I’ll just give it to you straight:
I have been all over the emotional map this week, for a plethora of reasons. And since I usually feel a bit better after purging things on this here blog, I’m going to just go ahead and let it all out.
But before I ramble, I’ll issue this very important disclaimer:
My challenges are mostly mental, at present, and all things that will lessen and eventually pass.
There are far more important things going on in the world than any of my current “challenges.”
But if you’re voluntarily pulling this post up to read it, you’re here to follow along with our daily happenings.
And, boy, do I have a smorgasbord to share.
So...buckle up and enter at your own risk!
And hopefully I’ll feel a little steadier after organizing my thoughts and getting them all out.
School
Okay, peeps.
The subject matter that is currently taking up the most mental capacity by a long shot.
School.
Our girlies are returning to full-time, in person school on Monday, after 7.5 months at home in our bubble. And Little Man will have his first day of in-person learning at his new preschool on Tuesday.
(Deep breath.)
Needless to say...it’s a lot to wrap my brain around. Especially as it’s all happened rather quickly, when it wasn’t really on our near-term horizon as a household.
However.
The dominoes have fallen in a way that makes the hubby and I feel that this is the best decision at present for our family, so we’re at least at peace with ripping this bandage off.
Now...some context:
Our school district has taken a wonderfully measured approach to re-opening in-person learning. It’s been a phased approach with at least two weeks between each phase of incrementally allowing students back on campuses. And it’s operated seamlessly, thus far (at least from our perspective).
Luckily, up to this point, returning to in-person learning wasn’t even an option for our household, as we didn’t meet the qualifications for the initial phases that prioritized children with special learning needs and/or children with parents whose jobs were negatively impacted by the demands of virtual learning.
So we’ve just been sitting tight and doing our thing, without the burden of a looming decision.
And though it’s been a very demanding nine weeks of educating my babies from home (understatement of the century), it’s also been very rewarding and precious in that it’s—hopefully—a once-in-a-lifetime thing that comes with many small positives and special family time.
But as the phases of re-opening progressed so smoothly, we received word last week that virtual learners would be condensed to only a single teacher per grade level as of next week. And we were at risk of losing Chica’s current teacher and having Chica shuffled to the only remaining Zoom Class, that could possibly include up to 34 students, as allowed by TEA guidelines.
Oye.
Now, I should note here that, of course, we’re concerned about the effects of this on Chicklet, as well. However, her Zoom time has averaged only one-third of Chica’s Zoom time on any given day. Therefore, any teacher or classmate attachments have been minimal, so her challenges are equal, but very different.
So...we basically had a quick 24-hour time period to decide if we wanted to bite the bullet and return to in-person learning, given the changes we knew were coming.
And we decided to do it.
And if the girlies are returning to in-person learning, there’s no reason to hold Little Man back.
So...here we are.
Our household is full of a lot of mixed emotions about this, but predominately, excitement and anxiety, in various percentages that vary by individual, ha.
I’ve spent a lot of time talking with my babies about how they’re feeling, and making sure they know it’s okay to run the whole gamut of emotions.
But I’ve also spent a lot of time hyping them up about this exciting return to some semblance of school day normalcy.
And I’ve also, also spent a lot of time trying to scramble to organize things we haven’t dealt with in nearly eight months. Like backpacks and lunch boxes and school clothes and school supplies—not to mention face masks and hand sanitizer and a whole hoard of other only-in-the-Covid-age-of-school necessities. Like the special car tag we had to pick up from school today (hence the pic in this post), to aide with the vastly different drop-off and pick-up procedures.
So...in summary:
Our home bubble is bursting.
In person learning is happening.
Bedtimes and wake-ups will be shifting.
Meltdowns will be happening.
Every household sneeze or cough or sniffle will now be a source of utter panic.
And the irony is not at all lost on me that this major household shift is happening as case numbers across the nation are rapidly rising again.
But.
We’re going to proceed with caution, do our best to follow procedures and guidelines. And take it week by week.
Obviously, much more on this subject in the days to come. :)
Kitchen Chaos
Okay...next massive area of angst this week: we sort of pulled the trigger on a kitchen project that has thrown us topsy-turvy.
Anyone reading this who followed along with our hellish move and home renovation last year is probably going, What???? Why are you doing a kitchen project??? Didn’t you just gut that kitchen last year??
And the answer would be, Yes. Yes, we did.
However.
During that hellish renovation that involved not one but two criminal contractors, and a lot o’ angst and tears, the backsplash in our kitchen was installed incorrectly. On uneven walls and with terrible craftsmanship that showed inconsistent grout lines and grid marks, and was just sort of a hot mess express.
But we were just so dang happy to have a functioning kitchen at all, that we didn’t focus on that one problem amidst an entire kitchen overhaul.
We were weary.
And too beaten down to fight with any of the remaining contractors—who would have just pointed fingers to predecessors, since the criminal contractors began the job, and others completed it.
And, honestly, nobody but us probably stared at all of the issues with the backsplash anyway.
So we just let it slide.
And isn’t it just the perfect testament to how a picture can be deceptive, because I’ve posted oodles of shots of our kitchen without ever calling attention to our backsplash problem. So...yeah. Appearances can be deceiving. And we highlight only the things we want, yes?
All that said...thanks to this age of Covid, combined with the ongoing process of the hubby’s gut rebuilding that requires us to cook all meals, all the time, we spend all the time in the world at home, in our kitchen.
And also thanks to this age of Covid, and the traveling that couldn’t happen this year, we siphoned some funds and decided to tackle this project as a sort of unexpected bright spot to this insane year.
Definitely not a smart idea to attempt this while also virtual schooling my babies. I mean, it’s been a week.
But the work will actually be complete tomorrow, things are looking incredible, and I have every hope in the world of not needing any sort of cosmetic work to the interior of this house ever again (so help me). Or I’m just throwing in the towel and moving.
So...more on the kitchen fun and angst another day. But for now, please be kind and don’t judge us for this re-doing of something that was just done 18 months ago. Nobody could feel more insane about it than I do, and yet...do what makes you happy, amiright?
Old Work Life
Okay...now for the third and final emotional unpacking that has really taken up a lot of my mental real estate in this past 24 hours: a work-related news story involving my old career and place of work.
Long story short (and to the sheer entertainment of my kiddos, who hilariously only believe me to be Mama)...once upon a time, I had another life and career in advertising.
I held a position in Brand Management for the largest independently-owned advertising agency in the U.S., and spent many years in a love/hate relationship with my very demanding job.
And that agency is now under massive fire, facing justifiable backlash that might be insurmountable. And it’s definitely taken me back to a time in my life that’s a trippy head space to live within.
If you’re interested in the bare bones headlines of what’s going on, here you go:
I am devastated for the likely hundreds of individuals—including former colleagues and associates—that might not have a job when the dust settles from all of this.
And—truth be told—aside from this newsworthy, company-foundation-shaking series of events, it’s taken a mental toll to reach out and connect with people from that old life of mine. As it often does when we connect with individuals who were once important in our past. It’s not simply a quick text; it’s often an overdue catchup and a reminiscing that brings both the good and the bad.
In light of all this, I can do nothing but pray for those employees caught in the crossfire of this developing situation. And perhaps take a moment to express gratitude for the career I did love—even when it demanded so much from me.
As part of that agency, I made dear friends, connected with long-term mentors, witnessed pure genius creativity in real time, and had the pleasure of establishing client relationships that held genuine affection and still exist to this day.
As part of that agency, I traveled the country and beyond, conducting focus groups with peers I greatly respected and enjoyed, in Phoenix and Baltimore, Boston and Atlanta, LA and Tampa.
I attended conventions in the deserts of Las Vegas; planning meetings in the winter beauty of Vero Beach; held public relations conferences at partner offices on the Magnificent Mile in Chicago; spent a glorious spring day walking the National Mall between still more focus groups with colleagues and former D.C. residents that doubled as my own personal tour guides.
I luxuriated in a snow fall during a commercial shoot in magical Montreal, and spent time in Toronto and Quebec with one of my greatest female cohorts, who was my favorite strategic collaborator.
I cringed over the extravagance of television production in Miami, and once drew the “short straw” of giving up my New Year’s to a client in Santa Monica, and the duty of attending The Rose Bowl parade and a USC football game in the Colosseum.
I had the pleasure of spending year over year in a gratifying partnership with generational citrus growers in Florida, spent time in the weeds of financial audits and new business pitches—and worse, still—retention pitches.
I traveled to London simply for the expertise of a director that could shoot slow-motion orange juice footage better than anyone stateside, and remember the call I received that same year, when a client asked me about this new thing called Twitter.
I was challenged to my very limits, day after day—as a manager, a strategic thinker, an advocate of both my internal teams and my clients, even when their preferences were at odds, and I held great pride in my employment by this organization—even when it took too much from me, without giving enough in return.
Mostly, I was able to leave this agency with a sense of a job well done to the best of my ability, and the feeling that I could move on to the next beautiful chapter in my life because I’d spent time in the rarefied air of some of the best in the industry, capable of spinning magic and quantifying results. And I’ll forever be grateful for all it gave me.
And I can only hope it will survive, with hard lessons learned, to give others a chance at such a career.
I’ll be thinking of all those impacted.
And praying for the best outcome that pushes the envelope of true equality and respectful collaboration forward.
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