Severe Thunderstorm Watch

Dear Baby Waider + Little Brother Too, 

We've spent a good amount of time on our boat this summer. It has proven to be an excellent way to social distance, it's fun, and it's a heck of a distraction from the terrifying world we're living in. We've been going to Pierre and the Missouri River to fish, swim, and camp quite a bit and the two of you will, hopefully, remember this time fondly. It has been a very hard sell to me. I had a completely different version of my summer which consisted of travel to the PNW, and possibly returning to Yellowstone or the Sand Dunes. COVID scratched those plans and I have been struggling to be at peace with my summer at the river. I don't love bugs, heat, humidity, or a lack of shade. The mountains are where I want to be in the dead of summer. 

That being said, I have to give credit to my siblings for finding their own remote slice of heaven. The Missouri River. Make no mistake, the bugs, humidity, heat, and lack of shade are abundant here, but I am slowly coming to love this remote paradise. We have the luxury of using the Missouri River during the week. It is not a hopping place during the week. Docks are calm and many campsites sit empty. Due to a rogue sore throat and cough we ended up camping by ourselves this past week. We "get" to wait for 8-9 days for COVID test results while presuming the test results are positive. When we entered the river on Monday we were under a "Severe Thunderstorm Watch." I'm a self-proclaimed weather nerd. Basically I love to check the future cast on the Weather Channel radar and pretend I know what I'm talking about. All signs were pointing towards a big one coming. It was already starting to build when we launched so I requested that we continue to have fun on the boat, but to do so close to the dock. Today was not the day to head over to Snake Creek or even go to Okobojo.  We managed to have fun swimming and trying to catch this relentless fish that bit every time we trolled on by. Despite our good time we had this watch in the back of our mind. "Large hail, damaging winds, and heavy rains are possible." We could see it building and we knew it was coming. We just didn't know when.  Also, that word possible. Would there for sure be damaging winds?? Will there for sure be large hail? If that happens, will it be at my direct location??? We didn't know. We could see the storm looming, but we didn't know what exactly it held.

I snapped these pictures before we took our last lap in the cove. We were having so much fun, but eventually this thunderstorm would pause the fun. How severe it would be was unknown, but we knew that we couldn't stay on the lake as it arrived. The moment I snapped this picture I decided that it was the perfect metaphor for my summer.  Ironically as I looked at facebook that afternoon I saw this meme. I feel like it stole my thunder (haha) for this blog, but also reminded me that I'm not the only person feel like I'm living life under a sever thunderstorm watch.

For two decades I've spent much of late July-early August in a frenzied state of vacationing/planning for a new school year. I have always found planning for a new school year to be one of my favorite things to do. Nothing beats filling out a fresh lesson plan book, making name tags, planning bulletin boards, and cutting out laminating. I often enlist Grandma Halter who also enjoys these tasks. I mentally place furniture, scour the internet for ideas, make several trips to Michael's, and use an excessive amount of printer ink in an effort to make my classroom my home away from home. Not only is it MY home, but it is home to 25-28 second-grade students who I share it with. I pride myself on creating an environment that is cozy, fun, and special to everyone who enters. This year I feel like I'm under a sever thunderstorm watch. While I want to go all out and cross the river to Snake Creek I feel like I need to plan cautiously. Stay close to the dock. COVID-19 has done more than ruin my planned vacation. It is also seriously cramping the style of planning for my 21st year of teaching/classroom. I sit down to think about what the 2020-2021 school year holds and it digresses into a series of questions: 

~Do I start with Google Classroom in place?

~I already hate germs. What will this even do to my germaphobic nature? 

~I can't find Clorox Wipes in the stores? Will parents find them? What is a classroom without Clorox Wipes?

~How long will we be in school?

~What if we have to return to remote learning? I hated remote learning. 

~Will students and families be able to get a test?

~What if someone coughs in the classroom? Is that COVID?

~My daughter had a sore throat and got a COVID test and we had to wait 8-9 days for the results. What if that happens at school? Will the student be out that long? How will their parents work? 

~How will I work?

~Will anyone want to sub for us? 

~What if I have to go back to homeschool/home teach? Will I go insane?

~Hybrid... Who called it a hybrid model and why? Why isn't it called an alternate schedule or something else. Hybrid reminds me of biology class circa 1998. 

~Seriously though how do we even make school work on a hybrid model? How do I make it work? Where will my kids go on off days?

~Will my room be the same homey place it has always been?

~Can the desks go into groups? 

~Probably shouldn't.

~Will the kids wear masks? 

~Should I? 

~Maybe I'll wear a mask AND a face shield?

~I've purchased 10 large bottles of sanitizer from Sam's Club, is that enough? 

~I've purchased 12 reusable masks. Is that enough? 

~How will I teach small groups? 

~Do I teach small groups? 

~How many students will I have? 

~Are all of them going to show up or will some opt for online? 

~What if they try to hug me? 

~What about when I see students from last year. I definitely am going to cry when I see them. ~They will go in for the hug. 

~Do I stop the hugs?

~How do I teach without high-fiving? I've never been good at not high-fiving. 

~Can we still eat in the teacher's lounge?

~How will we do parent-teacher-conferences?

~What about hot lunch. Will they be serving chicken strips and mashed potatoes still?

~Can we do team planning? 

~Do we still get to laugh in the halls before school? 

~What if a coworker gets sick? Then what?

~What if it's worse than sick? 

~Can I wear scrubs? I love the idea of scrubs. *Searches scrubs on amazon. Teacher scrubs.  Pretty cute options.* *Sends text to Mr. Dschaak: Can we please wear scrubs to school?*

What about my own kids? Is school safe for them? 

This is where I stall out. I feel like I'm living my life as two people. I'm a mom and a veteran teacher. I've been teaching 21 years. As a teacher I know I CAN do this. We do hard things all the time. I'm going to buy what I feel I need to make it as safe of a classroom as I can. Do I want in-person school? More than anything. Is it safe? We know it's not. Am I scared? Not for ME personally to get sick. What I am scared of is ANYONE else getting it. I've heard plenty of stories about people not even knowing they had COVID. I've heard of people being terribly ill. I've also, obviously, heard of people dying. Even teachers and students. I do not say this lightly, but I LOVE PVE. You both will know this and probably feel the same. It would be completely devastating to lose any coworkers let alone more than one... I tell my students I love them. I'm sure some people think that is excessive or exaggerated, but I truly believe it. I love them. One year I had a student who was seriously ill and hospitalized. It was completely terrifying. To think of that happening on a grander scale is more than I can even comprehend. I can't even think beyond a seriously ill student. The families of my students become like family to me. I care about them as well. I get concerned for their well-being and health. I keep seeing that kids need to get back to school for their mental and social health. Agreed. I need the same as a teacher. But what does it do to anyone's mental health if we, God forbid, lose a staff member or student to this vicious virus?

As a mom I lose sleep over sending both of you to school. "This disease does not impact children like it does adults." Is a constant statement given to those of us hesitant about sending our kids back to school. "But they haven't been exposed in large numbers yet, " is my mental response. WE. DON'T. KNOW. how this impacts them. I spent 9 (almost 10 months for little brother) growing your bodies. The fact that they come out as complete and perfect as they do is a miracle in itself. Along with producing these complete and perfect humans comes an undying urge to protect these humans. I would say a Mama Bear instinct. I did not grow two humans to let them be guinea pigs for the South Dakota Department of Health/ Department of Education. You haven't been in public since March 12th. The last memory I have is when Baby Waider and I went to Target to buy an outfit for the Spring Concert (that didn't happen) and eat at Five Guys to celebrate Kitt's Birthday. I think that was March 8th. That was over 4 months ago. We haven't been to church, restaurants, any store, or playgrounds. If you've been somewhere it's been outside and only around family quarantining like we have.This of course excludes the two trips to Black Hills Peds to mend a broken arm and to take a COVID test.  Many people are not as strict as we are. Which is their choice, but for these humans I created I have some strict rules. We are not getting some virus that we don't know a lot about. Sorry. 

If you're looking for what we chose to do with you this fall you won't find it in this post... I did sign you up for the online option, but with dad and I both returning to school we actually have no idea what  Do we send you to remotely learn with Grandma and Grandpa Halter? Do we chance sending you to school? Will we end up online anyway. Is the transition to remote tougher on you than just starting all online? UGH. Mr. Dschaak, hopefully he doesn't mind me sharing this conversation, made a good point to me. He asked me if I think I can keep my students safe. I responded that I would do my best. He then asked if I trusted my own children's teacher to do everything in their power to keep my children safe. I have to say that I completely trust them. 

So we live under a severe thunderstorm watch... It's coming. We don't know how bad it is. It's hard to live in full summer mode because what does the future hold? Will we get  devastating hail? If we don't will someone else? Could it produce a tornado? Damaging winds? We just don't know. It could just be heavy rains or even miss us completely.  I wasn't about to stay on the lake to weather the storm. We got off of the lake and the storm hit 15 minutes later. It was so bad that the sirens at the campsite went off and this guy came on the loudspeaker. I didn't even know the campground had a loud speaker. It was a rough one. We stayed in our camper and were safe.  I really wish that staying in our home until we have a vaccine were an option. After all, once a watch becomes a warning you are told to seek shelter.  

How will we know when the watch becomes a warning? There are all kinds of stats out there about the return to school. Less than 1% will die. Okay, but then some will die?  We're accepting the risk that our colleagues, students, and ourselves could die. There is a storm coming. Maybe that storm won't hit us. Maybe it'll be mild symptoms or even asymptomatic. (thunderstorm equivalent to light rain or hitting the edge of the storm) Could be we just get seriously ill, no hospital. (equivalent to some big hail that doesn't break out any windows) What if it is a full on tornado, damaging winds, and big hail that hits our school? What does that mean? I don't even want to type it. Ventilators, 75 New York staff members died of COVID before they shut schools down. That is what haunts me. 

I've spent two decades planning. I'm a planner. My job requires intense planning. Today I sit in front of a blank lesson plan book. All I know is a start date. I have no idea what else to plan for. I wouldn't say I'm paralyzed with fear. It's not fear. It's the "what if's" that have me stuck. 

Love, 

Mom

Adding to the Fleet

Dear Baby Waider + Little Brother Too, 

I was a little shocked to see that the last PUBLISHED blog was from May 11th. So much has happened since then and I actually have written several other blogs, but didn't publish them for various reasons. Some were pretty polarizing, some talk about BIG topics, and some I just wasn't so sure about sharing. You will likely have access to my drafts someday so you will see even the unpublished stories. 

This summer we purchased a boat. Mom and dad used to boat all the time. We had a tiny fishing boat with a 1962 Sea King engine. At max it probably went 10 mph. It was a blast, but not a great family boat. You both love going on it to fish on smaller lakes. Dad bought a "project" boat without a blessing from me. It just sort of appeared in the road in front of our house one day before either of you were born. For years your parents tirelessly argued talked about selling the old Crestliner boat- 1980-something with an old Mariner motor that was not reliable. That boat was never really "fun." There was always this looming chance that it would just stop running in the middle of the lake. That being said, dad loved that boat. Last year a devastated dad parted with this boat and immediately began his search for an updated Crestliner boat. He has LOTS of reasons for a Crestliner and you will likely already know all of those reasons. He finally located one in Montana and we bought it. Immediately the boat has become a source of countless memories. We swim from it, fish, tube, complain, and laugh all together. It has been a fantastic way to social distance and make memories together. 

The learning curve for owning a 20 foot boat is steeper than I might have thought. It seems pretty straightforward to put a boat in water and drive it around, but that is absolutely not the case. Unbeknownst to me dad planned for me to be the one who would back the boat into the water while he drove it into the water which meant that I was also the one who would drive the truck and trailer to be parked with other large trucks and trailers. We were just finishing up our first cruise with the boat at Pactola. We were drifting to the dock where we watched this gal driving a huge boat around. She watched for her trailer to be brought down to the lake and drove the boat onto the trailer like a boss. I secretly wished that I could be so efficient, but also had no clue where to even begin with driving a boat. Plus you have waves, wind, the dock is always changing, lots of factors. So when your dad looked at me and said, "Do you want to learn to drive the boat or back the trailer?" It wasn't a surprise when I said neither. With our old boat he did it all while I caught rays and watched.  I do not like backing anything in. Our manual diesel truck is about 100 feet long. It makes me dizzy looking over my shoulder so I refrain from backing in anytime I can. I am the type of person who loves a pull through parking spot so I can just drive out when I leave. Somehow dad had it in his head that this is something I could learn to do. He had much more faith than I did. That's for sure. 

The need to be speedy on the dock outweighed my serious resistance to learn how to back the trailer, that and a faulty e-brake (that's a complete other story). Dad ever so patiently guided me in the first few times, but I'll be honest, I completely relied on watching him. I could not get that boat to the water for the life of me. I don't understand why someone hasn't invented a boat trailer that just stays straight. I could get it to start straight, but no matter what I tried it always sort of veered to one side or the other. Again, dad, ever so patiently, would guide me into the water and I would drive off and choose a place to park 1/2 mile away so I had plenty of space to park straight and have an easy exit when I had to back back into the lake with the empty trailer. 

Little Bend

When I think of pivotal moments in my life Little Bend will hilariously be one of them. I say hilariously because in the general scheme of life backing in a trailer is not something that changes your life. However, believing in yourself, and committing at age 42 to learn something new most definitely is. We arrived at Little Bend landing with 2 other boats, uncle Kelly's pontoon, and Aunt Katie's fishing boat. Uncle Kelly and Uncle Rob both got their boats right into the lake and were off. I was struggling. It was a really long steep landing and despite trying, dad and I were having a hard time getting into the lake. About the time I couldn't get the boat into the water another guy came up and he STRUGGLED to get his boat into the water too. Together we commiserated about how hard it is to back in a boat at the docks. I let him go ahead of me. I sent the other boats on confident that we could catch up. I finally got the boat into the water again just by watching dad. He would point the way that I had to turn the wheel and I would feebly respond and then he would point the other way. It made no sense, but we got into the water and had a great time. We never did catch up with anyone, but we found some fun despite that. 

We returned to the dock and that's when the trouble began. A breeze had come up and we were trying to get to the dock to tie onto it. Dad kept saying, "grab, don't pull! You're causing the back of the boat to whip around!" I didn't know what that meant a proceeded to do it a bunch of times. Finally, when he got close to the dock I jumped out with the key and vowed to back the boat in without him at the dock...I couldn't do it. I was already crying because when I don't understand something and get mad I cry as you both now know. Sometime within that dad got the boat tied to the dock and left the two of you to come and see how I was doing. I don't remember what I said, but it was something to the effect of, "Get away from me. I'm trying to calm down." Just when I didn't think I could get anymore frustrated I looked back and my "friend" from earlier in the day was pulling into the docks. He got out and I decided it would be a good opportunity to get out of the way and let him try.  I drove around the parking lot and he went in to get his boat. I couldn't see him, but I heard a lot of yelling and then the truck sort of pulled into view. Dad came to get me and told me that the truck/trailer had a problem and that I could go ahead and pull down now. I have no idea how, but I made it into the water on the 100th try and dad loaded the boat. I've never been so grateful to be off the water. Once in the truck dad explained to all of us that the kid had jack-knifed and pushed the trailer. You kids saw more than I did and recall that the tire of the trailer almost touched the tire of the truck! It was at that moment that I vowed to learn how to back the trailer in exclusively. I would no longer rely on dad to guide me in. I had to know how to do this with speed, precision, and accuracy. I went to youtube university and started looking up a bunch of videos on how to back a boat in. I stayed up late into the night studying all of the different tricks and tips. I discovered that backing in a trailer is difficult to lots of people and not just me. 

Landing Friendships

I love to chat up strangers so it is not a surprise that I make friends at nearly every landing. The first time I parked the trailer and the truck this guy was watching me struggle. I sort of expected him to come over an help me. He didn't. He gave me my first piece of advice I cling to, "You just have to keep trying and find your own way with it! If I help you you'll never learn." The next piece of advice was when we were trying to quickly exit the lake with an impending thunderstorm. Dad decided I needed to drive the boat onto the trailer because the dock was super busy! He knew that I probably wouldn't get the center and wider spot and this wasn't the time to try for a narrow side spot. I had driven the boat one time before. I had asked to learn how to drive in case of an emergency. I didn't expect to learn and use the skill this fast, but here I was. I dropped dad at the dock and backed out to float among 15 other boats waiting for their trailer to drop in the water. When it was my turn, I looked at the guy next to me and said, "This is a baptism by fire, I've never done this!" He looked back at me and gave me my second piece of advice, "You've watched him do this a million times. Do what you've seen him do. You've got this." So I watched as dad sank the trailer, pointed the bow into the wind hit the gas, let off of the gas and drifted on the trailer like a pro. I trimmed the engine, I think that's what it is, and we were safe on the trailer. The third guy watched me take on stab at it and miss so I decided to drive around the parking lot and try again because I didn't love my placement. He yelled into my window, "Hey! Do you need me to back it in for ya?!" About the time he asked his eyes saw the stick shift. His eyes super wide he gave me my third piece of landing advice, "I can't back that down! I can't drive a stick very well. People won't be able to help you. You have to know how to do that on your own." I imagine that's a fact. Not trying to brag, but driving the truck is not easy and I've done pretty well. (Okay-I do dump the clutch, give it too much gas, lose traction, and smoke the three of you out sometimes.) I've met lots of other, mostly nice people, on the launch. There is a sort of unspoken camaraderie among those of us who back the trailer. Some will ask, " Do you want me to guide you or leave you alone?" Some will say, "You make that look too easy."  Some will simply smile at you and then go about their day. I haven't met any real jerks on the docks, but I am confident that is coming. 

Success

                            Perfect parking job! I even had to back into that spot!

 

I still need dad's help backing the trailer every once in awhile. We went to a sort of tricky launch the other day and he showed me a few tips before I tried it on my own, which was helpful, but for the most part I am pretty capable of navigating the launch on my own. It feels good to do hard things and it also has reminded me of how hard it is to learn a new skill. I watch people struggle to learn something new for a living, but don't want to struggle on my own to learn something new. This was a good opportunity for me to remember that sometimes learning a new skill is frustrating, just because it is easy for me doesn't mean it's easy for everyone, practice and patience is crucial, but it is also necessary to find your own way when learning something new. All of those are important elements to supporting new learners. 

I guess my point in posting this is you're never too old to learn something new. You both have supported me on this journey and watched my struggle and have helped to celebrate my success. You spent several hours baking in the sun as I zig-zagged you into the water. You are probably the most grateful that I've significantly reduced that time! 

The memories of summer of 2020 will definitely be a combination of social distancing on the Missouri River, the four of us boating, fishing camping, and having a ball. 

Love, 

Mom

Letter to my 2008 Self

Dear Baby Waider + Little Brother Too, 

It is Mother's Day 2020. I'm feeling unsettled today. Maybe it's because it is my 756th day of quarantine. Writing is and always has been a wonderful way for me to process and sort out the millions of ideas, thoughts, complaints, and problems floating around in my head. It's like if I put it in writing I don't have to think about it anymore. Lately, I've been thinking a lot about my Grandpa Halter. I wonder what in the WORLD he would think about these crazy times we're living in. He would have been too young to remember the Spanish Flu of 1918. Yesterday, I was doing lots of digging in the backyard helping your dad with a project, and I had LOTS of time to reflect and think about what I would tell my grandpa and it dawned on me. I would have a lot to tell myself a YEAR ago that I would not believe. As I  thought even more I realized that the me in 2008 would not even remotely be able to comprehend this crazy. 2008 was pivotal for me. I welcomed my first nephew. I turned 30. Barack Obama was elected the 44th president of the United States. So I decided today to write a letter to my 29 year old self. Blow her mind about what awaits her a mere 12 years later. This idea was not entirely my own and was inspired by several memes and other random social media posts. 

5/10/20

Dear Me from 2008, 

Hello! I'm sure you're pretty freaked out to be receiving this letter. I mean, maybe not freaked out. Once you actually think about it it will be pretty fitting since you've watched Back to the Future approximately 1,000 times in your life you may not even be that surprised. If you are freaked out, I get it. You love/hate surprises and usually if confronted by someone you assume you are in trouble. While you like to start trouble you don't love to be IN trouble. That remains true 12 years from now. I am here to warn you about the year 2020. 

I know you are just 8 days away from being 30 years old. I know you feel old and tired. Let me tell you you don't even begin to know what those two words mean. In just a couple of years you will bear and deliver two of the best kids you've ever met just 23 months apart from each other. Yes, you will have TWO children in diapers. TWO children in daycare. TWO children under the age of TWO. You will make it. You will love it and ultimately be eternally grateful that these two humans exist. But you will be very tired. You will lose sleep. Lots and lots and lots of sleep. You will teach through all of it. Again, you will make it. Your husband, mom, dad, and sister will be invaluable to you during this time. You make it. You are a better person for it. In addition to two of your own children you will also have FOUR amazing nephews and ONE amazing niece. They will endlessly entertain you and be the best of friends for your own children. 

Also, I know you're wondering this more than anything. Mia lives to be 14!!! You will lose her in the best possible way February 21, 2019. She dies at home, the same way she lived her life, kindly, peacefully, and with you and Adam. Your heart is brutally broken, but you don't decide when she goes, she does. You will walk her the day before she dies. It's a slow 1 mile walk, but you will vividly remember that walk for months to come. 

Ultimately I remember the #1 thing on your mind probably this exact day in 2008. It is the election. Currently, Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama are battling it out in the primaries. You recently constructed a snow sculpture that said, "OBAMA" in all caps in your front yard. It was massive. You took a picture of it. Just FYI, that picture will be seen AND signed by Barack Obama himself when you see him speak, from the FRONT row at the Central States Fair Event Center. I shit you not. You will cry because he's so nice. You will also hug him.(See I am YOU in the future. Who else would know this ridiculous story AND know how ridiculously happy it would make you.)  You were sold on him before this event, but now he is and forever will be the icon of your time. The leader of the country through your 30s. Hope, inspiration, and fruition of the American Dream.  See, where you sit right now you are under what you THINK is the worst president you will ever see. George W. Bush is what you believe to be the epitome of entitled. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, a corrupt vice president in Dick Chaney, and advised by Donald Rumsfeld. You think we will BARELY make it to the election where we need to vote this mess out of office. You are correct. The Bush years were a crazy times. You saw 9/11, multiple terrorist threats and attacks, and pointless wars where friends and relatives served.  Your twenties have been mired by poor policies and government corruptness. You are politically fatigued. What if I tell you that you don't even begin to know politically fatigued?

On June 3, 2008 you will go door to door for Barack Obama in South Dakota. You will not want to go because it is hot and scary to campaign for a Democrat in Meade County. You will go and you will drive a cool old lady to the polls in Piedmont. When you get home (Adam is out of town.) Super will have killed a bunny and left it on the porch. (I should mention that Super is STILL alive. She will require surgeries that you actually pay for, but she LIVES.) You will be annoyed and have to dispose of the bunny, but it's okay. It gets better. Later that night, Barack Obama will announce that he IS the presumptive candidate for president from the Democratic Party. I honestly can't remember if he wins South Dakota or not, but it doesn't ever matter. HE WINS THE NOMINATION. He hosts the most inspiring convention we will see in our lifetime and goes on to win the presidency in 2008. Your efforts make you feel triumphant. Those calls to voters in Ohio and Pennsylvania were not all for nothing. For eight years you religiously follow his every move. You continue, even with small children, to maintain a connection to politics. You watch his children grow and our country flourish. Okay, maybe not flourish, but it's my picture so I can paint it. 

2016. You wake up one day to realize that the Barack Obama presidency is not immortal. Your choice of candidate for the Democratic Party is one who you vehemently wanted to defeat 8 years ago. The thought of strongly backing her is nauseating even though you really do like and respect her. You donate $0 to her campaign. A stark contrast to the hundreds you donated to the Obama-Biden ticket. November 2016. I don't even know how to break this to you. The star of the show you love, "The Apprentice," is the nominee of the Republican Party. Initially you might think, "Oh, he's entertaining...That's interesting. Bet he isn't as bad as GW." Okay-you're dead wrong. It's totally gross and terrifying. He's awful, intimidating, a bully pretending to be Christian. It's sad how he amassed followers by being racist, rude, condescending, making fun of people with disabilities, and degrading women. In October of 2016 you are cool, calm, and collected. There is no way that Clinton can lose to this guy. You don't love her, but anyone of sound mind would KNOW that she's the obvious choice. It is your mom talking to your cousin, Brook. She will say the craziest thing you ever heard. She will say, "He's going to win. Clinton does not have the votes. Too many people don't like her." Your mom is right. She does not win. Too many people don't like her. Listen to her. Her warning could help you later process one of the most devastating presidential elections in HISTORY. The Republicans bust out the WORST October surprise. "FBI Dir just informed me, 'The FBI has learned of the existence of emails that appear to be pertinent to the investigation.' Case reopened." Initially, I dismissed this as not a problem. After all, no one would really elect a reality star as their next president...I blogged about how excited I was to take my daughter to vote with me for our FIRST WOMAN PRESIDENT. This was about as excited as I got about Hillary Clinton. I really think my apathetic opinion of her was less about policy and more about her not being Barack Obama. 

My sadness for Obama leaving office was > my desire to get Hillary Clinton elected. 

If people are being honest I think a lot of people felt the same way. After returning home from voting for Hillary Clinton we cooked dinner and settled in for a fun election night celebration. I blogged candidly about this after this happened. I believe I have and will always have PTSD from this election night. What started out as friendly texting between your Grandma Halter, Cousin Brook, friend Alicia, and Grandpa Marker quickly turned from excitement into shock, disbelief, and devastation. The man who had a 15% chance of winning the presidency 12 hours previously was now the presumptive winner of election night. You will sob and go to bed at 11 PM and wake up to an uncertain future. You will endure a dismal drive to school where you listen to Fire and Rain on repeat the entire way. Pumping yourself up to encounter a group of students who are ecstatic about the presidential election. At that moment you check out of politics for the next three years. Casually checking the news when you think you can handle it. Attend a few protests and rallies. You break up with Chuck Todd and Rachel Maddow. It's just too painful. People who share your views are now called "snowflakes" and "libtards." 

I told myself when I started this letter I wouldn't spin out of control warning you about of 2016, but when my mind goes back to that day I just can't help it. I really was so worried about our future. It was scary to have someone taking the lead so untested paired with me having two tiny children with their entire future in front of them. 

2020. We make it 3.25 years with our current president. The end is in sight. It looks like a promising crop of candidates for the Democratic ticket. You won't be thrilled with any. After all, Barack Obama isn't on the ticket.  One day in March you will go to school. There has been a lot of talk about this deadly virus people in bigger cities have experienced. A few South Dakotans have it, too, but they traveled out of state or country so you're not too worried. Obviously, worrying about a global pandemic is above your pay grade. You plan to teach, wash your hands, and try to find some toilet paper. On March 13 it seems a bit more serious. The Spring Concert at school is cancelled. Seemed like a good idea. There have been rumblings of canceling school. Probably wouldn't be too long if we did. At 9:00 your principal will call your sister's phone. He will tell you all to prepare work for the following week because the governor is going to cancel school. What you don't know is that this means cancelling school. For the whole year. March 13, 2020 is the last day you will spend with your students. You are going to scramble to make copies, put together packets, and provide for ONE WEEK of learning. Do not do this. You can take from 10:00-11:20 to prepare for distance learning. Write the parents a quick note. After lunch, do not put in a movie to entertain the students while you prepare detailed plans for a week of distance learning. Take the time to show the students you love them. This is your 20th class! Help them carefully pack up their belongings and send them home with lots of materials at their level that they can learn with.  Make sure the kids you know who don't have enough at home take a little extra. Not doing these things will haunt you every. single. day of quarantine. You will picture desks full of materials they could be using at home just sitting there idle. You will see your classroom library busting with books just sitting there that the kids love and cherish. That afternoon let them to choose their favorite and take it home with them over the break. Hug them. There is a looming pandemic, but give them the hugest hug. You won't regret that and you end up sick anyway. Read them a story and tell them you believe in them. You can later write a letter, but won't ever know if they all got the letter. You won't believe me now because I still don't believe it today, but the last day of face to face teaching of your 20th year will be March 13, 2020. 

Distance learning is strange. You have mostly parent contact and see the students maybe one hour per week. You are teaching your own children who are skeptical about your ability to teach and are reluctant to learn differently than their teachers teach. This is not what anyone signed up for, but there are perks. You will get to teach your own kids and spend abundant amount of times with them. As a family you will have some really fun and special times together. You will make the best of it.

The pandemic time in 2020 is a relative disaster. Think of the time in Back to the Future II when Biff is in charge of Hill Valley. That's the best comparison I can make for you at this time.  I tell you this as we are only 8 weeks in. I can't imagine what I will have to say about it 8 months in because I do believe we are in for a long haul. You won't see your extended family, except for outside the house or on a Zoom Meeting. Yes, you heard me right. This is a dangerous disease that makes it so you have to maintain social distance (6 feet away) and should not gather in groups of more than 10 people. You will do parades to celebrate birthdays. You will have birthday parties from afar and watch loved ones blow out the candles on their cake from a different table than yours in a completely different house. It's wild, awful, and emotionally draining. You will have Zoom baking lessons with your mom that are actually a blast. Your children will miss their grandparents and cousins more than you could ever imagine. You will miss everything about normal life. 

Initially, Americans adopt a loving attitude towards quarantine. "We're all in this together!" "We stay at home to flatten the curve." We love doctors and nurse and they are revered as heroes! The government passes a stimulus to help people who are unemployed due to this confusing and trying time.  You STILL don't have yours, but thankfully are still getting paid. "Safe at home" is a quote people live by. The internet is full of people making the best of this situation. What starts as valiant cry of staying home to save lives quickly turns ugly and political. 

The most exhausting part of all of this is that you will have people around you who are believe this is a "liberal hoax." Fake. Conspiracy. You will watch as a president and governor completely defy science and refuse to issue stay at home orders. There is no contact tracing and limited testing. We waste 8 weeks with meager regulations that are inconsistent and non-binding.  Rapid City has a city ordinance that closes non-essential businesses, but they reverse the ordinance too quickly in my opinion. The reason for not issuing stay at home orders or keeping these orders in place is that some people want the economy to return to normal. Go back to our normal lives.You are going to waste a lot of time thinking about this. It is a waste because it doesn't make any sense. The people who are more worried about the economy than human lives are fundamentally different than you. You will hear people who cry, "There are worst things than death." This implication is that a bad economy is worse than death. Seems like a strange rationalization, but it gets stranger. People DEMAND that things open up. Things like hair salons, nail salons, bars, casinos, restaurants, and bowling alleys. You're probably thinking, after 8 weeks you would have some roots, but thankfully just a year ago YOU WENT GREY AND YOU LIKE IT! Anyway, while it seems like the government should have found a way to keep people at home and pay them to do so they decided to encourage opening back up. You will be able to stay home and teach which will lead to an overwhelming feeling of guilt that you have the choice to stay home and stay safe. Countless others will be forced to choose between staying home and losing unemployment benefits or working through the pandemic in an anemic service industry job. You will see people toting guns to protest states closing down to save lives. You will see selfishness in proportions you never thought imaginable. You will be called "afraid to live" because you keep your family home to slow the spread of the disease. You will feel alienated because you will watch others return to what they deem a "normal" life while tens of thousands of Americans die.  You will rationalize that you are not crazy to take this virus seriously when you come to terms with the statistics. 

As of 5/5/20 the United States had 1.23 million cases of Covid-19 and 71,855 deaths. 71,855 deaths. That is over 70k families missing one of their members or maybe even more than one of their members. Of those deaths there are 71,855 doctors and nurses who were impacted by these deaths. 71,855 failed attempts to save someone's life.  A statistic that makes sense to me is the population of Rapid City. It is 75,443 people. Pretty close right? When I started down this road to make this point I REALLY hoped that South Dakota had a population of 1.23 million. I knew we weren't over 1 million, but I I love numbers so much that I just had to hope.  Sadly, the population of SD is only 884,659. About 345,341 shy of 1.23 million. I want you to imagine that this is the population of SD when the Sturgis Rally is happening.(By the way you only work for TWO MORE STURGIS RALLIES and you don't even miss it!)  Basically bikers are always coming and going so it is plausible that our population is close to that during that time. Also, today's deaths are a little under our population anyway so it works out. So if you can imagine it is an August day in South Dakota. Everyone here in the state is infected with Covid-19 and the entire city of Rapid City has died from it.  TWO MONTHS ago there were just around 100 and some deaths.You will be stunned that as the numbers climb countless people go out to eat, have a drink at the bar, and thank goodness get to go gamble at a casino. 

This level of  selfishness is disturbingly crazy to me. My first thought goes to the people forced to accommodate this selfish demographic. They are so entitled that they demand to be served during a global pandemic. Selfish and entitled are two types of people that are glaringly present during this crisis. They are uninformed, self-righteous, and making a whole lotta noise. No one is totally honest that they just don't care who dies as long as they aren't inconvenienced. I don't know how 2020 ends. I pray it is with ALL of our family members healthy and safe.

A personal glimmer of hope is that this crisis has reignited your involvement in politics. You are an avid news reader and watching. Checking facts and being as involved as possible. Even listening to city council meetings! I will never be complacent again. Doc Brown would be incredibly disappointed in all of the information I've shared and I hope it did not interfere with the space-time continuum. I guess the reason for writing this is to warn you that 2020 is a straight up shit-show. It will test you in every possible way. You will need to be mindful of teaching two small humans how to navigate a situation with compassion, still have empathy when coming from extreme privilege, educate them to combat injustice respectfully while they are surrounded by the most appalling behavior from leaders, and lastly, you will teach them the importance of voting, the government, and how our personal lives can be drastically impacted by selfishness and greed. It's a big job, but you're up for it. In closing enjoy your 30s. They're some of the sweetest years of your life. Also, don't be afraid to throw Clinton a $50 or two here and there. 

Love, 

Your 41 year-old self.

There it is, kids. My letter to myself. There is no way, even with this letter, that I would believe what 2020 would bring. I wouldn't have believed it three months ago. Ultimately I know you won't forget it. 

Love, 

Mom. 

Nostalgic

Dear Baby Waider + Little Brother Too,

If nostalgia were a condition I would definitely be considered afflicted by it. I constantly look back to the past, fondly. I am not really one who resides in the past, though. One of my favorite things to say is, "These are the good old days." 

Lately I've been very nostalgic for different times. School, family get togethers, having little babies, going to stores, feeling "normal." I miss crazy stuff, like driving to work and listening to our books. It's so strange because mornings could feel like a battle. Once I hit the I-90 with both of you dressed, fed, backpacks loaded, water bottles filled, and lunches packed I would feel a great sense of relief and anticipation of the great day we were all about to have. I loved walking up to my classroom with both of you as you greeted and hung out with your cousins. Some days with Little Brother and Cousin Kitt  pretending they were puppies. Finn and Baby Waider caring for and talking to Pete and Ginger. Auntie popping in with Mrs. K. or Miss Selfridge to ask a question or just chat. Once it was time it was always so sweet to watch the four of you march off to the playground or the gym, ready to see your classmates, teachers, and learn! I feel really nostalgic for the hectic mornings that ended once we would hear Mr. Dschaak say the pledge and our days would start, separately-together.  

I also feel nostalgic for the end of the day when you would all four report back, maybe a little wild, asking for snack, or to see Aunt Becky. You would RARELY do homework because you wanted to chat or play school. You loved your time with your cousins. It's so strange not seeing them all the time. I miss the time in the car on the drive home. Sometimes Little Brother would drift off to sleep listening to our book after having an exhausting day of kindergarten. It was always fun to hear a bit about what Baby Waider did that day because I probably did the same thing while I was teaching. I loved hearing your perspective of the things we do. 

During the school day I miss strange things, like reading with a student and having them decode a really difficult word on their own. I miss the five minutes before lunch when I would read a story aloud or listen to kids tell me stories. I miss the time right after math and right before reading when we would celebrate when we learned for math and got ready for the more peaceful reading block time. 

I'm nostalgic for lunch with the other teachers. I would always look forward to sending the students off for their time of eating with friends and recess while the teachers and I would laugh, tell stories, or solve world problems. I miss the moment when the kids would all come in from lunch recess, rosey cheeks, the smell of cold, fresh-air and sweat pouring off of them. All smiles and ready for part two of our day. I even miss hearing about recess issues and solving them with apologies and explanations. I miss dance parties, making up songs, laughing, story telling, excitement, working hard and seeing results. I miss checklists, fun pens, writing time, and read aloud. After spending 37 years (minus summers) in a classroom since starting Kindergarten I am experiencing a special kind of mourning. I miss so much about school. 

Yesterday I headed out on my afternoon walk. Mavis reminds me daily that we have to go on our walk at 3PM. It usually forces me away from my computer.One nice part about the quarantine is that I have lots of time to take long walks. We usually take a 3 mile walk. We live near where I grew up so lots of the landmarks take me back to when I was a kid. I regularly walk by what used to be the old Robbinsdale Pool. Talk about nostalgia! Your uncle Kelly and I spent entire summers riding our bikes to this rectangle pool with friends, daycare kids, and neighbors. I feel like Auntie Katie was a little too young to join us. It was tiny by today's pool standards, and it had a terrifying high dive and a low diving board. There wasn't much of a pool deck. Since it was the 1980's most parents just sent their kids to the pool so there were a few pool chairs, but you didn't really need them anyway. Once we finally got into the pool, for some reason there was always a really long line, we would run into the pool area, throw our towels onto the cement deck, kick off our flip flops and dive into the arctic cold pool. I am not sure  why, but that pool was ridiculously cold. If it was not crowded (it was probably cold, cloudy, or windy) then we could throw a penny and dive for it, play Marco Polo, or stand in line for hours at the two diving boards. I have two memories of the high dive. 1. I remember doing the high dive. It was amazing. You couldn't help but feeling like a real badass jumping off of it into the 10 feet deep pool. The smack of that cold water was verification that you were officially part of a club that gave you a considerable amount of street credit. "Ya. I've done the high dive at Robbinsdale Pool." 2. I remember watching friends, none specifically, that would crawl up the infinitely high ladder of that high dive, walk over to the edge, peer over the edge, turn around, and go back down that legendary ladder. I would always feel partly sad for them and partly happy for myself that I was a badass and had achieved something others could not. The sadness I felt for them was that they would not yet know the exhilaration of feeling the smack of that cold water and excitement of emerging from several feet under water, gasping for air, stomach trying to right itself.  As I walked Mavis yesterday I remembered the busy days at Robbinsdale Pool when all you could do is bob up and down in place because you were literally shoulder to shoulder with other children in the pool. The water eerily warm probably due to the extra kids peeing in it. I actually laughed out loud as I vividly remembered the sign at the entrance of the pool. It said, "Welcome to our OOL. Notice it has no P in it. Please keep it that way." I always thought that was so clever. My walk down memory lane did not seem this long in my mind, but I really did live back at Robbinsdale Pool for quite a spell yesterday. It seemed so vivid that I could almost touch it. I remembered giggling, laying on my stomach, arms pulled under, laying soaking wet on hot concrete, shivering, eyes squinting from the sun, just praying to warm up from the frigid water. Let me tell you, kids, there is cold, and then there is Robbinsdale Pool in June cold. It was real. As I turned the corner to start heading back at South Middle School my mind went to the end of the pool trips. If we were lucky they all ended the same. Grandma Halter would awesomely round up enough cash for us to buy a Hawaiian Shaved Ice from the stand that resided outside the pool. I'm sure in your mind you are saying, "If the pool was so cold, why in the world would you get a shaved ice after swimming in it?" The answer to this is simple. It. Was. Amazing. I would get 1. Pina Colada and Root-beer or 2. Banana and Root-beer or 3. Banana and Pina Colada. It usually depended upon what they had available. Once we had our shaved ice we would begin our trek home. Pushing my banana seat bike, balancing a delicious shaved ice, wearing flip flops, and a damp town draped across one shoulder all while wearing a wet swimsuit. Yesterday, I approached the place where when I was a kid we would turn and go up what I remember as a HUGE hill. 

What I considered to be a huge hill when I was little.

I decided to continue my walk down memory lane and turned to go up that HUGE hill. I figured it would raise my heart rate. I realized that the hill isn't really that huge and also that for some reason we would always walk home in the middle of the street. (Sorry Grandma Halter) Maybe it was because we couldn't steer very well on the sidewalk with our cups of shaved ice and our towels. I don't know. What I do know is that the rule was you had to be finished with the shaved ice by the time you got to the top of the hill so you could ride down the other side and coast the rest of the way home. Once I got to the bottom of high hill I turned down Fairmont to start my journey home. I sort of stopped thinking about the pool at that moment. My thoughts drifted back to school. 

I thought about what springtime at school meant. I have lots of experience to draw from. As I've mentioned this is my 37th year in the school system as either a teacher or a student. April and May at school are exhaustingly magic. Your class is more of a family than a class. You've developed best friends, inside jokes, a familiarity that isn't there in September. Guards have come down, learning has been done, we have a developed closeness that is the good stuff making memories is made of. I thought about how if we would have been at school yesterday we would have most likely ended the day with an Earth Day art project of some sort. I would have likely confirmed our field trip to Bear Country the following week and verified that we had the cold lunch count accurately conveyed to the lunch lady and the bus was confirmed. I probably would have gathered Rally Day slips into a huge pile and stapled them to be sent to the office. I would likely grumble because I have suggestions to improve Rally Day that are always ignored. We would have let recess go five minutes longer because it was such a nice day. We would have battled for playground space with other grade levels because it was just warm enough. The teachers would have relished in the fact that we only had 3 Fridays left until Summer Vacay 2020. The kids would have run around like crazy maniacs because it was Friday. In April. I thought about how much fun the drive home would be after the end of the day. We would have pizza that dad would pick up on his way home from work. We'd argue over what we'd watch in the evening. Mavis would greet us with relief because we were finally home. I'd kick the two of you outside while I decompressed from the day, preheated the oven, and watched the news. While my heart ached for all of the things we missed had we been at school something struck me. Someday, I'll be nostalgic for these quarantine days. 

I will long for the days when we all gather around the table to "do" school. There might be laughing, crying, or fighting. Little Brother definitely will be complaining or pouting because he HAS to write. Baby Waider most certainly wanting to do more math. Both kids determined that they are NOT learning squat from their ding-dong parents. We will strive to be "done" with school in a reasonable time, but might find one or two more things to do before we sign off for the day. These days we might extend recess a bit in our own backyard if it is nice out. I don't hate being on a Zoom meeting with my window wide open listening to the two of you laugh while you swing or whisper as you "make" mud out of spray bottles and dirt. (Yes we knew you were doing that.) It is fun to have big breakfasts that linger longer than usual even on a weekday and indulge in reading an entire chapter book in one sitting. Sometimes we extend device time or spend extra time working on a project with your dad, like rebuilding a bike or making brownies with your mom and grandma via zoom. Afternoon walks don't have a time limit and you can skate outside until dark. We are pretty much continuously together which seems like a gift with both of you at the perfect ages of 6 and 8. You are young enough to be adorable, but old enough to be fun. I'll miss the days of listening to the two of you stay up too late laughing during a sleepover on a "school" night and the indulgent joy of drinking chocolate milkshakes while watching a movie. The simple excitement of scoring 5 quart bucket of ice cream or getting pop tarts in the grocery order. Planning meals together, playing cards, and doing puzzles have become something to look forward to and enjoy. Having Zoom Meetings interrupted by you or other meeting attendees meetings have been a friendly and hopeful reminder that we are all in this together. I think what is most endearing about all of this is how close the four of us have become. We've always been a strong family unit, but the time when it's just been the four of us have been a bit limited. More than once dad and I have commented on how cool it is that the two of you have become so close. You've participated in one another's interests more and more. Baby Waider has been a wonderful teacher to Little Brother in many ways. The thing about a moment is you never really know what will become the memory. I don't know what exactly I'll be nostalgic about during this time. I just know that at some point I will be missing this time. 

So, what in the world does missing school, Robbinsdale Pool, and nostalgic about quarantine mean together? I promise I'm getting to that. Last night I went into your room, Baby Waider and Super Kitty was doing this thing where she walks around you meowing. I asked Super Kitty, "What's wrong, Super?" 

She never answers me when I ask her that, but Baby Waider did. You said,"Super knows I needed her to be with me because I'm sad." 

"Oh no! What's wrong?" 

"I just miss my old life. I miss my grandma. I know I can see her but it isn't the same because I can't hug her." 

We briefly talked about how life will go back to normal and we will see others again. We talked about somethings we could do to connect with people. When I woke up you had written these two poems. They perfectly summed up what we're all feeling. So much to miss. 

It was timely because just yesterday I had reflected on focusing upon all the things we're enjoying during this time and I was able to pass that knowledge onto Baby Waider. I was also so proud of Baby Waider for putting feelings into writing. We also discussed the value of appreciating what we had before it was all lost. The things we miss have little to do with things or necessarily places (Well, except the Dollar Store and school!) but everything to do with the people we miss so much. Maybe the big lesson here is that people are such an important part of our life and experiences. They really are irreplaceable. I think that's why we are all taking this time-out to be in quarantine because we want to protect all of the PEOPLE we love who mean so much to us. If we take this time-out seriously they will all remain with us to develop more memories. 

As I wrapped my walk up yesterday (almost 4 miles walked in Birkenstock sandals) I also wrapped up my thinking. What will our memories be during this time? Did we worry too much? Enjoy too little? Did we live in the now? Were the precautions we took too great? Did we not take enough precautions? Will we regret not getting another kitten? I'm not sure we will ever know. What I do know is that your mom 10 years ago would have NEVER imagined this scenario. It has taught me that you never know what is coming. I think your poem titled, "When?" sums up how were all feeling. We don't know when anything is going to change. What I do know is that we have to consciously live in the now and look for what we will be nostalgic for in the future. You never know. It might be walking up a HUGE hill on a hot day, with a shaved ice, a damp towel, wearing a wet swim suit. Just like we don't always know what's coming we also don't always know which parts we will miss. 

Love you both, 

Mom

Strange Times

Dear Baby Waider + Little Brother Too,

I am sure after reading the previous post about the "Covid-19 Pandemic of 2020" that you've been itching for more information. I probably use the statement that is the title about 20 times per week. We are living in such strange times. When I say strange times it actually seems like a gross understatement. Last week we participated in a "Teacher Parade." Now, a month ago, I didn't know what that was. You most likely won't forget what a Teacher Parade was. Out whole staff got together at the school and drove around the communities of Piedmont to wave to the families from our school. No one could approach us and we could not approach them either. We could wave and honk, we did a lot of both. We jammed out to music and I cried. I was overwhelmed with emotion because in 20 years of teaching I've never had anything like this happen before. If you would have told me my first year of teaching that in the year 2020 the school-year would go to distance learning in the middle of March and would remain distance learning for the rest of the year I would have laughed my head off. Even when we were told that school was closing for the week of 3/16 I did not have one bit of belief that we would be gone for two-weeks let alone over two-months. I was completely shocked when school was called until 5/1 and pretty devastated when school was cancelled for the remainder of the year. In fact we were all pretty upset by the news. 

It has been a real adjustment to accept that I will not finish the end of the year with my students. It has been a bigger adjustment to accept that you are all missing the end of second-grade and kindergarten. No Rally Day, no field trip, and no normal end of the year rituals. Baby Waider, this is likely the only year when you will be in the grade that I teach. It has been so much fun watching you learn and interact with all of the things that I've taught for years. It all makes me very sad. The only comfort I get is that we're all safe at home. It is just surreal to think that we are indefinitely here at home. Just the four of us. 

There have been a lot of bright spots during this time even though countless events have been missed Birthday parties, recitals, rehearsals, programs, baseball season, church, Sunday School, First Communion, and who knows what else. It has been hard. BUT we've been making the best out of our situation. One of the best things we've done was the Teacher Parade. It was so special and fun. You both loved seeing your teachers, and Mrs. K., Baby Waider's teacher even stood up out of her moon roof and yelled at Baby Waider. You lit up when you saw her. Little Brother finally got to see Mrs. Christman at the end of the parade. It was so nice to see familiar faces even if we couldn't talk. 

The next thing we've been doing are lots and lots of Zoom meetings. We've Zoomed our classes, cousins, grandparents, and friends. It really has been the hit of quarantine and most likely one of the things you will look back upon fondly during this time. Grandma Halter even taught us how to bake her infamous chocolate chip cookie bars via Zoom! We also did a Palm Sunday reading/ prayer service and art projects with your cousins. You are both very sad that you can't see your cousins and your grandparents. In fact, Little Brother was giving the prompt in his social studies book to write or draw about a place he'd like to visit. He said he wanted to go to his Grandma's house. I expected the beach, mountains, a store, or even Jump Craze. But, his picture was his Grandma surrounded by all of his cousins. Devastatingly accurate, buddy. In summary I feel that Zoom should win the Nobel Peace Prize when this is all over. 

We've also mastered (using that term loosely) doing school at home. We completed *almost* all of our work last week and it was just four days. To say that working from home, teaching my own kids, while having a second job has been overwhelming has been an understatement. Teaching your own kids is no joke. You basically think I have less knowledge than a kindergartner and have NO IDEA how your teacher does it. Which I don't because they weren't my teacher. I digress. 

I have vowed to try to be more "fun" during this time as well. We have enjoyed walks with Mavis which surprisingly is very enjoyable. The two of you ever-hungry for the academics make me think of math equations for you nearly the ENTIRE 3 miles. Today we did multiplication and addition and then when we'd turn a corner we switched to subtraction and division. It is equal parts amazing and exhausting. Today I was basically glowing with how much mental math you can both do. The way you crank-out reasoning for your answers makes my math teacher heart so proud. Sometimes I have a difficult time challenging you and that is just so exciting. We have been baking more. I even let you bake AND decorate cupcakes with homemade  buttercream frosting!!! Woot! Woot! We did have to celebrate Brook's  21st birthday and Franks 6th birthday via Zoom so we had to have a treat. We also did a parade for Frank's birthday party and it was AMAZING and ADORABLE. Frank is such a fun cousin that it just really made everyone's day. 

Along with parades goes mini road trips or drives. Having a convertible makes any drive a road trip. With this being a fairly mild spring we've been able to take lots of drives with the top down. They may not be the typical "road trips" we've grown accustomed to, but they have been no less enjoyable and the views have been pretty phenomenal. 

I've personally enjoyed having all day long to cuddle, love, and terrorize our cats. I think as strange as it may sound they are starting to adjust? to us being home. Maybe they aren't adjusting. Accepting? Tolerating. That sounds better. The cats are tolerating us at home. Super Kitty MIGHT even be enjoying having her Baby Waider home. 

One of my favorite lines in the movie Christmas Vacation is when Clark asked his dad how he got through all of the family's holidays and his response is, "I had a lotta help from Jack  Daniels." My response to getting through this pandemic might be I had a little help from Mich Ultra. Kidding. Kind-of. My point is that this time is stressful. I want more than anything for you to look back on this time as something you enjoyed. A time where you had your parents with you at all times and got to be outside and we became a closer family. Some days it feels like we come out limping with a kid crying and work incomplete. The pressure of making this a positive experience is real and challenging. Paired with it being difficult to find resources, fairly dangerous to go to the store, and all parks closed it is just really, well, strange.

Also, I know that I'm coming at this from an extreme amount of privilege. My kids are fed, safe, and for the foreseeable future their parents are being paid. I ache for those who are less fortunate and feel badly there isn't more I can do to help them. Yes, I am juggling working from home and teaching my kids, but I am still WORKING. I have a job. My kids have resources they need to learn. I find myself angry because we are still being faced with members of our community who fail to take this seriously. We still have people who don't believe it is even real. Worse yet we have people who believe it was CREATED to hurt our president and economy.  The Western part of South Dakota has had very limited testing even available. 

I jokingly (kind-of)say that I already had Covid-19 and so did both of you. I had some of the symptoms and quite a cough for about ten days. I called Urgent Care on a Sunday because I felt like I was having a hard time breathing. Truthfully, it could have been anxiety, but I also had a temp. When I called Urgent Care they told me I wouldn't be tested even if I came in and had all the symptoms because I hadn't been out of state or country. But...The president said anyone who needed a test would get a test. So much for that... Ultimately, I am so interested to see how history explains this time. I have lots of my own opinions, but it is likely that you already know them. It is probably prudent to also mention that I was fairly certain I had the bird flue, swine flue, and SARS. It seems funny to type that because back then it was unfathomable to think that a pandemic would ever impact the United States, yet here we are. 

My hope from all of this is that we learn something. The other day I was getting ready to teach you and I came upon this picture I printed from the internet on New Year's Day. I wrote #2020 GOALS on it and hung it up on our picture/art line. It had somehow fallen down and I can't help but believe that it was meant to fall down. 

If you read this list NONE of those things that I wanted to do were impacted by being quarantined. I think what I wanted to do on that New Year's Day is slow down a little. Relish in the little things. While I don't feel like I've had a moment to relax or slow down...I have had more hugs, creating, laugher, long walks, books, road trips, sunsets, music, and LOVE. I have a feeling as time goes on we're going to round out that list even more. I remember telling Auntie before this whole thing happened that I was so sad that Baby Waider was almost out of second-grade because it is my FAVORITE age and I don' want it to go too fast. One #silver lining of this is that I am getting to be with the two of you all day every day. Time that we didn't even know we wanted. While it is more stressful than I'd like at times I do want you to know that it will be a time I look back and cherish more than I even realize this minute. I will try to continue to update about this crazy time. 

Love Always, 

Mom