Boreal Witch

I have been posting the entries, but now that it's become more of a journal than a blog, I'm going to refrain. I need a place I can vent and there's so much more I want to complain about. There's so much more I have to complain about. (For instance, did you know it takes a normal person about two hours to watch a movie but it takes a mother about a week to watch a movie? Mostly because she can only watch it in about 20 minute increments...)

Needless to say, I can't do it here, not without some of my readers taking offense or getting upset. So, I'm going to bid you all good-bye again. Perhaps someday this thing will read more like a blog than a journal. When that happens, I'll come back once again. 

Me: Quick question: Are you the only one in your house who takes the extra step to put things where they belong, or do your girls and Joe do it, too?

Becky: When I am doing dishes I feel no one wants to help load or empty. I do try my best to put things away. 

***

This is the woman's burden in a nutshell. 

I'll be the first to shout on the rooftops that my husband and boys actually do a lot around the house. The boys clean their own bathroom. My husband does the dishes almost every night (he even cooks on occasion!). They vacuum and make their own beds. So, really, I have nothing to complain about. 

It's just hard to feel content when there's still so much undone. Sure, the dishes get done and put away, but the mixer attachments still sit on the counter until I put them where they belong. The floor's never swept, the counters rarely wiped down. There's still work to do even after the work's done. 

This is not to say I'm not grateful. I am, truly I am. I like having the help. But when there's more work to do, it's no longer help. I still need to take the extra step to finish the job because I know no one else will. It's exhausting.

Which leads me to wonder: what if I allow my perfectionist tendencies to override my gratitude? What if I half-assed it? What if I left jobs unfinished? And what if I was okay with it? 

It's been a few days, hasn't it? I've been trying to catch up on some builds in Terraria. Balin's birthday party is this weekend and I've got a few things to finish up. I've been trying to edit my second novel. I've been doing all of the regular, hum drum, day-to-day activities. I've been planning a Spring Break trip (but have yet to make any arrangements). I've been working on the next RPG adventure. 

So, it's been a bit busy around here. 

I'm at the point where I am panicking inside because I feel the pressure. There's so much to do - too much to do - that I'm mentally repeating, "Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck...!" 

I've only myself to blame. I've never been great at time management. Perfect example: This morning, I decided to work on the RPG for a bit. I had some time before lunch. I opened the door to the games cabinet and audibly groaned. (Robinson, who was passing through the living room on the way to the kitchen, witnessed the head shake and shoulder sag.) It was a mess. Instead of pulling out the RPG materials and shutting the door, I spent the next 20 minutes reorganizing the games cupboard. It looked fabulous when it was finished, but seriously. This is how I spent my time? 

At least I wasn't playing Pokemon Go or doodling around on my phone, right?

Do I need to restart a priorities list? Resurrect the bullet journal? Do I start one-thing-at-a-time small? Or, like usual, how about just jumping in? 

I wish I felt better about delegating. I do things the way I like them done, but I've been trying more and more to yield because I simply can't do everything myself. I hate the way my kids clean their bathroom, but how else are they going to learn how to do an activity? 

So, in order to keep mischief and mayhem at bay, I'll make today's to-do list, according to priority: 

1. Prepare for Friday's RPG.

2. Finish last minute details for Saturday's Terraria party.

2a. Final presents in chests.

2b. Teleporter to forest pylon.

2c. Test run with weak character.

2d. Confirm final time of party.

3. School photo prep to family and friends.

And....go!

The School District of Beloit has finally decided to send our kids to school. Ours is the only district in the area which has not sent kids back to the classroom yet. They want to divide students into two groups. One group will attend school on Mondays and Tuesdays and the other group will go Thursdays and Fridays. Wednesdays will remain a no school day. 

While I am excited the kids will be going back, I feel this is a half-assed attempt to prove to parents that the district can handle their response to COVID. Honestly, it's too little too late, nothing but frustration and headache having to deal with the administration.   

In August, the district sent out emails about registration. The emails were vague at best, a basic outline of how to register your child. What was truly disappointing? No one from the district called us to ask us about our plans or walk us through registration or answer our questions. 

The whole year went like this. A vague notion of change, implemented in a month's time - until now, when the kids are going back to school in April and no one has any idea what's happening because the school district doesn't know itself what's actually going on. The district tells parents to call the schools, but the teachers and staff are just as in the dark as we are. 

It's no wonder the district lost 500 kids to Beloit-Turner and will lose about 700 to the Lincoln Academy when it opens in the fall. I've talked to parents who have sent their kids to OLA, a private school, because they felt the School District of Beloit wasn't doing enough, wasn't communicating enough to their parents. 

We aren't stuck. We are actually within the boundaries of the Beloit-Turner District. We've chosen not to send our kids there because of the Dual Language program. Even that has lost a lot of its luster during distance learning. So, what do we do? Do we suck it up and finish the rest of the school year? Do we contact the district and inform them of the awful job they are doing? Do we hang in there and hope it gets better? 

However it is done, there's only a few months left. Whatever the Beloit School District has planned for next year, I'm fairly confident it won't be any better.  

Terraria has been my family's go-to game for a while. While it's natural to assume that two little boys would absolutely love this game, my sisters and their kids love it as well. We've celebrated birthdays, we've hunted bosses, we've built gem farms and moss farms together. It's been a lifesaver over this tumultuous year, especially for Balin. He's such a social creature. Being away from his friends and teachers at school has been hard for him. 

It's funny how quickly we've latched onto this game. I remember when the boys came home from gymnastics. Their friend Asher had told them about Terraria. "It's like a 2D Minecraft!" they exclaimed. 

I, however, was unimpressed. I hate Minecraft with a passion. I hate the mindlessness of it and the sheer laziness of the developers (No quests? No bosses? No worthwhile NPCs?). I hate feeling inadequate when I play. I hate the lack of progression (Again, no quests? No bosses? No worthwhile NPCs?). Most of all, I passionately hate Creepers with their horrible hissing and explosive bodies. They have ruined many houses.

But, to please my boys, I (begrudgingly) played Terraria. And I was pleasantly surprised. The game exceeded my expectations. It was fun to play. Although there aren't any quests, there was enough of a progression to keep me entertained. So far, we've netted over 1000 hours of play and we're still going strong.

When I find a game I like, I'll often check out similar games. Why not make a good thing even better?

Alas, apparently you can have too much of a good thing. 

Starbound popped up during my search. I was interested. The boys were excited - hooray! A new computer game! We bought it and took it for a test run. 

I hated it. 

The boys love the game. They want me to love it. And because they love it so much, I really, really want to love it, too. After all, the game shares many elements with Terraria: fun weapons and items, building and constructing, plot progression, interesting NPCs, and customizable characters. I should love it, shouldn't I? 

I couldn't get into it. The game has too many of the same problems as Minecraft. It's impossible to enjoy a game I feel so terrible at.  

Starbound has quests, but I have yet to not fail an actual quest. I attempted to help an Apex get from point A to point B. Along the way, I accidentally singed her fur with my flamethrower when I was being attacked by hostile creatures. She started shooting at me. Then I ran away and I think she was mauled. Fail. Then I tried to help out a Floran. Her sparing partner had been kidnapped by bad guys. I rescued her partner, but he ran behind her and now I can't talk to her. Fail. Balin told me he's never completed a quest either and that's just how the game works. Bullshit, child. That's bullshit.  

The enemies in Starbound are insanely tough. They knock me on my ass and 1/4th of my health is instantly gone. I tap them with my energy stick and they lose five HP out of a million. Then they chase me into pits I can't get out of and fall on me for the fun of it. Oh, man, was I thrilled to get a flamethrower. It's leveled the playing field, but not by nearly enough.

There are a lot of things in this game that scream lazy developers to me. The most glaring? Different species don't have unique qualities. Different species don't like or dislike other species. Why bother having different species if you aren't going to flesh them out a little? 

Argh!

The boys insisted I keep with it because...fossils! You can collect small, medium, or large fossils by solving a puzzle! You could create a massive museum displaying all of said creatures! It sounds like so much fun. So the boys and I went fossil hunting. I found a fossil. I dug it up. And it was enjoyable. But honestly, even this little activity isn't enough to keep me interested. Fossils are so hard to get. I went to three different planets and found nothing but more animals that wanted to crush my delicate robotic body. Discouraging, to say the least. 

Needless to say, I can't play Starbound for hours on end like I can Terraria. As much as I want to like this game, it's not going to happen. But for my boys, I'll try again. I'll give it another shot. 

My dad has been retired for about 15 years. He woke up one day and decided he was done with the daily grind. He put more effort into his stamp collection and his book business while waiting for my mom to retire. She eventually did, just a few years ago; however, she's still a substitute for the Anchorage School District. The people there love her. She loves her work. She can't stay away. It's like she hasn't actually retired. 

Dad, I feel, was hoping Mom would want to leave after she stopped working. He's been done in Alaska for years and has been ready for (literal) greener pastures. I don't think he'd be adverse to returning to enjoy Alaskan summers (which are beautiful), but he no longer wanted to experience the long, dark winters. 

He's waited patiently, but now it's become evident that Mom does not want to leave. She's been in Alaska for over 40 years now. Leaving would be scary. Contrary to Dad, Mom has never liked change. I remember her crying when we left Barrow. I remember her frantic "Are you okay???" when I traveled to Israel. I remember her reluctance to retire. I know she harbors deep fears about starting over.

What she chooses not to focus on are all of the good things about retirement. She could be closer to her sisters. She could go on weekend road trips. She could be a snowbird and go visit her grandchildren in the summers while enjoying some mild Lower 48 winters. This week is supposed to be in the 50's. I don't miss the typical Alaskan 30's at this time of year. 

Robinson's working away now so that he can retire at 55. Words can't express how grateful I am for his careful planning. The kids will be grown. We'll be able to travel. We'd downsize to a much smaller place in a city we love. We could visit our families. It's a nice vision of the future. 

Don't we all want those lovely dreams when we're old? I curse my mom a little bit for forcing my dad into a situation he so desperately wants out of. 

I read an article yesterday which I've spent most of today processing. The US population, apparently, is declining and the tone was very much doom and gloom. 

Millennials aren't having kids! They need to have kids! WHY ARE THEY NOT HAVING KIDS???

Please. Calm the fuck down. 

First of all, good. The population should be going down. There's way too many of us as it is and it is tearing the planet (and our society) apart. Why are people having more kids when so many parents can't take care of the kids they already have? It's irresponsible. If you aren't going to take care of your kids, then don't have them. For the love of all things holy, JUST DON'T. 

Secondly, why would anyone want to spend $250,000 on raising a child when they have (college) debt and work a minimum wage job? You can barely take care of you. Why add to the misery?

Third, there is an expectation from everyone around you to have kids, but I'm giving you permission to not have kids, okay? No one says you have to do things exactly like your parents or grandparents. If you enjoy your freedom, have your freedom. Travel. Live your life the way you want to, not the way someone says you should. Guess what? They'll deal. 

And finally, I've had lots of people tell me I need to have more kids because I'm such an amazing parent. I always tell them if I had more than two kids I'd go crazy. Then I laugh and they laugh and because we're laughing, it's just silly nonsense. Honestly, deep down, I know I cannot handle more than two kids. I would lose my shit constantly. In fact, someday, when my kids are wrestling with how many kids they want (or don't want) to have, I'll tell them the truth. That decision is yours. Not an economist's. Not the cashier at the grocery store. Not mine. 

It's up to you to do what's right for you. Kids don't ever have to play a role in that decision.

A few days ago, I texted Dad a silly question, not really expecting an answer. After all, Dad had never been a small talk kind of person. He speaks plainly, but he doesn't speak about trivial matters. I thought it might be fun to get bits of his personal history and background.

So I asked: What were your favorite games growing up? 

A couple hours later, Dad texted back: Monopoly, chess. Sheepshead. 

The next day, I asked: What were your favorite toys when you were a kid and why?

Teddy bears. I don't know why. I'm thinking of one more. Lincoln logs. I liked building things. 

And today, there was this gem; simple, but traditional: What's your favorite color?

Blue.

Tomorrow there will be another text. I don't what it will say exactly - just another question and another answer which will provide another glimmer into my dad's life. These questions aren't much, but I hope someday they'll lead to bigger ones. Perhaps - if his treatment progresses - the questions will become that interview I've always wanted to do. But right now, I'll have to settle for these little Questions of the Day. 

It's not easy getting back into the thick of things. I'm not even really back, not technically. I have to quarantine for at least 10 days, which means no trips to the store, no running errands, and no taking my kids to and from their activities. 

So, I'm back. At least in the physical sense. 

Today, I deep cleaned the kitchen, as I always do on Wednesdays. I took a walk with Robinson. I caught up on a few emails. I built a moss farm in Terraria. I finished Hillbilly Elegy. It wasn't what I expected. I started to plan out the next Star Wars RPG for the kiddos. Josh called me, saying he hadn't talked to me in a while. That was a welcome surprise. I called my mom to remind her to put the custard in the freezer so that I could use it up on my next visit. Dad answered instead and rushed me off the phone. It's 5:45 there. Time for The Closer. 

Yes, things are back to normal, or as normal as they can be.

I'm still worried, of course, but I'm back. 

And life goes on. 

It's natural to leave a few activities undone when you travel home. After all, there's a priority list - taxes, for example, in this last visit - in which certain things will always take precedence. 

We operated under the assumption that Dad would be getting his second treatment Monday and so I left, the outlook good. Then came the news: his white blood cell count was too low to receive his second treatment. It would have to wait until next week. 

Now I doubt my decision. Should I have stayed? Would it have mattered if I had? Would my being there offer another solution? The rhetorical questions and non-answers are absolute hell. There's nothing I can do to fix anything. I have no control over this situation. It all rests on Dad's shoulders. 

Am I selfish to want my father around for a few more years? What if he's ready to go? How do I make peace with his decision, horrible as it may be?

There are so many things I have yet to do with him. My sisters and I were going to interview him. That didn't happen, even though we wanted it to be a priority. Another thing undone. There are the unplanned trips to Germany, to the birthplace of most of my ancestors. Undone. And there are the boxes upon boxes of books and stamps filling every available square foot of my dad's house, waiting to be processed, or posted, or sold. All undone. 

We only have so much time to finish everything we want to, a limited amount of time to express our joys and live our passions. There's so much my dad hasn't seen yet and to see him back away without a fight is upsetting. Maybe there's a wisdom here I don't see yet. After all, I'm still (reasonably) young and want so much out of the next forty years. Dad's nearing the end. Would another ten years really make a difference?

I suppose it would for the rest of us. We don't want things with him to end. We don't want his life to end undone and unfinished. We want a chance for him to complete what he starts in a way where nothing is left behind. 

In the end, though, does it matter? Does any of it really matter?