Hello and welcome to an absolutely frigid, ya-you-betcha Saturday here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is January 23rd.
Yesterday the hubs celebrated his birthday. Another year around the sun, another year closer to 50. Not there yet, but, when you hit the backside skid of a decade, it's hard not to look around (or back) and say, "Whoa, wait a second! How did I end up here?" Ah, that strange, elusive feeling of aging when you realize your needle bends farther and farther to the right, towards the higher numbers of a decade. Sort of makes your chest get tight and feels like time is running out. Then you crest a new decade, the needle swivels back to the low-end numbers, and a body's got room to breathe again. "Yes," you say as you exhale. "There's still time."
In our neck of the Wannaskan woods, if you haven't already heard, there is a brand new skating path on the Warroad River. The Riverbend Skate Path is a 2-mile stretch, marked at regular intervals with cheerful conifers. The locals love it as loads of families have been lacing up their skates and giving it a go. "Necessity is the mother of invention." is a good quote that comes to mind. (Although, I can't help but to *politely* wonder why it took a pandemic and a break from youth hockey to spur action for an opportunity that has probably been staring Warroad in the face for a hundred years; like the last kid to get picked for teams, raising its arm until it ached, shouting silently, "Pick me! Pick me! I would be GREAT for your community!" On the other hand, better late than never, eh?)
Speaking of old ideas coming to life, the other big news on this side of the pond is that the powers that be finally aligned to move forward with a new wellness facility. Yet another reason to feel some excitement about 2021.
And, lastly, the saving grace of all saving graces for us parents who've been braving the frontlines of distance learning - kids returned to school.
A friend mentioned to me recently that some parents have opted out of distance learning altogether and headed over to homeschool which seems to be the secret stuff in the learning sauce. Less stressful, more dynamic, embracing critical thinking, curiosity, and creativity.
Kudos to them, but this mom here, clicking at this keyboard, is okay with sending her kids back to school.
It has been a crazy time in our house. Crazy is our normal, I know. And "Embrace the Crazy" has been 2020's theme song. But the holidays had an especially ramped up version of crazy that I am only too glad to be rid of.
I never realized just how cramped seven people in a 4-person house felt until the Oldest came back for Christmas break.
Hindsight is absolutely 20/20 and having her back made me appreciate just how much we had all stretched our limbs during her absence. We had filled her void with more breath and more calm; enjoying (at least from my perspective) the one-notch drop of the physical energy that comes with having one less body to accommodate.
She was all sharp elbows when she first returned. And loud. Good Lord, was she loud. Her volume, her clamor, her protestations. All the varying inflections of "Mooooooom!" And it wasn't just me as I observed the rest of the family tuck in their own elbows and grumble.
I'm a pretty positive person, but for all my positivity, as we counted down the last school days before Christmas, the distance learning only added to the mounting stress. The older kids lost motivation while the younger ones lost patience. The Kindergartener especially tanked, which I wrote about in a post titled Fresh Tomorrows (and Chocolate). (Check it out for parenting strategies involving chocolate!)
Like a marketing executive, I was coming up with a new ad campaign every week to keep spirits bright and bodies calm. (Note: I'm so grateful for one of my current reads, My Grandmother's Hands by Resmaa Menakam, which goes into great detail about how to overcome trauma with exercises that calm the body.) Our ski trip was like releasing the valve on the pressure cooker. Still in distance learning, we were desperate for a place to escape with new views, new spaces, and new experiences. An adventure.
It was during our vacation that I realized the Oldest would be returning to the East Coast in just a few days. My heart sank in sadness. Regret. Disappointment in myself because I had put more energy into being annoyed by her presence instead of soaking in her presence. I'd been so busy managing the crazy that I'd forgotten to really look at her and see her for the young woman she was after a semester at college.
"What happened to your hair?" I shrieked when I parted it down the middle to give her french braids. Her normally "thick and luxurious" blonde hair her brother secretly envies had thinned to frighteningly pathetic, limp locks. I learned she had been ignoring her finances - a looming tuition bill and a required deposit on next year's apartment - because she didn't know how to do online banking and feared "not doing right." (Note: I assumed that because she was a Gen Z she had inherent knowledge of this skill.) She'd stalled on a summer job application that had been sitting on her desk since Thanksgiving.
My baby, despite having just turned 19, needed me.
"Diet and exercise," I counseled, quick to repair the damage of my maternal neglect of the last three and a half weeks of her 4-week stay. I diagnosed stress and poor diet as the culprits of her malady. I googled a list of foods for healthy hair and instructed her to start taking a multivitamin. I cut her hair. Twice.
I showed her the ropes of online banking and cheered her on as she got her financial affairs in order. Together, we dusted off her resume and crafted a cover letter which resulted in a swift invitation for an interview, which she described as being, "way easier than the practice questions I had prepared myself."
I committed the last two nights before she left to listening to all the stories she hadn't yet told about her first semester away from home. To bake chocolate chip cookies for the flight back and to watch Sliding Doors starring Gwyneth Paltrow. "Look at that haircut," I remarked of Gwynnie's short locks. "That would look great on you!"
I often worry that I will unintentionally become a mother who doesn't love her children enough. In pursuit of my own non-motherly goals, yes, sometimes I drop the ball, resulting in major fouls, outs, and even a lost game or two. But, I also hope that, as long as I remember to pick up the ball and keep trying, my kids will know that I promise to do my best to stay in the game of mothering and be there for them - even when they grow up.
On This Day
Remembering You
Kim
Another bank-shot blog post, you do well from the free-throw line every game!
ReplyDeleteGreat post. Please retire those fears you don't love your kids enough.
ReplyDeleteRegarding your comments on aging, some wisdom from your elder. The 40s, 50s, and 60s are pretty much what you say - the needle bending right or left. However, having turned 70, I can say that my experience is that I'm counting back from 90 rather than forward through coming decades. (Truth be told, I'm counting back from 81, another low, but high number.) Not much time left, although that's relative since impermanence tells us the nasty-kind reaper is always looking over our left shoulder.
ReplyDeleteOn the subject of age, Tereza's 19 does look pretty good from here, I admit. On the other hand, I have compassion for her for at least for the next couple of decades as she runs the gauntlet of love, work, values, friendships and enemies, children (or not), religious choices, and her "place" in life. Talk about looking backwards!
But then, she has a mother who is waaaay above average and who loves her children beyond measure. No worries - you are a great mom. I've observed and told you that for at least a decade of your mothering stint.