A 2021 Update

It’s been a while since I’ve written—and not for a lack of material or motivation or even time. It’s more that I’ve been overwhelmed with story lines and I’m struggling to whittle it all down into one trajectory that flows for the reader. 

Who would want to read the nonsensical chaos that characterizes our house each day? One minute I’m wrestling scissors from Sam and Tess, picking up the bits of hair they’d chopped from their heads; the next I’m prying off the kernels of dog food that had been glued to the coffee table.

But since this blog was originally intended to update friends and family on our happenings after moving 1,500ish miles away, I’ll start there. An enumerated list is always fun to read.

1.    When we last left our hero, me, I’d been in a car accident with Lou. Hit by a driver who had accelerated through a red light, we flipped upside down and spun around 180 degrees, like a helpless, overturned turtle. But Lou and I emerged from that unscathed! Lou didn’t have a single scratch on his little body, and I only had a few minor bruises and scrapes. No PTSD, no emotional scarring, nothing. Miraculous. Seriously. 

2.    Eight days after our accident, Tighe totaled his car on his way home from work. Also not his fault. A new driver, poor girl, had pulled out in front of him without looking, and even at only 30mph, he smashed his car into the minivan she had been driving. Again, no one was hurt, but the girl at fault was extremely shaken up, particularly because the minivan belonged to the family she babysat for. Oops.

“You’re never gonna believe this,” Tighe had said somberly into the phone asking me to pick him up. In the throes of Witching Hour, I turned off the stove, scooted Rocket into his crate, and ushered Nate/Sam/Tess/Lou into the car to drive all of three minutes to the accident scene, just in front of Loose Park. 

I parallel parked on one of the side streets and we watched as Tighe gathered his backpack from the front seat, finished talking to the cops, and then as the tow truck hauled away our trusty Chevy Suburban, which had trucked us all back and forth across the country multiple times with great success. I mean, the interior was probably literally stained with blood, sweat, and tears. And dog slobber. And Cheez-It crumbs. And strawberry-banana smoothies. But otherwise with great success. 

3.    After a series of rental cars and countless phone calls and emails to and from the insurance company—we are likely not their favorite policy holders right now—we got our finances all situated and acquired new cars. I got another Honda Pilot because safety. And Tighe got a good deal on a used GMC Yukon Denali. 

4.    And then because there’s no rest for the weary, a few short weeks later and right before Thanksgiving, Tighe lost his job. No hard feelings there. 

Seriously. If it had been me, I’d still be in my bed wondering why nobody likes me. But Tighe basically clapped his hands together and said, “Great! Now I can do something else!” And so he is. 

He declined the severance package they offered him because he didn’t want to also sign the non-compete agreement. So we have no income at the moment and no health insurance. With four small children. During a global pandemic. No big deal.

5.    Which brings me to my next point: risk-taking. Yes, that’s right. We traveled to Florida for Christmas. And yes, though I didn’t advertise this trip in any way, nor post any pictures on social media, I’ve already been shamed for it, from friends and family and strangers alike.

Feel free to jump on the bandwagon with that. 

Everyone has a different level of risk-tolerance in this pandemic and I take ownership for mine and for our actions. Personally, after two car accidents, I feel riskier driving around town than I do hopping on a plane and sitting on a beach in Florida. 

And as a result of our accidents, I was a feeling a bit carpe-diemish. Like, I hadn’t seen my parents in a year. My dad had only met Lou once. Life’s too short to be hiding in my house. Family relationships are more important to me than that.

So, we masked up and flew to Florida to spend Christmas with my parents and my brothers and two sisters-in-law and my niece. We also got to see a handful of cousins and Tighe’s sister, brother-in-law, their three kids, and her newest baby bump, due to arrive in August. We sat on the beach and hung out in my parent’s pool. And we laughed and we ate and we had fun and we slept well and we watched football and we rolled our eyes as my dad frantically fished out the rocks Lou had thrown in the pool.

And best of all, we arrived home eight days before Nate and Sam returned to school, adequate time to wait and monitor for coronavirus symptoms. And yes, I know all the angles and all the risks: as far as we know, we’re not in the high-risk category, but we have people in our community who are. And to protect them, we’re happy to wear masks (properly) and stay out of public places so we can minimize the spread. 

We all have different reasons behind our actions. I was in a potentially fatal car accident on my way home from Target, so I had the urge to see my mom and dad. 

Let the judging and shaming commence. 

6.    Nate, Sam, and Tess continue in-person schooling, punctuated by a few covid hiccups along the way. Tess and Nate each have had kids in their classes test positive at various points. Nate and Sam have had to be flexible as they’ve had to switch back and forth between all-virtual, full-time in-person, and hybrid half-days, based on the number of cases within the school. 

Nate’s teacher emailed me last Sunday afternoon, just before the Chiefs game started, to tell me that Nate has a D in Reading because he hadn’t turned in several assignments. It turns out he gets distracted mid-upload and the documents never make it into her cyber-gradebook.

At least I think that’s what happened. Nate never had an explanation, but all of the completed assignments were either in his backpack or scattered around the floor of his room, so it was actually a quick fix. Although I’ve yet to see his second quarter report card…

7.    Wally, our nearly 13 year-old Golden Doodle continues to live. More on that in an upcoming blog post.

8.    Kyle moved in with us. If you don’t know Kyle, then you’re missing out. Actually you’ll find out in a subsequent blog post, but know this: he’s been a truly valuable addition to our household.

9.    Baywatch is our new favorite show. I mean, for Tighe and me, it’s an old favorite, something we used to watch in syndication when we were kids. But for Nate, Sam, Tess, and Lou, it’s totally new, and they’re LOVING it. Sure, maybe it’s just the appeal of boobs, but either way, it’s a show that all 7 of us can easily agree on.

In fact, even as I sit and type this, Nate and Sam are at school, but Tess and Lou have wandered away from the lunch table and into the living room. I can hear the Baywatch theme song emanating through the house. I didn’t even know they could work the remote… Unless it was Kyle… 

Actually, let me check… Nope, it was definitely Lou. He’s reclining on a cushion, milk in one hand, remote in the other, gazing at Pamela Anderson from under his sleepy eyelids. Which tells me one thing: I breastfed for too long.

That’s enough for now. Lots more to come, I’m sure, I just need to keep up with the habit of writing it all down. It’s now after school, and I’ve actually been typing the same set of sentences for about 48 minutes, but I keep having to interrupt my flow to say things like, “No more snacks!” “Whose banana peel is this?” “Why don’t you know where your homework is?” “She’s not stupid, she’s just 3!” “Someone please take the plunger from the baby!”