Brave New World

Last night’s dream: I had inherited a giant and elegant house. It was an amazing, one-of-a-kind place with vaulted ceilings, numerous great-rooms (what is a great-room, anyway?) and a bowling alley, but it was so vast that I kept getting lost in it. And while I adored it, I was perpetually concerned about how I’d pay for its upkeep.

Em is doing great. So am I. It’s a joy to have her here, and she seems to be thriving so far. I love watching her 11-year-old brain crank back into educational and social action after such a long hiatus. On her first day of school just over a week ago, she felt pretty lost and overwhelmed, but already she’s eased into the swing of things. This morning when I walked her onto the playground, she told me (very politely), “You can leave now. I’m used to being here.”

We’re super-busy every day (even weekends), beginning early in the morning (5:30 for me and 7:00 for her) and resuming in the afternoons with homework and much more. Last Wednesday (her early dismissal day) we had so much to do that I jotted down a rough timeline.

Ha ha ha: best-laid plans! Costco was running half an hour late. Then there was the 45-minute traffic jam en route to Target. And rush-hour traffic on the way back. So much for being organized. (By the way, I started dinner at 6:00, a mere 1.5 hours behind.)

The hours fly by as I help her tackle new things like long division: daunting at first, but she’s learning fast. And she likes doing it! After dinner a few days ago, she asked me to write out a problem for her, and she got completely absorbed in figuring it out. I enjoy calling upon my teaching background, and so far she’s been really cooperative. In fact, she’s a much better student than my kids at Ohlone College were.

As she slept this morning, I left a message for her on the kitchen blackboard.

By the time we left for school, here’s how things stood.

Even weekends are absurdly full, with some not-fun things (her dentist appointment last Saturday) as well as plenty of enjoyable stuff. For example, I’d bought a kit of pre-measured ingredients that she whipped up without assistance from me.

I’ve been letting her stay in my room until she feels more established here. Early next week, once the new Small-funded sheets and comforter arrive for her bed, she’ll move in there. In the meantime, she has a quirky little habit. The second I get up in the wee hours to use the bathroom, in her sleep she migrates into my spot over there on the left.

On the Covid front, it’s no surprise that there have been cases in most if not all of the classrooms as Omicron predictably surges. The school is doing a stellar job of trying to manage it, with frequent testing (three times last week and the same this week). I wouldn’t want to be a school administrator or teacher these days. The pressure on them is relentless.

I’m inexpressibly grateful for the vaccines that Ember and I have had. If we do end up contracting the virus—not unlikely—I expect we should still be in good shape. And it’s a relief to know that, if that does happen, the vulnerable people in Eleni’s family won’t be exposed.

Emmy and I have an AirBnB reservation in the Sierra foothills on Saturday and Sunday (long weekend) so we can try to find some snow to play in. But that will depend entirely on Covid’s cooperation, and much could happen between now and then. Along with the rest of the world, she and I are weary of being unable to count on much. The ongoing uncertainty is hard to take. But at least she can rely on spending the semester here, one way or another, regardless of how things unfold—and to going home to her family in Chico afterwards.

Eleni and Jason miss her a ton—of course! But they’re as resilient as their beloved daughter. Luckily we all know that what we’re doing is absolutely in her best interests. I continue to applaud them for their courage in this decision. I do think that sometimes the hardest choices and actions are the best ones in the long run. Our plan is an investment in Ember’s entire future.

Eleni reports that the Covid numbers in anti-vax, anti-mask Chico are massive. No way Em could have returned to school there. I’m delighted that she’s here and living a full life again—at least for the moment. And if the school does have to close for the short-term, that’s okay. We’ll keep up with the work from here until they reopen.

So: onward, brave souls all. I figure that by the time February rolls around, we’ll all feel more settled into our new routines.