First day

The boys are back in school! It was the first time since fall of 2019 that things had some semblance of normalcy - no Daily Pass, no lining up socially distanced, no masks. The kids were super confused that they could just walk right in. There was a certain amount of complaining and dread leading up to today, but I was glad that in the car they were happily buzzing about where their rooms would be and hoping they’d be close to each other. They were bouncing off the walls this morning which says to me there was some excitement about getting the school year going. I’m not thrilled about getting up an hour earlier, but boy does it feel good to be back.

I found out at a particularly chaotic new parent meet up on Saturday that they were able to get enough workers for the after school program so the boys can stay after all. So they’ll be walking home at 4 instead of 2:30. Huzzah.

We all got our boosters on Saturday. I held both boys on my lap since they were both a little scared. We bribed them with $5 if they didn’t freak out, and it worked. It’s too late to protect them during these two first weeks of school, which is most likely when they’d get it, but I figured better late than never. Most parents at the meet up were commenting they hadn’t boosted their kids yet. I got my fourth shot hopefully in time to protect me during my event which I am privately referring to as “covidpalooza”. Oh, just wait until I slide my “masks optional” policy on to the website on Friday. I don’t expect all hell to break loose necessarily, but I’d be surprised if I didn’t get any push back or refund requests. It’s ok - it’s going to be that kind of year. Everyone wants something different from me but in the end I have to do what’s best for me and my event, and people who feel so unsafe that they want everyone around them to wear masks regardless of how immune they are because pretty much everyone caught this thing in the last few weeks, well, those people probably shouldn’t go to a four day indoor dance event right now. 

I have three more weeks to get my act together before the big moment. I feel pretty good - things are under control, I just have a lot of printouts to make this week, including things I’ve never had to learn before, like creating QR codes, and more digging through boxes that have been collecting dust for two years. I definitely have plenty to keep me busy for three full weeks. 

There was a massive storm out in the desert over the weekend; we watched it on the security cameras. Non-stop lightning and torrential rain for a couple of hours. Apparently we got a year’s worth of rain in one night. Neighbors in the local FB group said they’d been in the area for fifty years and never seen anything like it. The wash immediately behind the cabin was raging, but I don’t think any water got inside the place. It’s hard to tell. I’m more worried about the slab being compromised - this is a house built on sand, after all. I wanted to go out there and check on the place, but the roads were pretty washed out and we were too busy yesterday to drop everything and go. Honestly I could head out there while the kids are in school, and might just do that, if I hear the roads are passable again. I could do with a solo road trip.

Back to school-ish

We had the back to school informational zoom yesterday and it was a bit of a shit show. It started with the burning question on everyone’s mind - what about after school care? - and for that a couple of other schools were invited to the zoom to hear from the spokesperson for Beyond the Bell, the independent service that watches the kids on the schoolyard until 6 pm. BTB is always a bit of a mess, but especially was last year when they were chronically understaffed and we all just had to cross our fingers and hope it would all work out with one staff member per 50 kids. And for the most part it was fine…I think? It’s hard when you come from a generation where kids were regularly thrown to the wolves and told to just figure their own shit out…my afterschool program was wandering the streets of NYC and being subject to every gang of marauding local kids and/or dangerous sociopath or pervert I happened to encounter…but I digress.

So basically BTB said they do not have enough staff to accommodate everyone and will only accept kids who can commit to the full week and day, as in, not be picked up until nearly 6 pm. And they told us this days before school starts when all other options are full. The parents were APOPLECTIC. It was cringey listening to everyone tear this guy apart. Oh, how I know what it feels like to be the messenger! At the same time I was confused - if you’re a working parent, isn’t it better that your kid stay as long as possible…? They also said if they got more staff they would accept kids with more flexible schedules. Which I think is definitely possible; I’ve seen it happen before. They probably waited so long to tell us because they thought they could find staff and then just couldn’t. I may soon be facing my own staffing nightmare as irreplaceable members of my staff tell me the day my event starts that they just tested positive. Fun. 

At any rate I decided right then and there to not take up two spots we don’t need and just have the kids walk home right after school instead. Until they get this mess sorted out I don’t want to use something that’s just a luxury for us and could take away from people who desperately need it. The kids are fine with it. Now I just worry they’ll come home and sit on their iPads all night, which was 100% why I had them at BTB until 4 to begin with - to get them out playing with their friends. I’m also worried about extreme heat in the middle of the day for the next couple of months - they will probably call me to pick them up a lot. I know I need to come up with some kind of schedule - you need to read for this amount of time, no iPads before this time, etc etc. But right now I’m so overwhelmed with work that the idea of deciding on and attempting to implement things of this nature sounds awful. I get tired of being the nag that’s always having to make these kids do things they don’t want to do. I guess that’s just “parenting”, though, huh? At least with the extreme heat we’ll be experiencing for the next month it shouldn’t be too hard to convince the kids to jump in the pool after school every day. School, here we come!

Workity work work

I’m in the thick of it now. If this were birth it would be called active labor, and the actual weekend would be the pushing part. The good news for me is once the “baby” is born, unlike in real life, I’ll actually get some sleep and rest in the weeks after. Yay!

I find myself compulsively checking the cabin camera just to look at it because it instantly brings my blood pressure down just thinking about the desert. There was a massive rainstorm out there that washed out roads all through Mojave and Death Valley - a “thousand year storm” they called it, in which a year’s worth of rain fell in one hour. The H and I both watched it on our security cameras. It was wild. I watched the shipping container and expected it to slowly drift away, but it didn’t. The wash right behind our place was full and flowing for about 24 hours. I don’t think there was any damage to our place, but it’s hard to know for sure. I got the number of a highly recommended handyman out there from a FB group, but determined in a phone call that he’s too expensive for us. So, it’s back to waiting until the neighbor gets back in December. Sigh. At least we can get *some* camping in in the fall before it gets too cold at night. I have a trip planned for end of next month with tickets bought to an astronomy festival at a neighboring observatory. I’m counting the days.

In the meantime I’m engaged in complex constant decision making all day every day, which I’ve now learned is tough on our brains and was exacerbated by the pandemic. I find myself cranky and exhausted by the constant judgement calls. And I’m at that unpleasant part of the event where a) registrations are once again slow as molasses as I just raised the prices, and I don’t know if it’ll pick up again, and b) people are starting to have to cancel (thankfully normal stuff, not covid related), so that every day I’m getting about five refunds to one or two people signing up, which totally sucks. It’s normal and nothing to be concerned about, but…it sucks. The budget is, as always, spiraling out of control (I think I’ve agreed to at least $10,000 in unexpected extra expenses in the last two days) and I’m worried about money. I have no idea how this is all going to shake out. 

But one thing on my side is the fact that the event will happen, and I don’t have to worry about if the hotel will let me out of my contract or not since I’ve met my obligation, there will be income, people are excited about it, my staff is all in place, and in a blink of an eye it’ll be over. This time last year I was issuing refunds all day. This doesn’t feel better than that, but it is. And as far as covid stuff, everyone’s over it - I don’t get a feeling of much interest on either side; people are sick of talking about it and just want to get together and have fun, no matter what that looks like. I’m not as worried as I was about being sued or having some ugly confrontation at registration - I think both of those things are very unlikely at this point. If there’s one thing I know about event planning, it’s that the thing you think is going to be The Big Problem never actually is - it’s always some other thing you never could have anticipated. 

Boys are rounding out their final week at camp. Friday I have the annual fun of heading up to the school to look at the kids’ class lists to see which of their friends are in their classes; I have all their supplies and new backpacks; we’re ready to roll. 

Same same but different

The last two weeks were all about covid; this week has been all about work. Real, intense, hours-long-without-breaks work. Which, to be fair, is how most people live. Most people live in a state of constant exhaustion that I couldn’t even begin to contemplate. 

As had been promised by other covid sufferers, my symptoms pretty much disappeared by the end of last week. The fatigue vanished, as did the feeling that I need to “be careful” all the time. I got through my singing gig ok. I’m coughing a bit still, but no longer feel the compulsive urge to cough every time I open my mouth to talk. 

The kids gloriously returned to camp this week, and I hunkered down, doing the emotionally difficult work of delving into files and boxes that I hadn’t looked at since September of 2019, my last event. It was like looking through a ghost’s things. Who even was that pre-pandemic person? I don’t know her anymore. I don’t know the event anymore, either, but that will soon change as I slowly reacquaint myself. I’m trying really hard to get ahead of myself and do all the big projects now so I can relax in the last week or so…even while knowing this was always the goal and that goal was never met. I was always still up at 3 AM the night before the event printing t shirt vouchers and nightly guest lists and trying to pack. But all I can do right now is slowly and deliberately plug away at things, making each day a mix of customer service, long physical jobs (today was unwrapping dozens of trophies and painstakingly applying this year’s engraving plates over last year’s engraving plates - that took about three hours), complex computer-based work (today was two hours on the schedule - still not done), and research for things like costumes and QR generators. Then I pick up the kids and continue customer service and research well into the night. This is my life until September. 

As can be expected, I have a mix of feelings about being back in business - I’m glad normal routines have been reinstated, I’m glad I have an income again, I’m glad to be a relevant part of the community. But naturally I’m also scared of all the covid-related criticism I’m going to face, I’m scared of displeasing the most vocal people, and I’m scared of normal customer stuff that was really nice to not have to deal with for a while. I’m back, with everything that entails, good and bad.

We got the boys’ class assignments in the mail, and I was delighted that Bobby got the 5th grade teacher with the Mohawk and the PhD. I don’t know Theo’s new teacher. Sadly, Bobby’s awesome 3rd grade teacher has left the school after 25 years, so she’s not an option for Theo. I warned the boys the teacher crisis may get worse this year - last year on occasion they would have to cram in with another grade when a substitute couldn’t be found; I think with the mass exodus from the teaching profession plus everyone getting covid over and over, it could be a weird year; I’m preparing myself for some days or even weeks of kids not being able to be at school because there just isn’t enough staff for them. The good (?) news is, most pandemic restrictions have been dropped - masks, testing, and distancing are now gone, and finally my pet peeve was given the axe yesterday, the Daily Pass. I hope we can go back to Christmas pageants and Halloween festivals and all that other stuff that’s been gone for two years. I’m looking forward to some normal family life around here finally. 

Where has the summer gone?

Two weeks from Monday the boys are back in school. Three weeks after that is my event. The time is flying way too fast.

Despite my ambitions to the contrary, we ended up having an incredibly lazy week of staying in pyjamas and playing video games or watching cartoons. We went in the pool one day…and that was it. My covid exhaustion just wouldn’t allow for any outings, and the kids didn’t want to do anything, either, so I thought, what the heck? They have already stated that this has been their favorite week of the summer. Is it so terrible to have one week of just being complete lazy slobs? When I was a kid entire summers were spent like this. So, that’s how it went down. I cooked three meals a day, cleaned the kitchen, made sure everyone brushed teeth, occasionally showered, did customer service all day, and tried to recover. Yesterday was the first day that I didn’t feel like getting out of bed was a huge burden. Which says to me that I am finally on the road to recovery after this covid nightmare.

I’m very worried about long term effects, especially heart damage. I’m thinking at my next check up in two months I should ask about it, maybe run some kind of scan? I’ve just heard too many stories of perfectly healthy people dropping dead of heart attacks shortly after covid, and apparently BA5 is tough on hearts (not that I know I had BA5, but it’s likely). It’s my worst fear to become incapacitated due to stroke or die leaving these boys motherless. It haunts my dreams. My father has had heart issues since he was about my age, maybe a little older. I’m worried. Are my days of long hikes and physical activity officially over? I definitely still don’t feel normal - I still have a nagging dry cough that surfaces every time I try to talk (I have to sing Sunday and am very concerned about it), still feel pretty out of sorts and tired. I’ve been told this can drag on for weeks. Sigh.

I feel like things can get back to kind-of normal next week when the kids are back at camp. I’ll have to get up earlier, I’ll have the house to myself which automatically makes me more productive, and it’ll be August which will light a fire under me as far as really getting things in order for my event which is so close I can taste it. I’ve already ordered the boys new back packs for the year, I’m just waiting on supply lists. I’m guessing the week before school is when we’ll get their class lists and teachers. It’s exciting - I love the beginning of a new school year. I only wish they shared my enthusiasm!

Recovery

It was a truly awful week. I was afraid to exert myself, so I lay I bed all week, but I felt like lying in bed was only making me sicker. I never had a fever again past Saturday, but just felt tired and out of sorts with a dry cough and raspy voice. The kids were at camp and the H worked until 2 AM every night, so I basically just lived like I did before 2012 - all alone in this house with nothing to do except work. I don’t know how the week went by. I tested every two days and as of Thursday was still getting very dark negatives. It was very frustrating.

I finally left the house yesterday to pick up the boys from camp. There’s no way I’m still contagious at this point. They seemed to enjoy it - we of course could barely drag any information about it out of them, but they both said they’d like to go again. Bobby said he got really good at archery, and they sang us some camp songs. I’m glad it was a success. They will definitely be back next year. 

Now I face the gauntlet of taking care of them full time this entire week. For how exhausted I still feel, I don’t know how I’m going to do it, really. Just take it one day at a time I guess. Today we’re just lying around in PJs doing laundry and cleaning up from both our trips. School is only three weeks away (I can’t believe how fast the summer has flown by) and I want things around here to be neat and organized for back to school. This week if I can manage it we’ll go to the beach, go on some light hikes, some playgrounds, etc. Then they have two weeks of the rec center camp and then school starts. Then my event happens. 

I keep reminding myself what hell I was in this time last year trying to decide whether to cancel my event or not - it was just awful. At least this year the event will go on. I’m trying to get myself psyched up for it. There’s not a huge attendance, and I don’t know if things will pick up next month or not. Maybe? Or is once again news of a new variant going to scare people off? I haven’t made a decision about requiring masks or not; I’m sort of hoping LA County will make the decision for me, but it’s touch and go at the moment. I feel like everyone I know that goes on a trip right now comes home with covid. The cat is out of the bag at this point. The messed up thing is this infection won’t even protect me against catching it again before my event in seven weeks. I mean it’s unlikely I’ll catch it again, especially if I get the booster I’m now eligible for, but there’s still a chance so I still have to be cautious in the days leading up to it. I wonder how many times we’re all going to catch covid in our lives?? Multiple, unfortunately. Finally tested negative today but the symptoms still linger. I don’t know when I’m going to feel normal again. 

Knockin on Heaven’s Door

I don’t know quite how to begin with the story of our honeymoon, so I’ll just start with the fact that it began well. My sister and brother-in-law arrived from Florida for childcare duties on time and in good spirits, we all remained covid-free, and we got on the plane and went to Fiji. The H had commented that morning that he got a text that most of his coworkers had just tested positive after going on a family trip the weekend before - I asked him if he’d worn a mask at work like I’d asked in the days before the trip, and he sheepishly said no. We still had to pass a covid test at the hotel or face a seven day quarantine. So I started the trip on edge.

I also got served a disgusting greasy steak burrito labeled vegetarian at the airport, which I unfortunately ate about 1/4 of before I bit into a huge piece of gristle and realized this was no “beyond meat”. This made me very sick on the plane which made the 11 1/2 hour flight torture. 

Still, we got there, got our rental car, drove on the wrong side of the road and made it to the hotel, and they even got us into our room hours before we were allowed to check in. I discovered much to my disappointment that the all inclusive deal I’d bought was only applicable to one restaurant on the property; then found out later that at that restaurant the dinners were buffet only, and there was only one vegetarian option, so I basically had a choice of one thing to eat every night (for this I paid an extra $1000). Also that restaurant was basically like a loud chaotic middle school cafeteria, with screaming children falling out of chairs and cutlery clattering to the floor every five seconds and tons of people bustling around. I hated it. Total opposite of my Cancún all inclusive experience.

We had three perfect days. Sunday we took our only trip in the car to visit The Valley of the Sleeping Giant (a so-so botanical garden) and the Sabeto Mud Baths (which was fun until a puppy started stalking me and attacking my ankles). GPS didn’t work there and neither did the cell service I’d paid extra for - thankfully Waze did so we were at least able to get around. The next day we did a snorkel tour to a couple of islands. The first snorkel spot we all got the shit bitten out of us by sea lice - we thought we were being stung by jellyfish but an Australian traveler told us otherwise. Still, it was a nice trip that involved lots of jumping off the boat. 

The day after we did a similar tour but just to one small island where we spent the day. That morning we had managed to finagle our covid tests after we’d shown up for our appointment the night before only to find everything closed, and had tested negative, so I felt like I could finally relax and really enjoy this trip. 

Then early Wednesday morning I started having pretty bad diarrhea. I got up multiple times in the dark of night, and since the first review I’d read of that days’ tour was that someone had gotten food poisoning there, I assumed I was in for a bout of that as well. We’d eaten a lunch cooked out on the island and I’d had lots of raw vegetables and water of questionable provenance, so, I figured, here we go. Unfortunately the nausea started soon after and I spent about eight hours in agony before finally throwing up. That day’s tour - a cultural trip to another island with dinner - was off. I moved the next day’s River tubing tour to Friday assuming I’d need a recovery day. I took a covid test. Negative.

We took Thursday as a day to recover from my miserable bout of stomach upset, but I didn’t feel much better - I couldn’t stomach hardly any food, everything looked unappealing, and I just wanted to stay in bed. By Friday morning - the day of our river tubing tour where I had to get up at 5AM - I felt shaky and sweaty and miserable from not having eaten in two days. Despite getting up and getting dressed I just didn’t feel like going, but I hated the thought of canceling yet another thing when I was sure the sickness was behind me, I just needed to start eating. I took another covid test.

Positive.

I couldn’t believe it and yet I could believe it. Obviously the illness hadn’t made it to my nose and throat yet on the previous tests. And it’s rare to have gastrointestinal issues but not unheard of. The H was - and still is - inexplicably negative. Which means one of two things - either he caught it from his coworkers, was asymptomatic and passed it to me, where the virus went nuts (he had his booster two months ago - I wouldn’t be eligible until I got home), OR his booster just protected him from wherever I caught it (the plane, the resort, who knows). 

At this point I was feverish and coughing. We were set to fly out the next day. It was the worst nightmare I could have imagined. Do I stay in a third world country alone with covid for a full week, on my dime? Or do I try to make it home? For the next 24 hours we did nothing but helplessly debate this while I repeatedly took my temperature and translated Celsius to Fahrenheit - I was averaging 101-102°. Also, I was starving, and there was no way to get any food I could stomach, since there were no stores to speak of and the stupid buffet restaurant wouldn’t let the H take anything back for me (he finally smuggled some bananas and dinner rolls in his pants). I googled that the Fiji airport would be doing temperature checks at check in and threw up my hands in despair. 

But by the next morning my fever was gone. And I had aleve on hand in case it returned. We decided considering the stakes that I should try to make the trip, as awful as that felt on multiple levels. We checked out in the morning and then had an interminable six hour wait sitting around the pool until we could finally leave. I also got my period during this time. Thanks, I hate it.

When we got to the airport nobody did any temperature checks, after all that. And we did make it home, although of course I didn’t eat or sleep a wink, and the trip was absolute torture. I kept my mask glued to my face until the backs of my ears were red and raw. 

Upon arrival home, I immediately shuffled myself up to the attic and spoke to the kids & relatives in the pool from the attic window - later they made a little party for me since the next day was my birthday. 

The relatives left that night and I slept alone in the attic so as not to infect the kids. In the evening my fever suddenly returned with a vengeance, though - almost 103 - and I panicked and made an appointment for the next day to try to get paxlovid. I dragged my ass out of bed early in the morning and drove a half hour to the clinic only to be told I was a day too late for the drug and was sent home empty handed. 

This was where it really all fell apart for me.

The reality that this was how I was spending my fucking 50th birthday - after just having had this fucking virus RUIN the honeymoon I’d been planning for a year, ruin getting to hug my kids or properly see them off to their first ever sleepaway camp experience I’d been planning for ten years, do god knows what to my internal organs, this is how I turn 50?!? This?!? Infected with The Scary Death Thing?!?

Dylan’s “Knockin on Heaven’s Door” came on my iPhone shuffle and I just collapsed into sobs. This is it. I finally have covid after 2 1/2 years of dodging it and being the lucky one. And it’s been horrible. It has not been “mild” or “just a cold” or “just a couple of days”. Right now I’m going on about a week of feeling like shit and all the disruption and chaos that’s brought. I didn’t get to see my kids off to camp. And my entire birthday went by in a blur - I have not looked at the FB birthday greetings because everything about my birthday this year I find intensely depressing. I feel very angry and frustrated. All of the fun things I’d booked for myself this week while the kids are at camp are of course now canceled. I don’t know when I’ll feel better, I don’t know if I’ll be able to pick up the kids on Saturday or not. I hope so, but I don’t know. 

And in the middle of all this I still have fucking anti-vaxxers emailing me practically every day trying to argue with my covid policy for my event. I want to shoot them all in the fucking face.

So, this is it. This is what my honeymoon was like, this is what my 50th birthday was like. The worst possible outcome, really. And the worst, most laughable thing is I can’t even relax and not worry about being infected right before my event, because with this variant you can be reinfected just weeks later.

I hate everything. 

*I’ve received some very negative feedback on this post about the fact that I traveled home knowing I was sick. I get that many of you will have some opinions about that, but I’m telling you right now, you have no business judging me unless you’ve found yourself in my same position. So basically I’m trapped in a third world country with little to no health care system, at 50 years old, with no idea of what’s going to happen to me or how much this is all going to cost - how long are they going to keep me there? They say seven days, but what if I keep testing positive? What if I get very sick and need to go to the hospital? What if I can’t get a flight back when I’m in the clear to go home and am trapped there for days or weeks more? I’ve got two little kids at home with no available childcare - what if they test positive and can’t go to their camp for the week? What if I’m still trapped there when the week is up and can’t get home and we have no childcare? The H doesn’t get sick days or paid days off. I have a business to run and didn’t have my computer with me. What if I have to spend thousands on a flight just to get out of there? This was a very agonizing decision and I was terrified. I glued my mask on my face and held my breath and went. Do I feel good about it? No. But again unless you’ve been faced with that horrible scenario you have no business judging me, period.*