I’ve mostly given up on the news. I’ll watch the local broadcast for the weather and the 1-800 Kars for Kids song and then give myself 30 seconds to glance the headlines to make sure the world isn’t ending (degrees of relativity with that one) and that’s it. Anything else and I start to spiral into a foul mood.
But it has raised an interesting question as a Dad: How much should we shelter our kids from the scariness of the world? How much should we protect them from knowing about the day-to-day events of the world that they can’t do anything about? Is it selfish and self-centered to let them be kids just a little longer?
Isn’t that part of the job description as parents? To shoulder the stress they have no business dealing with at this age.
Certainly they know the big picture. They know why we are wearing masks and staying home. We’ve talked about some of the social issues. They aren’t in a complete bubble and I think they know how fortunate and lucky they are.
But they are still kids. They shouldn’t have to carry this equally. That’s on us.
See what happens when you watch too much news….
We started the day wondering why none of the Disney show parents have any self-respect.
Then I went on a run where, even at 6:30 in the morning, by mile 5 my shoes were so saturated I was leaving wet footprints as I ran down the road. No one needs to see photos of that.
After picking a large bag of blueberries earlier in the week, we finished off the harvest by making muffins for National Blueberry Muffin Day.
Blueberry picking with kids goes a lot faster when you have to wear a mask and can’t sample every other one.
If you remember the great basement debate (to clean or not to clean regularly), well, the quarantine has settled that debate. Michelle and I have mostly written off that area of house unless it threatens to become a fire hazard.
I know how much some of you enjoy tales from the transfer station. Here’s a nice wide-angle shot of the main trash site. Vivaldi’s Orlando was today’s soundtrack. Someone likes Baroque opera.
Surprise, adults-only, driveway birthday gathering later in the day meant we needed to stock up. Safe social opportunities are to be cherished these days.
Snagged a last minute pool reservation and it was so hot that the kids didn’t even need to badger me to get in.
The only time we allow Ally to have Kool-Aid is when there is a large body of water or large open space nearby. She gets very, very hyper. Oh Yeah!
Post-pool, Kool-Aid crash. I think we managed that pretty well.
We’ve reached the age where Cecilia can now do Michelle’s hair and it’s not just knots and a tuft sticking out sideways.
We aren’t able to take our PEI vacation this year but we can go in culinary spirit (even if the mussels are from Chile).
Ally’s been having trouble waking up in the middle of the night with thoughts of robbers and murderers and other anxieties creeping about in the house (apparently not usual around this age) but after three successful nights in a row of staying in bed, she earned a sundae bar and went to town. [random note: it’s sundae, not sunday to appease religious leaders]
We were able to leave the girls at home and attend the driveway birthday surprise. Better than the beer and cupcakes was just the reminder that there were other families going through all the same stuff. Our problems might center around glitter and which Hamilton song to play next. Theirs center around Nerf guns and which Hamilton song to play next.
A problem shared is a problem halved. I can bear that.