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I spent the weekend in my hometown of Livermore California so I could attend my Grandma’s funeral. I have thoughts about that experience that I’d like to write, but I have been too busy to find the words for them. All last week was about triaging my tasks. I took care of the critical things, canceled some appointments, and let many things slide while I attempted to make space for me to leave and grieve. Unfortunately the world did not pause out of respect for my emotional event.

We had a DNS issue with the main schlock site that Howard and I had to figure out via phone call. This caused many many people to email us, and buried the schlock mailbox. I’ve still got to get in there and find out what emails I have to answer and which I can just file. There are business critical emails mixed in there, people waiting for answers since the middle of last week. I believe that I’ve caught the truly urgent ones, but I won’t know for certain until I clear the mailbox.

Last Friday was the final day of term one for the schools. This means it was the day that grades were finalized. The end of a term always means a flurry of communication and last minute assignments. This is particularly true when a child’s grades are low, as Patch’s have been. His grades reflect the panic attacks and general malaise that he’s been experiencing since school started. Several of his teachers reached out to me with willingness to help bring his grades up before that Friday deadline arrived. I finally answered them late Monday night after I arrived back home. There have been a multitude of emails since then as we hammer out plans for how to proceed.

Yes Patch has real anxiety and panic attacks, but at least half of what we’re seeing is him using those to get out of work that he doesn’t like. Much credit goes to Howard who had a really unpleasant school morning while I was gone. Howard’s approach differed from mine in ways that showed Patch has more control over his panic attacks than he’d been leading us to believe. That unpleasant morning gave me a framework around which I’m building a new plan. So I have to step up my parenting game. I have to pay more attention and be more strict about play time and homework time. I have to make sure there are consequences at home if he’s failing to try at school. All of this has an ongoing impact on my daily schedule during a period when I’d really like to double down and clear away accumulated work things.

Naturally last week was also when I finally got the phone call from the UofU psych clinic to schedule an evaluation. I’d originally put us on that waiting list last January when I was seeking guidance for Link. At this point I feel like Link has all the diagnosis he needs. Fortunately they were happy to switch the appointment over to Patch, for whom I DO need diagnosis. The first appointment for that will happen tomorrow and full assessment next week. At the same time I’ve been communicating with Patch’s school counselor to put in place a 504 plan for him at school. We’ve made some adjustments to his schedule for term 2, and have plans for the school psychologist to observe Patch in the classroom. It is all pretty complicated, but necessary at this time. I need additional opinions and observations to inform my plan for how to proceed.

I’ve also spent time talking with Patch himself. In the wake of the unpleasant school morning, he is much more willing to admit that he’s been using panic as a crutch. He’s on board with the new structure we intend and the diagnostics we plan to do. His head is full of swirling thoughts and emotions. We’ve agreed to have a talking time each day during which he speaks whatever comes to mind and we find out what is in there. Of course what Patch is willing to do when he is calm is different than what happens when he’s under stress. I hope that he continues to work with us and tries to be a partner in quelling anxiety rather than diving into it as a shield against things he wants to avoid.

And then there are the more usual parenting tasks. Gleek needed to go swimming on the day I came back because her mermaid tail (which she saved money all summer to buy) arrived the day that I left. Patch needed to be taken to the archery range to practice because I’m glad for him to be doing an activity that isn’t attached to an electronic screen. Link needed an adjustment to his schedule for term 2, so I had to contact his school counselor. I went to the bank to deposit some money in Kiki’s account so she has funds to pay for an upcoming trip. I also checked in with Kiki via phone to see if she’s doing better. She seems to be. The medicine is making depression back off. And then there is the ever-present guilt that I should be enforcing better eating habits on my kids as they forage the kitchen.

Later today I plan to call my parents and check in on them. I expect this week to be harder on them than last week was. Last week they had a huge list of overwhelming chores related to Grandma’s funeral. This week everyone has gone home and they are left with daily, hourly reminders of the fact that Grandma no longer needs their regular care. This is a huge shift in their patterns of living. They’ve been tending Grandma extensively for the last decade. My daily life is not impacted by her absence, and I can’t let that make me forget that theirs is.

And then there are the business tasks. I spent my work hours yesterday doing the accounting. I had two week’s worth to do since I didn’t have brain for it last week. I also had to prep for the tax appointment I have scheduled tomorrow. I’ll be meeting with our accountant and discussing the impact of Kickstarter funds carried across the end of the calendar year. I’ve got a couple of contracts to read and sign, one for book printing, another for renewing the lease on our warehouse space. I’m also mid negotiations for hiring an editor for the Planet Mercenary project. We’ve found someone with the expertise we need, now we just have to hammer out schedule and work methods. There are packages to ship, writing to do, and layout work that is necessary.

Next week I travel again. We have tickets and reservations for me to attend the World Fantasy Convention in Saratoga Springs, New York. There is part of me that is very tired and willing to consider cancelling that trip. There are lots of solid reasons for sending me, but I’m still scrambling to catch up after my trip last weekend.

For now, it is time for me to go do some work and save the rest of the thinking for later.

Today I…

Got out of bed before the sun was up and discovered one of my kids was awake before me.

Researched the causes of night terrors.

Hammered away at layout and felt excited for how some of the pages are shaping up. I ran out of brain before I ran out of enthusiasm.

Answered some email.

Made an appointment with a podiatrist.

Made an appointment for a psychiatrist check up.

Called to excuse a school absence.

Researched transitional programs for kids with autism who are struggling with becoming independent adults.

Left a message for a parent advocate who I’m told has inside information on resources available to parents of special needs kids.

Took my son to his first appointment with a tutor.

Met my two junior high kids as they came in the door and double checked to see what sort of day they’d had.

Looked at the front lawn and remembered (again) that I keep forgetting to make one of the kids mow it.

Did some brainstorming on a plot problem in my novel.

Began wrapping my head around the structure I’ll need as a framework for the picture book story I want to tell.

Took a quick nap with a purring kitty.

Sent emails to collaborators and potential editors on the Planet Mercenary project.

Answered the phone to discover that my son’s Eagle Scout certificate has come through.

Picked up the mail from the mailbox.

When I said that my brain was coming back up to speed. This is what I meant. Until I started listing things I hadn’t really been aware of how many things I’d accomplished today, nor how scattered they all are across my various life roles. I shall not list all the things I would have liked to do, but didn’t get done. That list is even longer. But if I can just keep doing the things, then bit by bit all the big projects will get done.

This week my brain woke up. Suddenly it is composing blog posts while I’m doing other things. Or planning a short story collection. Or thinking up picture books. Or all of those simultaneously. I’m facing huge projects with excitement rather than a sense that I have to push through inertia just to keep moving. I don’t know how long it has been since my brain was bubbling over with thoughts like this, but I suspect it was more than a year ago. I’ve missed it. Project energy combined with the emptiness of my calendar for the next few weeks bodes well for getting lots of work done. That’s good, because I have a lot of work I need to do, particularly for Planet Mercenary.

When I pick up a book in the middle after I’ve not read in a while, there is always an orientation period where I have to read and remember where I was in the story, who is talking, what is the plot driving the characters forward. Today has been like that. I have been re-settling myself back into my house and my parenting roles. I sort through the fridge to see how the contents have changed while I was gone. I run loads of laundry and I run errands. I contact teachers of my two sons, both of whom stayed home from school while I was gone. One by one I pick up the tasks that I put down before I left. They feel lighter than they did before. The rest was good.

I still have tasks to pick up. Most notable are the business tasks. There is accounting and shipping to do tomorrow. Then I have to dive into layout work on Planet Mercenary. Howard and Alan need to see their words in context so that they know the words are working the way they need to. The house could use vacuuming and I really need to finish off the pin sorting project that has been living in our family room for a month. The flower beds need to be weeded and planted so that I will have a fresh crop of flowers for future me to enjoy. There are grapes to pick and turn into juice.

And I want to take time to draft the pair of picture books which showed up in my head and are wanting attention. Then there are the edits on House in the Hollow.

It feels very nice to have my head buzzing with things I want to do instead of just trudging from chore to chore.

This morning I had a conversation with a friend who was having to decide between a professional event and helping a relative post-surgery. She knew I’d understand because I’m leaving on Saturday and I’ll leave behind three kids who all have school schedules and mental health issues. I’ll leave them in the care of a responsible adult. They will be fine, but it is entirely possible that me being gone will trigger anxiety and panic episodes. And then they’ll have to deal with that. I may come home to emotional clean up. The responsible adult who is coming to watch my kids had to arrange for eldercare for her mother-in-law while she would be gone. None of these things had to land on top of each other. There were lots of other weeks available. But my experience is that my kids are most likely to melt down when I have somewhere I’m supposed to be.

Life is messy. All the things interfere with all the other things. I wish they wouldn’t, but if I put “non essential” things on hold until there is a clear space for them, then I’d never get to them at all. And some of those non essential things are actually pretty critical. It is true that even if it doesn’t rain, you can draw water from the well. Yet if the rain is gone long enough, the aquifer empties and the well goes dry.

So, barring death or dire circumstances, I am going on a trip. On the far side of it we will all have had experiences that are new and maybe we’ll all have grown. Even if there are emotions to untangle when I return, taking the trip is the right choice this time.

One week from today I’ll be on a ship en route to the Caribbean. I’ve never been on a cruise ship before, nor have I been to that part of the world. This is both exciting and anxiety inducing. I’ve watched as the final schedule for the writing and workshop portion of this event comes together. It is going to be an amazing trip, but I am definitely going to come home tired. I will have hiked in new places and spent hours working to make sure that the attendees and their families are happy with their trips. I’ll have almost no access to the internet while I’m gone, but I may write up blog posts to put online when I get back. Or I might spend my writing time on fiction. I don’t know what thoughts this trip will unfold in my head.

Between now and my departure I have much work to do in order to get my house, my business, and my kids ready for me to be gone. I’ve arranged to import a responsible adult, but I have instructions to write so the adult will know who needs to go where and when. I also have to pack. Oh, and there is also my son’s Eagle Scout board of review and two Parent Teacher conference days along with all the regular things. It is going to be a busy couple of weeks.

As of tomorrow morning half of my children are legally adults. That is just the capstone of a surprisingly eventful week which included a couple of emotional hurdles, school meetings, the news that it is possible for Link to graduate with his class (a thing I’d thought was a lost cause, which now I have to decide whether we should stretch for it. Letting it go had reduced stress), a new diagnosis for one of my kids, planning for an 18th birthday, having to decide to shift a school schedule, a couple of kids missing school because of meltdowns, another kid coming down with a cold, a phone call about a problem with Link’s Eagle Scout paperwork that caused me (needless) anxiety and my 95 year old grandmother being in the hospital again.

At one point during the week I called my sister and said “I need help processing.” She immediately invited me over and we sat for a couple of hours while I spoke all the random things in my head. I’m still processing. Mostly I’ve spent this weekend making sure Link’s birthday went well because I really messed up Kiki’s 18th birthday and Link’s last two birthdays were seriously impacted by Salt Lake Comic Con. We have one more day before we declare the birthday complete, but so far all the things have gone well.

I only have two weeks before I depart for the Out of Excuses Retreat. My big goal between now and then is to put things into a stable configuration so the kids can just do school while I’m gone. There are a lot of To Dos on my list.

It is always the little things that surprise me as my kids are growing up. Or maybe they are big things, but the key is the surprise. In stories these are the surprising yet inevitable plot moments where the audience first gasps and then says “of course, how could it be any other way?” This time it was an email.

“Link needs to register for selective services before his eighteenth birthday.”

I blinked at the email, in a sort of shocked pause. My boy is too young to have to register for the draft. Except he isn’t. Not anymore. It is only about two weeks until he is a legal adult and many of the rules change. One of them is filling out a form that registers him as a young male eligible for the draft should our country have a major military conflict and need more soldiers than it currently has enlisted.

No one has been conscripted or drafted into the United States Military since 1973, the year I was born. There hasn’t been a draft in my lifetime. The odds that my son will be called upon to fight my country’s battles are negligible. Our country has enough strong and good volunteers who fill those roles. But staring at that email, I had a moment of fear. For a moment war loomed and I felt connected to generations of mothers before me who sent off their sons, and to mothers now, who still do because their sons and daughters volunteer. My son is not a warrior. He doesn’t even like to play violent or bloody video games. And if he struggled and nearly broke when faced with the challenges of high school, I shudder to think what boot camp would do to him. I spent a long moment picturing what going to battle could do to him physically and mentally.

After a moment, the shadow of fear passed. I filled out the form to register him. This is one of the responsibilities of being a citizen, along with jury duty, and paying taxes. Yet when I hope and pray for peace in the world, there is just a slight bit more fervor in my prayers. I know that my family and I are very fortunate in the peaceful existence we’ve lived. It is good for me to face the fact that not everyone gets to choose a peaceful life.

It was the final day of the annual Perseid meteor shower. If I’d wanted the full display I should have gone out at 1am that morning. Instead I found myself laying on my back staring at the sky while the clock ticked over into the next day. Three of my kids and I were spending the night at a cabin in a state park. We were far away from city lights. The night was clear. All we needed was for the Perseids to cooperate and trail a few lingering meteors across the sky.

I lay there with my children, waiting. School would start for them in only a few days. I didn’t know how that would go. We were waiting for that too. Light streaked across the sky and I gasped, just a small, involuntary intake of breath at the sudden appearance and disappearance of light. It had been years since I’d seen a shooting star. I sent a quick prayer after it, almost like a wish.

Please let us grow this year instead of shrink. Please let us have happiness instead of hurt. Please, I don’t know what we need for this year, please help us figure it out.

More lights dashed across the sky. Some faint. Some bright. There weren’t many. Nothing like the display that people had described from the night before. I didn’t wish on them all, but each of them stole my breath for just a moment.

I wasn’t alone with the stars. My children lay with me, sometimes silent, sometimes cracking jokes with their cousins, always exclaiming out loud when lights streaked across the sky. I was glad to have them there with me, watching the lights and the darkness.

Shooting stars did not bring us any answers, just a beautiful moment to treasure.

I wandered through the house and it was strange and quiet. All four of my kids were off at their schools. Howard away at a convention. I paused to think when I last had the house to myself for five hours in a row. I don’t know when it was. Probably before Howard started working from home instead of trekking to Dragon’s Keep to do his drawing. That was eighteen months ago. Last December was when Link started being at home during school hours and my days were regularly interrupted by urgent meetings, surprise school pick ups, emotional crises, and home schooling. This morning they all left cheerfully. And they came home calmly. In between I had hours. I just wandered around in those hours rather than settling to a focused task. Come Monday I’ll try to build a work schedule around having those hours. It is time to proceed as if all will be well.