Someone Else Cooked!!

Someone else in this scenario means one of the children. Andrew does his fair share, mostly on weekends, and can at least be counted on for ideas during the week. The children? Not so much. When asked for meal ideas, there is a lot of hemming and hawing, I don't knows, and repeat suggestions -- usually involving pasta. Gluten free pasta is tough to find in the stores these days, and I've never been moved to make my own. The other frequent sugestion is takeout -- who's paying this food bill, anyway?

It has taken some time, and a lot of convincing, and possible a couple maternal tantrums, but there are finally some results in the dinner planning arena. Last week, Caroline showed me a list of potential meal ideas. Imagine my surprise when she said she had even looked up recipes!! The next few days involved some discussion about which one to make, when to do it, and whether we had the supplies. Finally, the selected day arrived . . .

"So, how long do you think this will take? When should I get started?"
"Did you read the recipe?"
"Right. It says 15 minutes total cooking time! That will be easy!"

Hmm . . . the dish was Spanish Rice with Chicken. This timeline seems suspicious, as rice does not cook in 15 minutes . . .

"I think you should look at the recipe again. What does it say about the rice?"
"The rice? Oh! It says leftover or already cooked rice."
Silence.
"Ugh. I have to cook that ahead then, don't I?"
"Yup."
"Shoot. I know, I'll make Dad do it!"
"You can't cook rice?"
"Well . . ."

"What time should we eat?"
"Your dad is working, Tim has a class, Linnea is taking a test at 6:00."
"So, 5:15? 5:30? 5:45?"
"Sure, one of those."
"Mom."

"Is it time to start cooking yet?"
"You could make the rice."
"There's probably enough time, I don't have to do it yet."

"Should I start cooking soon?"
"Did you make the rice?"
"Not yet."
"You could do that."

"Did you make the rice yet? You really need to do that."
"I don't really know how. Dad always makes the rice."
"You know, I can show you how to make rice."
"Oh! Good! Okay, you make the rice."
Honestly.

"Okay. Now, you cook the chicken while I cut up the vegetables."
"I'm helping with this part, too?"
"Yup!"

"I'm doubling the recipe. So, if it says one medium onion, I can just use two."
"Is that a question?"
"No, no, no, I'm using two onions."

"Cutting up onions always makes me cry."
"Cutting onions makes everyone cry."
"Hey, why is Caroline crying?"
"I'm cutting onions. It's so, so sad . . ."

"Hey, this looks good! Doesn't it look good? Do you think it will be good?"
"It looks delicious!"
"Nobody's going to like it."
"I'm sure they will like it."
"No, no, no, no one will eat it."

"Sabine! Why did you take such a small amount?"
"I'm not really that hungry."
"Yes, you are! You just don't like it!"
"I haven't even tried it!"
"She doesn't like it . . ."
"She's probably just not hungry."
"Yeah, right. She hates my cooking."

"Linnea isn't finishing hers."
"Linnea never finishes anything."
"She finishes her Mac & Cheese!"
"You're right. She never finishes anything I cook, either."
"That's fair. But she also probably doesn't like it."

"Oooh! Look, everybody!!"
"Look at what?"
"Tim!! He's having seconds!"
"He probably likes it."
"Do you think so, really?"
"Well, he's having a second full plate . . ."

"There's a lot left over. Nobody liked it."
"Everybody liked it, and leftovers are good. People will eat it tomorrow."
"I guess . . ."

"Phew. That was exhausting."

I'm sure it was. Welcome to my world. And, thanks for cooking, Caroline!

Sound Familiar?

"Is there anything to eat?"

"What's for dinner?"

"Can't she do it?"

"I have a Zoom meeting."

"And, there goes the Internet. Again."

"I'm tired of wearing a mask."

"Do I have to wear a mask if I'm just taking a walk?"

"I like the masks with ties!"

"I like an elastic mask, are they all dirty again?"

"Ugh, I hate when the ties clash with the mask part."

"What? The only clean one is pink? Yuck."

"Is there any dessert?"

"I was going to make brownies. How are we out of cocoa again?"

"Would someone watch a movie with me?"

"Everyone is busy, I guess I'll just do something by myself."

"I'm bored."

"If you're bored, you could . . ."

"I'm not that bored!"

"When is this going to be over?"

"I'd really like to see my friends."

"Do you think we'll go back to school in the fall?"

"Shh!! There is a Zoom meeting going on!"

"I wonder when we will . . ."

"Do you think we will ever . . ."

"I was really looking forward to  . . ."

"How is someone always in the bathroom?"

"Go outside and get some fresh air!"

"I don't feel like going outside."

"It's raining? Now I can't go outside!"

"MOM!!"

"Do we have any snacks?"

"Be quiet! I'm in class!"

"Why did you put a teddy bear in the window?"

"Mom has a Zoom meeting? Really? She has friends?"

"I hate playing games."

"Who finished the puzzle?"

"Do you think they will extend the lockdown?"

"This house is too small!"

"But I did it last time!"

"I'm tired."

Sigh.

And then there is Tim

"Can someone take out the trash?"
Tim: "Sure."

"I need some help bringing in the groceries."
Tim: "I'll help!"

"Anyone feel like playing Yahtzee?"
Tim: "I'll play!"

"How are your classes going?"
Tim: "Just fine, all my work is finished"

"Finals coming up next week?"
Tim: "Yup! I have my paper writing schedule all planned out."

"Can someone run the vacuum?"
Tim: "I will."

"Anyone want to watch a movie with me?"
Tim: "Yup!"

"I'm going for a walk, do you want to come?
Tim: "Of course!"

"I'm having trouble with this calculus problem, can someone help me?"
Tim: "I'll take a look at it with you."

Tim: "Hey, guys, listen to this funny story!"

Tim: "You've got to watch this great video with me."

Tim: "Don't worry about emptying the dishwasher everyday, I don't mind doing it."

Tim: "Can I help you?"

Tim: "I'm going to go play Just Dance, come join me!"

"Mom, why is Tim your favorite?"
"Isn't Tim everyone's favorite?"
"Yeah, you're right."

Caroline is not Complicated

Our Caroline is by nature an introvert. She is still recovering, filling her introvert cup so to speak, from her semester abroad last fall. In the interest of being a good guest and wringing all the opportunity out of her stay in Prague, she socialized, traveled, ate, drank, and was merry for more than three months. She's exhausted, and also very grateful she went abroad last fall and not this spring. Pure luck that it happened that way.

So, here she is at home, prevented from the need to socialize, with her family who loves her and understands her quirks. It is going well for her! I give you, a day in the life of Caroline . . .

9:00 (or 10:00) -- Wake up

10:00 (maybe 11:00) -- Procure her curbside pick-up of her morning cold press. She feels the need to continuing supporting the coffee shop where she has worked for four years, in hopes that they will still be around to give her a few hours of work in the not too distant future. Right now, she is letting those more in need take all the shifts. We, on the other hand, are simply glad her daily cold press is still an option. Caroline without her coffee is less delightful than one would hope.

The rest of the day until dinnertime -- No one really knows . . . we see her, sitting at a computer, wearing headphones, sometimes laughing, sometimes looking annoyed. Lectures? Reading? YouTube videos? Writing papers? It is a mystery. We don't bother her, she doesn't bother us.

6:00 -- Joins the family for dinner. Eats, talks, laughs, is generally good humored.

7:00 -- Some more family time, maybe, if we don't expect her to play a board game.

The rest of the evening -- No one really knows . . . she insists that she is not online, trading secret family recipes for toilet paper, but we aren't so sure . . .

Living with Linnea in a Lockdown

Before I throw Linnea under the bus in this post, please be assured that our whole family knows how lucky we are to have her in our lives. She is kind, funny, generous, and loving. As a preschooler, she was the first of the children in the family to start giving gifts to everyone for Christmas -- surprisingly thoughtful and lovely handmade creations, usually out of notebook paper, tape and one or two colors of crayon. As a teenager and first year college student, she has been the one in her friend group to notice when others are sad or in need. She took stationary and sheets of stamps to college with her to write letters back home to all the people who have supported her over the years. Not so much to share her activities and brag, but because, "who doesn't want to get a real letter in the mail?"

She is also anxious, obsessive, tenacious, and a little bit crazy. We try to combine the funny with the anxious, since it is usually better to laugh than cry, right?

My parents live about 1,100 mile from us, in remote northern Pennsylvania. And by remote, I mean on top of a mountain, accessed by roads that routinely become impassable in the winter. It is about an hour to the nearest airport, which is itself so small that it only has six gates, and the person who prints your boarding pass on one side of TSA is also the person who scans it to board the plane on the other. It is, especially with the frequent stops neccessary when traveling with small children, a strong 18 hour drive for us to get there. And we always drive. During the elementary and middle school years, we broke up the trip over two days, but when the littles could be counted on (usually) to sleep in the car, we drove straight through. I tell you this to set the stage for understanding what it is to live with Linnea in these interesting times.

When Linnea was about four, we headed out of town for one of our trips to visit the grandparents, leaving at around 4:00 in the afternoon to drive through the night and arrive in time for lunch. The children were settled in with their bags of toys, books, and snacks; the family travel rules had been clearly laid out (it should surprise no one that I had very strict rules for traveling in a car when they were young, and that we never traveled with any videos. I'm so mean); the first music CD was in the player. We made one brief stop to drop off books at the library, less than two miles from our house. And then, as we pulled out of the library parking lot, we hear this from the very back of the minivan:

"Are we almost there yet?"

Less than two miles of 1,100. About five minutes out of 18 hours. If there was ever a time that a mother thought about turning the car around, this was the moment. And so it began. Our sweet Linnea asked if we were there yet over and over. And over. And over. When she was particularly gloomy, she would begin to chant, "I'm soooo hungry, I can't do it. I'm soooo hungry, I can't do it. I'm soooo hungry, I can't do it." See? You're already annoyed!

This, then, is lockdown with Linnea . . .

"How much longer do we have to do this?"
"When can I see Cain?" (Cain is the delightful boyfriend of three years.)
"Governor Walz is stupid."
"Governor Walz is not stupid, he is doing an excellent job."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But when will this be over?"
"I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!"
"You know, we are trying to stay healthy for Sabine."
"I KNOW!! But, when can I see Cain?"
"Do you think the stay at home order will get extended?"
"I don't know, it might."
"NOOOOO!!! I can't do this anymore!!"
"What are people doing right now Anyone want to watch a show?"
"Anyone? Dad? Sabine? Want to hang out with me?"
"WHY IS EVERYONE ALWAYS BUSY??"
"They are working, why aren't you?"
"I don't WANT TO!!"
"When is this going to be over?"
"I should bake something. Should I bake something? What should I bake?"
"I don't know what to bake, what do people want?"
"I'll definitely bake something, but probably later."
"Is there any dessert?"
"NOOOO!! I forgot to bake something!!"
"So, this is going to be over soon, right?"

Seriously. I am going to turn this car around.

Let's Talk About Sabine

Today (Sunday, April 19) is Sabine's 18th birthday. You can imagine how this is going. The cake is baked and frosted (thanks, Tim!), there are presents, and her takeout meal of choice will be procured shortly. The highlight of her day was a visit by her two dear friends from school this morning. Proper social distancing occurred in the yard, after the two girls drove over separately -- even though the three house are basically in a straight line with one exactly halfway between. In normal circumstances, the girls would never be so frivolous as to drive two cars! Sabine would like it to be noted that she does not like the term "social distancing," preferring instead to say "personal distancing." I think she feels social distancing is an oxymoron, if you are being social, how are you also being distant?

We say things frequently in our house, like "I know it is tough, but we are all going through this," and "everybody is missing something they wanted to do," or "at least we like each other enough to tolerate being together." But, let's be real. Sabine is the one taking the biggest hit in our house.

Two months ago, Sabine and I were in New York City (yup, the epicenter, across the street from the law firm where the first case worked). She was there for an interview with the Royal College of Surgeons in Ireland. Two weeks later, we were in D.C., for an info session for the University of Edinburgh in Scotland. She has been accepted and paid a deposit for University of Mary Washington in Virginia, as part of their Honors Program. It is a great program, however, with potential options overseas, it was more of a backup plan than a first choice. But, one month ago, the world exploded, and with it, all the the second semester senior dreams and plans of our girl.

Being a senior stinks right now, high school or college. No prom, no final spring break trips, no graduation walks or parties, no jobs to be found, no certainty about the future. To make it worse for Sabine, her acceptances overseas were all based on tests she needs to take in May, either Advanced Placement or International Baccalaureate. IB tests? Cancelled. (She isn't super fussed about not getting to take the tests, but she did really want to get some results -- it's a paradox!) Will American students be welcome abroad? Would we want her to go? So far, each week, Mary Washington moves another piece of orientation online; hardly the exciting introduction we would hope for to get her enthusiastic about her domestic option!

So, the list of negatives far outweighs the positives right now, but it is still her birthday. We're all together, even though we shouldn't be. She has a college to attend in some way in the fall, even if it isn't her first choice. Everyone in our house remains healthy -- a big plus with Sabine's status as one of the most vulnerable. And, there is cake.

Cake always outweighs the negatives, right?

Entertaining Moments While Zoom Learning

Linnea passes Caroline a note: "I really have to pee!"

Caroline writes back: "Do you want me to sit there and cover for you?"

Linnea: "That's what I was thinking . . ."

Caroline gets up from her chair: "You need me to take notes?"

Linnea pulls off her headphones: "Here, pay attention!"

Caroline puts on the headphones and sits down.

Linnea starts to run out of the room.

Mom: "Did you turn off the camera?"

Linnea: "Nah. They'll never notice. We look just alike."

Runs up to the bathroom. Someone is in it. Runs down to the bathroom.

Caroline looks studiously at the computer, takes notes.

Linnea returns, takes the headphones, sits down.

Caroline: "That was terrifying!! She called on someone!! I was like, SH*T!!"

Crisis averted.

I can't believe this finally happened

According to my Facebook history, it wasn't until January 28, 2014, that I purchased any toy guns for my children. It happened then because of our week long break from school for cold temperatures, when I had to get them outside doing something resembling anything. Since I also managed to avoid purchasing cellphones for them until they each turned 15, it should surprise no one that we have never owned a video game system. In fact, the closest thing they ever had was each owning one Webkin, and playing some games on the computer using those.

As of last Friday, we own a Nintendo Switch.

I cannot believe this. And it is all Andrew's fault. In fact, he should be writing this! Even the children, bless their hearts, don't think it was necessary -- although they are enjoying using it.

"Alright, what four colors of controllers should we get?"
"It comes with blue and red."
"Red? Red isn't an assigned color for anyone in this family!"
"Well, that's what it comes with! We can choose the other two."
"Pink and green? Purple and yellow?"
"Yellow? Who would want yellow?
"Grammy?" (Grammy never met a yellow she didn't like)
"Grammy is NOT going to be playing Nintendo with us!"
"Purple!! I want purple!"
"Yeah, but no one wants yellow, pink and green make more sense."
"I hate pink."
"Okay, so pink and green it is."
"Grrr."

"Mom, you have to make a profile."
"Why? I doubt I'm going to be playing this much."
"Because you HAVE to!"
"I really don't think I'm going to be playing this . . ."
"Oh come on, you will totally be playing!"
"Uh huh. Right."

"Time for Just Dance! All four of us at once!"
"People, attach your safety straps!!"
"Move the couch. Is there enough room for all of us?"
"No, but who can we leave out? Make it work, it will be fine."
"Okay, but I don't have enough space!"

In our tiny basement family room, about eight feet square . . .

"How did Sabine get the high score again?"
"Because she keeps whacking me! I would totally win if she would stop whacking me!"

"Linnea, what are you doing? That is NOT the move!"
"How is Linnea just flailing around and still getting a perfect?"

"What? Tim won?? How is that possible? He can't dance!"
"You know, Tim just got an A in his semster of dance in college."
"He did? How?"

"Dad wants to try? Oh, boy . . ."
"Dad!! Use the safety strap!! What are you doing? No, you can't have the controller in your left hand, we set it up for right hand!"
"I'm left-handed."
"Whatever. Too bad."

"You know, I'm a good dancer. I still say I would win if Sabine would stop whacking me."
"Who says you're a good dancer?"
"I am! I've got moves with my hips!"
"Your hips? What hips? You are a literal popsicle stick!"
"Hey!!"

"Um, guys? It's 11:30. You know, that's my bed over there. That I'm not sleeping in."
"It's 11:30? How did that happen? Sorry, Mom."
"Yeah, sorry, Mom! So, one more song?"
"One more? But I still get to pick one more, too! So, two more!!"
"It's late, Mom wants to go to bed!!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, so two more, then."

Guess they like it.

Escape Room -- The Board Game

A couple years ago, we had our first experience at an Escape Room. Each Christmas, we do some activity for the family as a gift -- very trendy! Mostly, it is live theater (Hamilton in Chicago this past year, AMAZING!), but we try to come up with something new and different occasionally. Thus, the Escape Room. I will confess that I was super excited about it, until about three minutes after we got locked into the first room, when I became convinced that we would never solve any of the clues and we'd be the first group ever to enter the room and never be seen again. I can be dramatic.

Being excellent puzzlers, we did manage to solve the mystery within the allotted time, with much hilarity and entertaining examples of previously unknown individual personality traits. Naturally, we had planned to go back and do another one, but busy schedules prevailed and we haven't had another opportunity. Now, here we are, all the free time but all the social distancing. What is a family of puzzlers to do?

Never fear, friends. Escape Room -- the Board Game. I am hardly surprised that we own it (thanks, Uncle Phil), more shocked that we have not yet played it. Apparently, even when the fun doesn't involve leaving the house, it can be tough to come together for an hour, and we would never want to leave anyone out. Caroline also takes some convincing, as anything with the words "board game" in the title is to be avoided at all costs. Nevertheless, our free time must be filled at least some evenings and here we are.

"I am reading the rules, I am the only calm one."
"What's this machine thing? Should I take it apart? It doesn't work!"
"Do NOT take it apart! Does it have a battery?"
"I don't know! How would I know?"
"Open the battery case."
"Yay! I DO get to take it apart!"
"What is this for? What do we do with these?"
"You people are too noisy, I am going outside to read the rules. DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!!"

"I will be in charge of the hint cards."
"We need a hint, when do we get another hint?"
"Not for five more minutes, keep trying."
"Here's the next hint . . . oh, you already figured that out!"
"What? Give us another hint, then!"
"Nope! Five more minutes."
"Do we get a hint?"
"I read it to you five minutes ago. No one was listening."

"It can't be a Z U, there isn't one of those!"
"Look, a Z U!"
"Oh."

"3-5 11-6 7-5 14-8, 12 is next, how do we know the pair? Let's see, let me think."
"Six"
"What? How do you know?"
"I know"
"All you did was look at the list!"
"Yup. It's six."

"You gave us the wrong key!!"
"I did not!! You said the dot on the side!"
"Yeah, the other side!"
"It's symetrical!"
"You're looking at it upside down, you dork!"
"I'm not a dork!"
"Not you, she's a dork!"
"HEY!!"

"It's a parallelogram."
"What are you talking about, there's no parallelogram!"
"The next hint says, the picture is a parallelogram."
"I TOLD YOU!!"
"Yeah, we know, it's a parallelogram."
"What do you mean WE? I'm the only one who saw the parallelogram!"

"The last one is a two."
"Are you sure? Where do you see a two?"
"How do you not see a two?"

"We only have a minute left, put in the keys!!"
"If we're wrong, we'll get penalized! We'll run out of time! We'll lose!"
"If we're wrong, we lose anyway! PUT IN THE KEYS!!"
"Don't screw it up!!"

Whistles and Bells!! We win, with a minute to spare!

"What happens if we lose?"
"We're trapped in here forever, duh."
"We're trapped in here forever anyway!!"
"Good point."

Living With Statisticians

In case you need an update, Tim Krall began college as a math major, took a semester off and went back the following fall to declare his new major of English (Creative Writing) and Theater. Never saw that coming. Lest you think he left math because he didn't like it, wasn't good at it, or has lost his lifelong interest in numbers, brackets, and statistics, let me assure you that is not the case. Most of the random facts coming out of his mouth are numbers related, and we hear a lot of them. When Caroline headed off to college, she was also focused on numbers, and has only a couple more classes left before completing her majors in Statistics and Government. To say she is in her element with the daily briefings would be an understatement.

Thanks to Tim's fascination with Worldometer, we get twice daily updates about the numbers and rankings, both US and worldwide. To keep it interesting, he refers to countries or states rising and falling in the "power rankings," or the upcoming "matchup"  between places with close case counts. He likes to provide details about numbers as related to population size, just in case we have all forgotten how percentages work. He also likes to pronounce it "world-oh-meeter" instead of "world-om-ehter." Which is making Sabine crazy. I'm sure he is doing it just to mess with her.

Caroline is much more interested in charts and graphs from daily updates. Yesterday, during the Gov. Walz briefing, she was thoroughly annoyed with the coverage.

"Ugh! Where's the graph? He is pointing to a graph!"
"You know, they probably only have one camera."
"They should have a split screen!!"

And then:

"Oh, look at that!  See that line? See how flat it is? This is so awesome."
"I do love a good Confidence Interval..."
"Watch this, are you watching this? See how the whole pink box moves over? Isn't that great?"
"I just love this guy..."

And this morning, randomly:

"The best part about the graphs yesterday? That thing where the line showed ICU beds now, then the line for a 24 hour ramp up, then the line for a 72 hour ramp up. That was so awesome!!"

Obviously, we all know none of this is awesome. But, if my kids can find a way to be interested and engaged in the process of getting through the dark days, I think I'll take it.

Tuesday Performances

Andrew has been working every day from his spot in the basement. In case you are looking for a new location yourself, I can recommend using an egress window as an excellent standing desk. Good natural light, appropriate height, room for a laptop and a cup of coffee. While I am the manager of most daily activities, Andrew has absolutely been doing his part -- he has a dishwashing day, comes up with dinner ideas, ventures out to the grocery store. He also came up with one of our weekly family activities. He calls it Tuesday Performances.

A piece of paper, posted on the refrigerator titled "Tuesday Performances" appeared not long after the college students arrived home. It said, "3/24 -- Dad will recite Colridge's Kubla Khan from memory."

Mom -- "What is this Tuesday performance thing?"

Dad -- "I think we need something to prepare for each week. No pressure, but I'll put something together."

Mom -- "Okay . . . I guess. Do I have to do something? I have to do something eventually, don't I?"

Dad -- "No pressure. But, yes. You do."

3/24, at a gathering after dinner in the living room:

"What is this thing? Dad's going to recite poetry? From memory? Where's the poem? Get me the book, I'm going to follow along and make sure he doesn't screw it up!"

"You know, at least he is putting himself out there."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Give me the book."

He did very well. Two mistakes. He was cheered and mocked simultaneously, as only one's children can do.

3/31:

"Charades? What are these charades? Dad's doing that? After the Tiger Woods Pictionary debaucle?" (Andrew once could not get the clue of Tiger Woods in pictionary from a lovely drawing of a tiger among trees. He has never lived it down.)

"Caroline and Linnea are doing a song together? This will be great!"

(Apparently, Caroline and Linnea specifically chose a song loathed by their brother, and laughed hysterically throughout. Mom was confused.)

"A surprise performance by Sabine? Oh, boy..."
(A dramatic reading of Yertle the Turtle, well done.)

4/7:

"More charades? By Linnea? What is she doing? Are you driving a car? She's a terrible driver! Driving Miss Daisy! Wait, are you a ballerina now? What happened to the car? Now she's running. Why is she running? And twirling again? Baby Fish Mouth!! What? Chasing a tornado? Where did you get this idea?"

(She Googled "Ideas for Charades." Resourceful, that one)

" Mom is playing the piano? Huh."

(Mom did play the piano. My piano teacher may have rolled over in her grave!)

"Dad's doing another dramatic reading? What is it this time? We have to guess? How are we supposed to do that?"

(It was Lincoln's 2nd Inaugural. Mom got it after the first few lines, the kids didn't get it until it actually mentioned the Civil War. Slackers.)

Nothing on the list yet for 4/14 . . . but maybe a monologue, staring Tim? As a woman from 1934?

I thought we were done with all this

We are not homeschooling. Forget the fact that three of the kids are in college, and are responsible for themselves, I am not the right personality for homeschooling. I didn't like teaching school when I got paid to do it, I certainly don't want to do it now. I was never the homework helper mom, even when they were young. After all, if you are in 4th grade this year, don't you still remember 3rd grade math from last year? You can help the current 3rd grader with any questions. This is why I have four children!

Where we do excel is providing the tools and structure that helps people succeed. Everyone has a desk space, we are managing the power cords and the internet access. Do you need a printer that has both paper and ink? We've got you covered! A calculator, ACT prep book, science fair tri-fold board? All available as needed throughout all the schooling years. Even as they headed off to college, a simple text question would get them information, or something ordered on Amazon, or a phone call to talk through a new adulting task.

They are all doing a great job managing their own educations right now. Although, to be fair, Sabine is really just getting started, she could potentially need more guidance structure encouragement bossing around than the rest of them. I have high hopes, though, especially now that the IB Diploma testing has been canceled.

Mom -- "Hey, Sabine, looks like they have canceled IB testing."
Sabine -- "This is the best day of my life."

So, why do I feel like a slacker right now? And like I should be more engaged and involved? There are articles galore about homeschooling, and structure, and families setting up a Zoom meeting for the three and five year olds. And pictures of coloring desks, and iPads, and nature walks, and seed starters. If I have never done these things, why do I feel pressure to suddenly do them now?

Of course, I have actually been doing these things all along. Haven't we all? Wasn't the grocery shopping summer a homeschooling activity? And their ability to do laundry, and clean a bathroom, and weed the garden, and set up and run their own 3-day garage sale? They all know how to swim. And sing. And spell (well, maybe not Caroline...). And drive a car. And talk to grown-ups. And cook, laugh, read, love. We are all going to be fine. They are going to be fine. You are going to be fine.

And I might even help out a little more than I did when they were younger, since we are all adapting to a new normal.  After all, I never expected to have this conversation:

Tim -- "Looks like I have to do a video of my monologue."
Mom -- "That sounds interesting, do you need help with that?"
Tim -- "Well . . . I'm supposed to have some suggestion of a costume . . ."
Mom -- "Really? You? Who stopped dressing up for Halloween when you were eight?"
Tim -- "I know, right?"
Mom -- "So what do you have to dress up as?"
Tim -- "A woman, from 1934."

Huh. Didn't see that coming.

Musical Interludes

We had a quiet moment yesterday afternoon, four of us in the living room with knitting, Sudoku puzzles, and a little homework.

Then Caroline started singing. First just some tuneless humming, then some recognizable tunes, then words. While Tim is the improv comedy expert in our house, Caroline was definitely holding her own with virus appropriate lyrics. It was entertaining to listen to her come up with the next line, often causing a chuckle from the others when the words were particularly good -- or particularly bad. Tim gave it a shot at one point, only to be told:

"Hey! No changing songs in the middle!"
"But you just changed tunes?"
"I was done that one."
"How do you know you are done?"
"Because it's my song."

And then. Hallelujah. You know the one. Starting out the way it does, with Caroline's creative words in place of the real lyrics, not sure where it would end up. And suddenly, I hear humming harmony coming in from the desk where Linnea was working. And no laughing anymore.

And finally . . .

"Social Distancing" sung by Caroline alone the first time. But on the repeat, Tim and Linnea join in, perfectly in tune, adding their voices to hers. Three verses by Caroline, with humming harmony, and the "social distancing" chorus sung by all three of them. It was sad, and funny, and lovely all at the same time.

They stopped singing after that. Because, it was their song. And they knew it was done.

The Things You Learn at Home While Distance Learning

Obviously, I'm not doing Distance Learning. I'm not really doing much of anything around here except staying out of the way. But I sure am learning things about my family!

I have decided there is a reason we encourage our children to grow up and move away. College students in particular hit a steep learning curve when they go from high school classes, Schoology accounts with assignment lists that parents can access, and the ability to fall back on a ride from dad or an early wake up call from mom, to total personal responsibility. And by total responsibility, I might mean freedom to do anything you want whenever you want without any silly input from your parents -- who think they know better, but, really "life is just so much different now, you just don't understand!" All three of our college students attend schools in New York and Pennsylvania, all over 1,000 miles away. Sometimes, it seems crazy that we supported and even hoped for that distance, but I now know it was for the best.

Observing my children's study habits is making me crazy.

8 AM -- Everybody is sleeping
9 AM -- "I've got lots of reading to do"
10 AM -- "I think I'll take a walk and maybe get some coffee"
11 AM -- "I'll just watch a couple YouTube videos before I get started"
12 PM -- Lunch!
1 PM -- "Boy, I've got a lot to do"
2 PM -- "Ten hours until that assignment is due"
3 PM -- "Ugh. I just don't feel like doing this work, I need a break"
4 PM -- Naptime!
5 PM -- "Ugh. This is so stupid"
6 PM -- Dinner!
7 PM -- "Let's watch a movie"
8 PM (from the curious parents) "Did you get all your work done?" "Mooommmm" (eye roll)
9 PM -- "I'm so tired"
10 PM -- "Guess I'd better start those readings I need to do for tomorrow"
11 PM -- "Ugh. I just can't do this right now, I'm going to bed"

Curious parents -- "What about that stuff that was due at midnight tonight?"

College student -- "What? The stuff due tonight? I totally did that already!"

What? When?

Does Mom Ever Get to Watch Netflix?

We live in a small house. We didn't mean to still be in a small house, aka our starter home, at this point in our lives. It just sort of happened, and as people headed off to college it didn't make much sense to upsize to have space for winter and summer breaks and rattle around the rest of the year. Hindsight is always 2020 . . .

Andrew has worked from home on Fridays since last summer, he has all the equipment and security he needs, so switching to fulltime at home work hasn't been an issue. It did take a few days for him to settle into his permanent home location, but he is now restricted to the basement. He spends literally all day on phone calls and Skype, and apparently the rest of us tend toward disruptive and noisy. I guess that doesn't work for him. He's the only one actually earning money right now, so he rates the quietest space. Conveniently, the laundry is also down there, so with good planning pretty much anyone can start a load and get Andrew to move it to the dryer. Not so conveniently, our only television is located in Andrew's workspace. And, is attached to the wall.

Upstairs, we have three bedrooms for four children. The problems have already started! Tim is fine, has his own room, a desk, a chair, and plenty of well-located outlets. Sabine also has her own room, which her sisters complain about endlessly. Mind you, they have no interest in sharing with her -- she is pretty messy -- but they don't hesitate to notice the unfairness of the youngest sister having her own space! Linnea and Caroline currently share, but only have one desk. Everyone has headphones and earbuds, but who wants to have on headphones while on a video chat? Apparently, not these kids!

Downstairs, we have a dining room table and a desk, neither of which is anywhere near an outlet, so cords to computers are stretching everywhere. If we get through this pandemic without a computer hitting the ground after a cord gets tripped over, I will be amazed! I can't exactly keep track of who prefers working downstairs to upstairs, because everytime I look, a different person is sitting in a different place, including the couch. Sometimes using a computer, sometimes on a phone, but occasionally using actual pen and paper. Who knew?

Even with everyone settled into a location, there are still issues to resolve.

"Shh!! Dad's on a call!"
"I need to Zoom at 9:00."
"But, I need to Zoom at 9:30, will you be done?"
"That's three people, no one else can stream then."
"But I need to download my video lecture!!"
"But I need to Skype with my TA!!"
"What are you doing on the computer? Are you streaming?"
"Who is using the microwave?!?! You are killing the internet!!"
"I'm just trying to warm up my coffee!"
"You CANNOT use the microwave without checking with us!!"
"Ugh. Am I ever going to get to finish watching that thing on YouTube?"
"Who unplugged my charger? My phone is going to die!"
"Where is my charger?"
"Whose charger is this?"
"I need to use that outlet!"
"Why are you working down here?"
"She's in my room, on Zoom, not on mute."
"Ugh. Why can't you be on mute? You're so disruptive!"
"Where are my headphones?"
"My headphones aren't working, can I use yours?"

Where is Mom in all this? Not on Netflix, that's for sure! All those awesome shows available for streaming right now? No way, not enough bandwith for that! I can Zoom, but really only in the evenings, unless it is really important and I get permission for a limited time. But definitely not in a room with the door closed, because all those spaces are taken. "What could you possibly need to talk to people about on a video anyway, Mom??" (Insert eyeroll)

And where did I type this blog post? Sitting on the bottom step in the living room, next to an outlet. Because someone unplugged my charger . . .