It’s that time of year again when I get pensive and turning inward. It’s not that I’m not always thoughtful, but this time of year always seems to shine a spotlight on transitions and change, the things we have to adjust to, the things we shed and the new challenges we put on.

And boy, have we had a lot of things to adjust to this year! I don’t even know where to begin.

In these pandemic days life is weirder than it’s ever been. Just writing “pandemic days” is bizarre! There is really no point in trying to explain that the world is in the throes of a COVID-19 crisis. Everyone knows.

We are fine. Safe. Lonely. Though we four are all together and sheltering in place safely and comfortably. We have plenty of food, good jobs and income coming in. We have online school and our hobbies and internet and plenty of Netflix to watch. We are also very sad about missed opportunities and we are desperately missing our friends.

We are missing the freedom to live our lives with love and connection and without fear of this stupid virus! We miss play dates and parties and traveling.

But we’re OK. Our fluffy dogs are a comfort. Our hobbies are a comfort. The boys have their video games. Ian’s playing guitar more than ever, though he wishes he could play with the band and for an audience.

I don’t know how to upgrade this WordPress blog. It’s been so long since I wrote here that the version I am using is grossly out of date. The technology has passed me by. At least until I figure out how to catch up again. (Learning how to upload my photos to this blog is one challenge that jumps to mind. The way I used to do it doesn’t work anymore. They call it an upgrade.)

Life is full. I rarely feel a lot of prose building in me lately. Maybe it’s a kind of writer’s block. Maybe it’s just exhaustion. Many days are about putting one foot in front of the other, addressing the next most pressing thing, staying on top of all the most important ones as best I can.

I’m feeling listy.

• I freaking love murder mystery shows. Lately, Shetland.
• We had an awesome, enormous meal out last night in celebration of my Dad’s and Asher’s birthdays.
• I am so glad that my uncle is healing from his several heart surgeries last November and December. He’s got a pile of unpleasantness still to go through, but he’s happy and alive and happy to be alive!
• Lucas has started his driver’s ed online course! Together Ian and I drive 2 hours a day to get him to and from his high school. Although I don’t want to rush him into driving if he’s not ready, I really want him to be driving fairly soon.
• Work has been ridiculously busy lately. I can’t say much about it. It’s tough to be meticulous, thorough, and fast. I get a long weekend soon and I’m really looking forward to it.
• Even though I read all day for a living, I have been reading for pleasure as much as possible, for escape and fun. I read to wake up–if I am lucky and I get my way. I also read to wind down after work and especially before bed. I usually have many books going at once. Lately, I have adopted audiobooks for when I am commuting or if my eyes are too tired (my eyes do get tired of reading on screens). I have the Libby app for audiobooks; it’s great. It makes audiobooks free! I have Kindle books on my phone, for in-between moments (waiting in line, lunches alone. etc.). I love paper books the best, hardcover or paperback; I must have a physical book in case my phone battery dies! I have a book at Asher’s bedside for our bedtime reading, and two or three on my nightstand. (My favorite novels lately are The Girl on the Train, The Immortalists, Erotic Stories for Punjabi Widows, and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.)

We returned on Sunday from a glorious Thanksgiving holiday in Seattle, Washington. There we were hosted by Mike and Kimmie and got to spend some comfy, quality time with them and other friends we rarely see. This was Asher’s first trip to Seattle, and he fell for it hard, not least because he loves blustery, rainy days and it Seattle obliged us with rain.

Our journey up, by plane, was kind of hellish, as fog had socked in SeaTac and the pilot flew us round and round above Portland for a while. Then he landed us in Portland, which was good because we were able to buy sandwiches, but then we were out of queue and didn’t actually make it to land in Seattle until 4 p.m. Originally we were supposed to arrive at 8 in the morning. Long long very boring day with not enough food for my hungry boys. The worst part is that it robbed us of a precious day in Seattle.

HOWEVER, once we were there, our vacation was on! We saw Tony on Tuesday night. And on Wednesday we got to explore Pike Place Market with Kimmie, visiting food stalls for Thanksgiving supplies and kitschy gift shops and comics stores for fun. I ate a duck burrito for the first time.

Thanksgiving Day was lovely. We cooked and hung out. We made multiple grocery store trips–so much that Mike called it Five Store Turkey. All the side dishes were vegan, and Kimmie made a stuffed seitan dish and a glorious mushroom gravy. Ian roasted root vegetables. Trevor and Sara and their son S came for dinner and Trevor made several delicious desserts. I burned my brussels sprouts because I was so busy relaxing and visiting. My cranberry sauce turned out well, however. A few other friends dropped by near the end of the day.

The kids loved getting to play Mario Kart and we watched Ant Man and Wasp. S took to Asher immediately. It was fun seeing Asher interacting with him and being the bigger kid.

On Friday, we met up with Trevor, Sara, and S again and made a walking tour of University of Washington. Trevor attended grad school  and also taught there. So he shared some of his experiences and showed us around the campus. Unfortunately, the library and all the buildings were closed for the holiday.

We also got to go to the MoPop and enjoyed the Marvel exhibit. Asher loved the fantasy collection (Gimli’s axe! Saruman’s staff!) and the horror collection. What is it with the fascination with horror films even though he’s never seen one. (Or has he?)

Because airfare during Thanksgiving weekend is atrocious, we elected to drive home. Even with car rental, gas, and one night in a hotel, we probably saved $1,000. And after our flight up, the kids weren’t too keen on getting on an airplane again. They weren’t especially keen on driving 13 or so hours home, either, but it is what it is. Honestly, traveling with these guys is really easy now. They were wonderful, even under the worst of circumstances, and I can’t wait to take them back to Seattle.

We stopped briefly in Portland and visited Brianna and Jasper. Haven’t seen her since summer of 2015.

I’m so grateful for this trip, for the opportunity to do extraordinary things with my family. Ordinary time is sacred too, of course, but exploring the world together is a privilege.

* I love my friends. They are brilliant, generous, compassionate, kind, forgiving, talented, hard-working, committed, and wise.
* You might not guess it from its name but Monster Manor is the most hospitable and comfortable place in the U.S.
* Seattle has charmed the socks off both my boys. (I couldn’t be happier about this.)
* Lucas really liked U of W!!!! I don’t blame him one bit!
* 5- and 6-year-old boys are TONS of work. I have had no less than three ample opportunities to rediscover this fact. My kids are so EASY now, comparatively.
* Sometimes you can befriend a 16-year-old girl and then see her periodically and again when she’s 36 (approximately) and be wowed all over again, for a thousand more reasons.
* Pike Place Market is the bomb. I wanted lots of stuff for myself; I bought two refrigerator magnets.
* It’s pretty rad to book and pay for a hotel while traveling down the road. And it gives you a good goal.
* Washington and Oregon have WAY more water than we do. California has WAY more people.
* With climate change, I think I should buy a few thousand acres up north–get a jump on future agribusiness.
* We returned to Sacramento at that vivid autumnal peak, when the trees are practically vibrating with their most intense colors, and you wonder if your eyes are seeing some infrared wavelengths you can’t see at any other time of the year. It’s magic. Don’t blink.
* Alice Hoffman is still my fav author. Here on Earth was deliciously dark. I love an unhappy ending.
* I had a tightly, tidily scheduled workweek planned; then today it unraveled, opening ugly unbillable gaps. I always want to ask PMs, “When exactly did you realize your document would be late? And why did you not inform me then?”
* I can hustle like a badass with 13 years of self-employment under her belt: I now have plenty of replacement work.
* Phone, “unbillable” is a word. I want “unkillable” work even less than I want unbillable work.
* Asher believes that Avatar the Last Airbender should be a Thanksgiving tradition the world over. He is probably not wrong.
* It appears that my father will take us to, or pick us up from, the airport at any time: even 3:45 a.m., which is a bloody ungodly hour. Good to know!
* Alaska gave us each a $75 discount on our next flights because of our colossally bad 10-hour day flying to Seattle. Where should we go?
* Kimberly’s mushroom gravy and Mike’s turkey and vegan stuffing are divine.
* It’s possible that my burned Brussels sprouts were partially redeemed by my warmly spiced cranberry sauce. It’s great on bagels, too.
* Ian may be allergic to cats.
* Lucas has been to Seattle twice and has yet to see Mt. Rainier. It was hiding both trips.
* Our dogs are tiny fluffy stupid misbehaving dummies who are naughty and that bodes ill for future trips. I missed them.
* My uncle is making (slow) progress after his third (“The Works”) cardiac surgery. I am thrilled.
* I estimate that Asher and I are on page 4,490 of Percy Jackson Takes Over My Life With Ten Books.

I’m working up a post about our wonderful family vacation to San Diego, but it’s taking a fair amount of time and there’s just not that much free time these days. Some procedural things I used to do when writing a blog post have changed, and it seems like the new way takes longer. I don’t know.

Let’s see, it’s Saturday before Halloween, which is one of the best days of the year. Tonight we’ll be attending the 10th annual Shannon McCabe’s Vampire Ball, which somehow we’ve managed to miss until now. A Death in Bloom is playing two sets of music tonight, and Ian’s thrilled to be performing with them. He’s debuting a Cure cover, which he’s never done before. He’s all aflutter. I’m so fucking proud of him. He’s pursuing his music with dedication and determination, and it’s paying off!

So, soon I’ll put on my vampire clothes and get dolled up. It will be a fun night I’m sure.

Lucas, my lovely young man, went to a Halloween dance last night, dressed very smartly. “I don’t like costumes as much as you guys do,” he said, when I asked him if he needed a costume. (I remember when he did love costumes and cosplay as much as I do. We have to give him room to change.) Tonight he’s with friends, attending a haunted house and staying over.

My little guy got to attend a Halloween party last night. “Mom, I don’t want to wear the whole werewolf costume, just the mask.” He, too, used to be all about dressing up, and I have the evidence here and here and here.

That’s OK, though. They get to go through this phase, just like all the others. Asher’s a sixth grader now, and that self-consciousness is taking hold. It’s right on time, really.

I hope everyone has some deliciously spooky fun tonight or next week for Halloween. It’s one of my fav holidays.

Halloween, 2016

This year, my younger son’s sixth-grade class got to build and embody the dragon at our school’s Michaelmas festival, which was held on September 28. This is a huge project and several very talented parents in our class took on this work. I’m so very grateful for their time and talents in this endeavor. Huge thank yous to Criss, Nar, David, Mike, and Brian, who sculpted the head; David, who fashioned the wings; to Sandra, who sewed the tail; to Sandra, Tamu, and others who helped the kids glitter the dragon skin; to Melissa and Brian, who helped the children make the hats/dragon spines; I know Neva was there throughout and I’m sure that I’m forgetting to credit others who helped.

This year, the class decided that their dragon would be white. No one could remember a time when the dragon was white. They wanted it to be sparkly and shimmering, so we spent a day painting with with spray glitter and gold and silver paints.

I think they said we used 40 yards of silk.

At our school, the traditional Michaelmas festival involves the fearsome dragon interrupting the peaceful village, while the villagers are dancing and singing. With a great booming of drums, the dragon enters the village and the villagers go running.

These lovely sixth graders are in the belly of the beast, so to speak, dealing with all the social and emotional and intellectual challenges that come with the age. Friendships change, they adapt to more difficult schoolwork, and the difficulties of individuation and finding themselves, and figuring out what matters to them—what side they stand on in all manner of issues great and small.

A brave knight, George (played by a high school senior), with the help of the Archangel Michael, faces the dragon. Michael imbues George with goodness and strength to tame the dragon.

Second graders and twelfth graders surround the dragon. With their will and their love, they subdue its threat and make it tame.

When I conquer within me fear and wrath,

Michael in heaven casts the dragon forth.

 

Firmly on the Earth I stand.

Michael’s sword within my hand.

When I conquer fear, the dragon’s chains I tightly bind.

Michael’s light is in my mind.

When I thrust against the monster’s might

Michael is at my side.

 

Harken all, the time has come!

When all the world at last the truth shall hear,

Then the lion shall lie down with the lamb.

Our lances shall be turned to reaping hooks,

Swords and guns be cast as plowshares.

Nations shall live in lasting peace.

All men unite as brothers.

My dear Asher is always so funny. He is a beacon of light in my life.

Second graders pose with the dragon that they helped to subdue. (They are studying the saints this year.)

On the one hand, it’s just a school festival—a bunch of kids, organized by grades, dressed in costume and performing in a pageant. On the other hand, it’s a massive effort full of heart, an event that affirms and builds community, pulling in people whose children have long-ago outgrown the school. It’s a place where innocence and courage are embodied, where we can urge and model stepping out to boldly stand up for our values and confront the things that threaten to make us weaker, fearful, and divided. There is no lack of dragons like that to confront in our world today.

Matthew Barton, writing in the introduction to a reader of Steiner writings and talks touching on Michaelmas, says this moment in which we live is awakening us “to the consequences of our own actions in many different spheres, asking us to exercise moral judgement and take responsibility for ourselves and the planet. To reconnect consciously. And increasingly it is becoming clear, in a way similar to the wider vistas that open up as leaves fall, that a battle is raging between these developing forces of sensitivity, awareness and responsibility and those—really there is not other word—demonic self-interest, social divisiveness and materialism, often, let’s not deceive ourselves, combined within each one of us. So the battle is with and within ourselves.”

I’m very fond of this festival. Here is where I wrote about Lucas’s sixth-grade Michaelmas dragon.

https://loveinthesuburbs.com/wordpress/michaelmas-new-dragons

My little love is off with his class to Yosemite for three days. It the first sixth-grade trip and we’ve been on the edge of our seats as to whether he would go. He’s had a cold for the last five days, and didn’t feel up to going to school. Plus, he suffers from a lot of anxiety about being away from home, without his parents, brother, and fluffy dogs—a lot of anxiety.

Last night though, he was feeling a bit better and started to rally. With gentle, steady pressure we suggested that he go on the trip, that it would be great fun and he would learn a lot. The program the class will participate in is a really cool real-world environmental sciences curriculum. They’ve been studying geology in Main Lesson, and this is a hell of a capstone experience!

We carefully packed his belongings, finding nearly everything on the list. Then I made an after-dinner grocery store run for some special lunch/snack items, a new water bottle, lip balm—anything that would excite him about the trip.

This morning he bravely got ready, made an enormous lunch for himself, and marched out the door. I know he is scared. I know he’s worried about the “anxiety train,” which races away with our thoughts and feelings in a whole string of frightening what-ifs. I know that one of the things he worries about it getting sad, lonely, and anxious, and then feeling embarrassed on top of it all. I have so much compassion for him. I was the same kind of kid myself: sensitive, worried, anxious.

Parenting him through this is always tough, but I think we’re getting better at it. The whole time we told him going on the trip was his decision
(given his cold). Honestly, I really wanted him to go on the trip, though, and I’m very happy he decided to.

He was tense and stiff at school, gave me a shy hug and joined his classmates. I’ve briefed the teacher and chaperones, and I know they all have his back. They’ll take care of him and give him extra support if he needs it. It’s wonderful to have a community of people with him who have known him since he was 5. Two mom friends/chaperones sent me photos, and so I’m placing them here, without context.

I love my boy and his brilliant, sensitive, beautiful soul.

Asher, I hope Yosemite is amazing for you. I hope you can relax and enjoy this glorious place on earth, with these great people. I love you and I believe in you. Way to face your dragons, my love. Blessed be.

It’s Friday morning and time to go to work. I have a sick boy at home today. And I’m pretty tired from my workweek plus two school meetings (it should have been three but I could not rally for the middle school sports meeting). I want to go back to bed.

There’s a crispness in the air, and my dogs are going berserk whenever they see or hear the squirrels, of which there are many. It’s peaceful for a moment and then they bark a ruckus, to which crows screech a reply.

I am grateful that I can work at home today. My mind drifts to the weekend; plans are hazy. I long to spend a whole day reading for pleasure. I have iris rhizomes to plant.

I am struggling to stay positive given the daily news. Our government has 12,000 migrant children in detention centers and camps. It used to be that unaccompanied minors coming to the U.S. would be released into the custody of family members living here. Now immigrants are afraid to come forward to claim the children for fear of deportation. The problem is so much bigger than I thought. It’s not just the 416 kids who remain separated from their families, which is the story of the summer that rattles around in my mind and heart every day. I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but I’m incensed by this cruelty.

I sent some money to women democrats running for the House and Senate, and one running for governor of Georgia. This makes me feel a little better.

A new school year started last week, the day after Labor Day. This was the first day of sixth grade. My little love finds transitions very hard. He has been dreading this day, and we’re all trying to support him through it.

Asher is clever, kind, smart, empathetic, sensitive, loving, funny, and brave. He may not seem brave when you see his sad face, but this is evidence of his courage: He suits up and faces his fear and deep discomfort. I have tremendous faith in him and his abilities. I am so very proud of this boy. I love him. I grok him.

The first day went OK, in part because it was a half-day. Over the next three school days he gradually got used to it again. His nervousness manifested in early rising and he was getting ready  and making his lunch long before it was time to go to school. He is cautiously optimistic about his new class teacher, and sad to see his movement teacher go.

I told him that there would be a few days of discomfort, and those feelings are big and real and valid. But that after a few days, that uncomfortable feeling would lessen and soon he would be all right again.

Yesterday was the start of Lucas’s junior year of high school. I am so proud of him. He is a thoughtful, considerate, polite, intelligent, creative, ambitious young man. He is finding his way and moving forward with strength, authenticity, courage, and big dreams. We love him so much.

He’s been really happy at George Washington School of Arts and Sciences these last two years. He is learning so many important skills there, and while it’s not always easy, I see him stepping up to challenges with courage and an admirable steadfastness.

This year Lucas is thrilled to be taking AP Art with one of his favorite teachers. It will not be an easy class; he knows it will take tons of time to develop his portfolio. He also has US History, American Literature, Physics, Integrated Math 3, and a 3D Art elective. He’s hoping for a study hall instead of that extra art class, but we’ll see. It’s a significant load of work this year, I think. He’s stepping boldly into these classes.

Over the summer, he took Spanish 2 online. I’m so very proud that he used some of his free time to get high school credit, and get that course out of the way. (I wouldn’t say it like that if he really enjoyed learning Spanish, but since he did not … ) I think having Spanish this year in addition to those other courses would have been too much. He took it on and did it all in a matter of weeks, saving himself something close to 250 hours during the school year.

Anyway, I just want to say that my young man delights me and fills me with pride. And he wouldn’t want me saying any of this.

I just finished a 2.75-mile walk tonight in the dark. I have been going out to walk at night several times a week for the last 6 weeks or so. I have to admit, every time it’s a bit of a head trip and I spend some time during every nighttime walk wondering if I am being refreshingly brave or really stupid. I take a light and often take a dog, but he hides every time he hears another dog bark and is a black-as-night beta, so he’s not exactly protection. Some neighbors blast their property with blinding bright floodlights, and other neighbors’ homes are completely black. Certain streets are almost totally unlit. Sometimes I feel safer in the dark.

I love the night smells: wet grass, sweet dry oats, ripe figs, oak trees, wildfire smoke. And I like walking my with my light off; it’s a kind of faith. After 19 years, I know these neghborhood streets. But there’s one pothole I trip over every time, even though I know I am right on top of it.

The odds are in my favor; I will probably enjoy many more peaceful nighttime walks, either alone or with my silly little dog. I live in a safe place. Surely there are precautions I can take. But that’s not what I am interested in.

I’m interested in the dialogue that’s happening in my head around the idea of safety, where I’m safe and when, and under what conditions. I find myself feeling safer walking in the dark in places where I’m unlikely to encounter anyone else. Other nights the opposite is true, and I gravitate toward the streets with streetlights. And I wonder why that is, and if I’m safer or wiser now that I am older, or if I’ve just got less time/energy for fear now.

At a college campus famous for partying, I marched in Take Back the Night events in the early ’90s, with hundreds of women at my side. Now it’s just me out there, and I feel up to actually doing it. The night is mine.