.
I'll give you one guess as to the likely cause.
In early March, my company held their bi-annual company-wide training convention in a nearby state, and I attended for the first time. It was a big one since we were expanding the firm into a new area of the country. I don't handle crowds of strangers well anyway, and with the growing awareness that a pandemic was upon us, I would have canceled my plane ticket if I could. Many of the attendees did so at the last minute, even without refunds. It was undoubtedly one of the most stressful trips I've ever taken. I must have received at least 5 emails from the school district over the course of 36 hours, each with new and changing information, culminating in the announcement that the children would not be returning to school the next day and until further notice. My coworker and I returned home on a near-empty flight to a near-empty major airport; there was a surreal feeling in the atmosphere everywhere. By the following week the state was in full lockdown, and although our business was considered essential, we were being sent home for the forseeable future by the company CEO, because most of us had the ability to work from home. I had not previously considered myself an employee who could work from home - it certainly isn't easy - but when an emergency hit, all sorts of accommodations were made at the last minute. My company is awesome.
I'm sure that I'm not the only person who feels like 2020 started in March.
For the first few weeks of lockdown, everything was sort of in limbo. School wasn't mandatory for the kids, so we largely ignored it. My divorced brother who spends his weekends here at my parents' house with his kids didn't visit them in the beginning; his job would have required him to quarantine due to crossing state lines. As time went on and it became clear this would stretch out into the long term, that restriction was loosened and he resumed the weekend visits. Thank God for that since seeing her cousins every weekend is a major stabilizer for the Princess.
Ah yes, the Princess. Her therapy was finally getting into a good swing, but the shutdown put an end to that. She's one of the many kids (and adults, including Yours Truly) who needs in-person interaction for it to be meaningful. Virtual school was all kinds of a mess. Virtual therapy was just not happening. The last quarter of the school year was pretty much a wash for her and for Little Bear, who I am now going to simply call "Bear." He's a big boy. She also entered the first stages of puberty, with all the attending mood swings. It seems so unfair that she has this to deal with on top of everything else. However, it does seem that the cognitive changes have helped her overcome the depression.
Finally, at long last, the summer arrived.
It wasn't exactly the ideal summer, being stuck at home; but it gave us some much-needed breathing room. Working from home allowed me to spend time in the garden; research lots of things that interested me, such as aquatic plants; and completely rearrange the apartment. The stimulus check, coming on the heels of my annual tax return, gave us enough money to FINALLY purchase decent beds that were suited for our cramped space and adult sizes. The Nar-Anon meetings were shut down, and so was my yoga studio, both of which were a big loss. I really need yoga as physical therapy, and there is no arrangement of furniture that will give me enough floor space to do it virtually from the apartment. On the other hand, our state also began distributing extra food benefits; and for the first time ever, I've had a working budget, one that truly covers the bills and all our basic expenses. I finally bought clothes that actually fit my growing kids. The boys long since outgrew anything available in the kids' consignment shops, and it's not easy to find adult men's clothes on a budget.
Another revelation of this summer was the truth about my parents. I have tried for so many years to convince myself that they've changed, that they recognize the errors they made in our upbringing, that they really do believe in a compassionate and loving Creator and not in the punitive, hard-hearted, unforgiving tyrant they demonstrated to us through their actions. Sadly, the past several months have left no room for doubt that I was wrong. Between the pandemic and the political unrest, they've shown once and for all that they do not believe in the sort of God who would send his son to redeem humanity. They believe in a God of wrath and violence, always of course directed towards the people they disagree with. The sort of God who creates things so he can destroy them in anger when they fail to earn his good will, who defines "love" as "unquestioning obedience," and who allows evil to prosper as a punishment to all the good people who just weren't quite good enough. We do not mean the same things when we say the words "God" and "Christian." My parents are generous and sometimes even kind towards those in their orbit - they allow us to rent at a reduced price, and they bought us a car this year which is no small thing - but they have no compassion for outsiders. The things they do for us are the same things that most parents and grandparents do for their families when they have the ability, the same things I hope to be able to do for my own kids someday. I owe them gratitude, but I can no longer pretend to agree with their values. I do not want to be living with them if the political unrest boils over into actual danger where we live. We're not on the same side.
The kids returned to virtual schooling in late August, and it was somewhat better than the spring. Certainly better organized. It still wasn't working for the Princess, however. We tried taking her off the depression meds, hoping they would prove to be unnecessary. It became clear that she needed something, however, so they started her on a prescription for the ADHD instead. That has helped substantially. There were some unpleasant side effects for the first two weeks, but after that it's been fairly smooth sailing as far as moods. She's persistently grouchy and snappish, like many adolescents, but it's not the self-harming and depressive behaviors of the previous year. When hybrid school resumed, they agreed to take her back four days a week instead of just two. It's been wonderful.
I was able to return to work two days a week when hybrid resumed, and last week I was finally granted a promotion that has been in the works most of the year! I'm so excited. No more food stamps, and at long last I'll have a paycheck that covers all our basic expenses with a little left over for savings. Even better, this position will lead into much higher paid position in a couple of years. There is still hope that we can live like a real family for a short time before Whiz Kid moves out. He will be 16 next year, and it bothers me intensely that at no point during his childhood have we ever had a real home. We've never had a family room, or indeed a place big enough to all gather in our own space. His entire life has been lived crammed into corners and extra rooms in someone else's house. I used to take the kids to the grocery store cafe every couple of weeks and we would all eat together, but that closed when the pandemic struck, probably for good.
Now Thanksgiving is coming up. We won't be seeing the in-laws; the kids' dad was recently released to him mom's care after spending another 6 months in jail for cutting off his ankle bracelet and absconding from parole for three weeks. Between that and the exploding case counts in our area, it makes more sense to stay home. However, since my anti-masking parents are proceeding with their usual big event, inviting lots of their anti-masking friends in addition to family, we will still have to quarantine for two weeks afterwards. I need to the schools to stay open, and they have already had a few cases. If I want them to stay open in the long term, we have to do our part, and quarantining makes more sense than refusing to participate in Thanksgiving, since we can't use the excuse of going somewhere else. I hope that all goes well.
