Gold With No Green

aka "Winning the Moment but Losing the Day" "

but also...

aka "Doing Our Best"

We try to do right by holidays in our household.  Today was St. Patrick's Day and the morning brought magic, but I am afraid to say the holiday as a whole really didn't get the weight it deserved.  The shutting down of schools, and restaurants and social interactions make for some interruptions in how we usually try to do things around here. 

The girls set up their Leprechaun traps with arrows throughout the house in hopes that this year would be the one that they wake up to a little green-hatted irishman trapped inside the rainbow painted cardboard contraption.  Cheyenne says the legend is that if you trap a leprechaun, he will undoubtedly offer up a fortune of gold in exchange for his release.

Well they got close, they did indeed trick and trap the little fellow, but he had his trusty knife on him and was able to carve out a little door as an escape.  Because of their gallant efforts, he left each of them a little vile of REAL gold and said they earned it, but that he is far too wily and clever to actually be caught for long.

It was an early morning of excitement of the earned gold, disappointment to have been so close and not prevailed, and then we got dressed and paid no attention to the other things that St. Patrick's Day usually brings.  None of us even intentionally put on green or did any pinching or wishing luck.  We went about the day until the evening arrived and we realized that besides the first 15-20 minutes of the morning, this holiday that the girls have literally been preparing for and talking about for weeks and weeks, passed us by without another mention.  As the Leprechaun put it at the end of his note -- Better luck next year.  

Although not green or gold or Irish in any way, this was another winning moment of the day

Little Miss Corona and the Day That Lasted a Year

I wrote this following the all-staff meeting regarding the

school closure and expectations during that time.  It was

held in our School Auditorium on Monday 3/16.

There once was a little monster named Corona.  Although tiny in size, she was very, very heavy.  In fact even the mere thought of her weighed as much as the whole world. And on this particular day the thought of her was on every person's mind and thus the people were straining every muscle just to support the tiny monster.  As the humans gathered in the largest room available, you could feel little Corona's presence everywhere, and see her heaviness on each human's shoulders.  Although they needed more than ever the comfort of the crowd, the people kept physical space between one another, fearing that standing close may multiply the weight.  So from afar, they attempted to send concern and support through the air with their eyes.  These messages were received with gratitude, but honestly did very little to lift any of the weight they were burdening.

The humans hoped for a speedy meeting, but little did they know that not only did little Miss Corona expel exponential weight, she also had the power to lengthen the minutes into hours and the hours into days and the days to years.  So as the humans, sat listening, trying to understand what the next days held, the minutes melted into the ground and spread out like thick, black tar.

The humans nodded through the meeting hoping the little monster was something they could someday understand, accepting that in the moment, there was nothing much to do but listen and nod.  As the meeting closed, and the people trudged out into the world of unprecedented reality, the little Corona monster followed them, both individually and collectively, into their work, into their homes and into their dreams.  And when the people woke the next morning, there she was climbing onto the humans' shoulders once again but by that new morning a whole year had passed for those humans that stood in that meeting.

So as the people braced their muscles and took slow steps into that morning, they realized that Little Miss Corona would be a part of their lives for a while.  She would continue to add the weight to their shoulders and length to their days for quite some time.  But in this time, their muscles would adjust and their hours would be filled, and eventually they would learn to accept little Corona, her weight and her time.  The little monster would not stay forever and there would come a time in the future that the humans would look back on the day that lasted a year and of the meeting of melted tar minutes and strained muscled humans with kind compassionate needy eyes, and little Miss Corona would have, in the end, gifted them strength that they didn't have before, and connection that they didn't know they needed.

Clearing Out for Staying In

While there is a general consensus across the nation that what needs to happen is to hoard in any way possible asap and fill the house with everything that you could possibly need for up to 3 years...

...my immediate instinct tends to be the opposite - to throw everything I don't need away, minimize my life in every possible way, get it all OUT!  Don't get me wrong, we did some stocking up ourselves, but in terms of furniture, old clothes, boxes in closets, old toys, books, keepsakes - out out out.  Perhaps it is the gypsy in me that when crisis comes, it is in my blood to assume that at any point I may need to carry all my belongings (and my babies) on my back.

So this gypsy and her gypsy babies and her most understanding, patient and supportive partner spent the weekend cleaning and ridding our house of as much as we could.  I moved both girls into the same room temporarily with the original intention of literally having an empty room to use as a clean pallet for unpacking old boxes, organizing and sorting things and a holding spot for a project that may need a few days to complete.

Because we are going to be in our house many more hours per day than we are used to, I also want a space for us to use as an escape if we need some calm or clarity.  My minimalist heart sings in empty rooms.  We have a simple phrase in our house - we simply say "I need to take a minute" when we feel overwhelmed, unsure, anxious that our feelings are getting so big they may bubble right over the top and spill all over before we are ready.  If any one of us says "I need to take a minute," the rest of us back off and no questions asked, the space is given, the time is allowed, for the thoughts to be processed and the feelings to settle a bit.  After such "minutes" there is never an expectation for explanation or sharing, we just move forward in conversation unless voluntarily brought up.  It truly is a pause, an opportunity to start fresh.

In a time such as this, I am anticipating an increase in big feelings - particularly the ones that are confusing, overwhelming and hard to process.  I am hoping this new empty room will be a nice place for such minutes and feelings.  A clear pallet, a blank canvas, a true neutral space.

The girls sharing a room has also instilled a raw comfort that I didn't know I needed in this time of crisis.  Having them share a play space and dream space just feels right.  Being able to stand in the doorway at night and hear both of them breathing in tandem, regulates my heartbeat to such a trusted rhythm that for those moments, staring into the dark room, it is as if the walls and the words cease to exist and there is only the heavy, deep breaths reverberating and the slow heartbeats in my chest.

Also, if the moment comes to throw our belongings and our babies on our backs, we only need to go into the one room to gather them -- efficiency along with comfort!  Can't ask for more than that.

The new shared room...

Last Day of School at Tulita for a While

This is the last day that we will be heading to school for a while.  While our world is in corona-chaos, schools will be closing for 4 weeks.  Although I know that we will establish a new rhythm and ride the wave together over then next month, we will miss our routines and our friends.

It is kind of like the universe was listening to the news these past few weeks (I mean she always is listening, no?) and was like "Closing everything up?  Want people inside?  Roger... 10-4... No problem..."  and then rain fell like it hasn't all year. As I said - riding the wave together - with the cosmos in tow.

Here are some pictures from this morning at drop off.

See ya later, Tulita.

We will be missing you.