It's the little things (that drive me the craziest)
Last week, Austin was a complete clusterfuck of snow and ice. A once in a lifetime storm (which, people keep reminding me last happened when I was Ellis' age, so it would seem to be at least twice in a lifetime, and Texas could have prepared, but still) pummeled us, dumping about 6" of snow. My husband, from Illinois, was incredulous that it should shut down the city, but I reminded him, Honey, this is Texas. There are no snowplows.
And then there was an ice storm on top of it.
It was a disaster. Thousands and thousands of people were left without power, heat, or water in 10 degree weather in homes that weren't built for this kind of cold. People died. Ted Cruz went to Cancun (and then had the audacity to COME BACK).
It was a nightmare situation. So many people's homes were destroyed, small businesses were destroyed, I don't have the words to describe how stressful and scary it was, and due to really lucky zoning and the fact that I live near a power generating dam - our house kept power the whole time. I was really lucky!
Grocery stores were shut down, roads were closed, if you had friends with power, you couldn't go to their place to warm up because it's still a pandemic!
But anyway -
My 3-year-old was thrilled. He loves the snow. Never once in his entire life has he told anyone he was too cold and wanted to go inside. To him, this was a magical event, it was a wonder. To me, it was scary and frustrating. Stressful. My mom and stepdad lost power so they were with us during the day, and our friend also lost power AND water so she and her cat moved in and had a slumber party for a few nights. Our entire seven-person pod (including the kids) was under one roof. Ellis was in heaven. He loves cats. I was losing my mind.
And because we're here, and our jobs are in New York, everything was just marching merrily along! You don't get a snow day when everything is virtual to begin with, so were grid our teeth and tried to be moderately productive with an excited toddler and clingy 1-year-old.
Which meant the kids got things they normally don't. Phone time? Sure. Cookie? Absolutely. Another cookie? If it will buy me seventeen seconds of peace, you got it, kid. Ellis learned the phrase, "Just do whatever you want."
And again, to my kids this was heaven. I'm sure Ellis will remember it as the most fun thing that ever happened—he got so spoiled while we, his parents, spiraled deeper and deeper into stress chaos. I'm becoming a lot more aware of the sorts of things and feelings that will make up the kids' earliest memories, and I'm pretty sure Ellis will remember this. And I think it will be a really happy memory! He ate so many cookies and watched so much Mickey Mouse Motorland, I really fucking hope so.
And it makes me think of a lot of things. First, how my parents and every other older-than-I-am adult with kids told me for years, "One day, you'll get it." There are so many things to "get" and one of the things I'm "getting" is that you really never stop having major aha moments about how your parents were real people the whole time they were also your parents and when they said "We didn't get a manual, we didn't know what we were doing," they actually meant it.
Those things that felt like special treats, Happy Meals, TV all day Sundays, movie marathons at night, were desperate attempts to keep me mellow, to buy their own sanity. I get it now! Some of the memories that stick out in my mind as being the most fun were the most stressful for my mom.
And it makes me feel so much closer to her.
At the same time, these little things, little moments shared with your babies, these are the times everyone tells you to "soak up" and "enjoy every second." When your son asks you over and over what every character in a Richard Scarry Busytown book is saying ("What's this mousie saying? What's this piggy saying?" and me "Why are there so many animals living in Busytown?!") it's adorable, but also, oh my god, it makes me grit my teeth so hard I'm afraid they might explode out of my skull. When we're trying to conserve energy so are wearing our coats inside and building blanket forts it's sweet, sure, but I'm also frantically hoping we don't actually lose power and simultaneously wondering what emails I'm missing and how many things are falling through the cracks.
The most mundane moments of boredom and frustration could be the "little things" that I think of so fondly (the same way I think of that Happy Meal now as an adult) if I wasn't such an asshole. If I could not want so badly to have some time to myself to look at my phone in peace. If I was able to "be present." I know I'll regret being distracted, and all the Hail Mary last-ditch efforts to feel like I'm not drowning in babies, and that also makes me feel sad and weird and crazy.
I don't even know where I'm going with this?
It's everything - it's identifying so strongly with my parents (I am 100% an adult now, I guess), needing my space so badly, feeling guilty for it, knowing how fleeting this time is, but also wanting it to go faster. Thinking about myself when things are so fucked for so many people. The little things that make up your daily experience as a parent/adult. And they make me the craziest.
There's nothing pat to say here to round it out, I could say I will hereby breathe when my son pulls my hair to steady himself while putting on his shoes, I will enjoy the feeling of that fat little hand on my head—but really, it hurts, and I'm impatient. And that's all I got.
Love, Your friend,
Laurel