The Great Shutdown of 2020

It looks like I started writing this post a long time ago, then left it alone. Given how much I regret not having a record of things from my past (such as Tyrien's early words and when and how I stopped crating Vader), I'm revisiting this now.

We as a nation watched as the coronavirus that causes COVID19 spread across the globe. At first, thoughts ran along the lines of, "That sucks for them" when it was located in one location on the other side of the planet. We were told this was an illness for the elderly to be concerned with, not the rest of us. Then it was the elderly and people with chronic health conditions. Then it was young people, too. Then there became the issue of asymptomatic carriers. And then the news story of the choir in Washington that chose to meet to sing, where 60 people sat spaced every other chair from each other, none feeling sick, and sang their hearts out, and within two weeks, 45 were sick, three were hospitalized, and two died.

While COVID 19 was ramping up, Tyrien caught stomach flu. We bleached everything we could in our house. A few days later, I got a call from Tyler's school, that kids there were getting stomach flu and he was looking and feeling sick. I picked him up, got him home where he perked up, then while I was out running errands, he succumbed. Rebleached. The next day, I came down with it too, despite my best efforts to avoid it. We spent that Saturday bleaching everything we could in our house. Then Sunday night, I got a scary email from the dean of the College of Medicine advising employees to work from home, and no more than 4 people were allowed to meet at any time, and my boss who never calls on nights or weekends was calling me on a Sunday night to make sure I'd seen that email.

I recovered from stomach flu just in time to walk into a pandemic. 

Sunday night I texted the two employees most at risk, telling them to stay home. Monday morning, I arrived at work and told employees to keep the door locked. I put a sign on the door that we would be closed until 8:30am. I felt passionate that we needed to stay open, but checked in with my team. Most were equally passionate. One was concerned for his safety. We quickly laid out a mitigation plan for continuing operations.  I then met with the concerned employee and reviewed his options with him. I remember saying, "You can go home if you want. But we have NO IDEA how long this might last." He decided to keep working. 

People we serve ranged in emotions from kindness and appreciation to irritability, even lashing out at us. One person yelled at me, "YOU did this! YOU changed everything!" Before I could stop myself, I had blurted back, "The whole world changed! We are doing our best to try to stay open!" 

Tyler was on spring break that week. He was supposed to spend the week at Grandma A's house. But Sunday night, when I read that memo from the dean, I had a sinking feeling in my heart, and called her to cancel. Three women in a house together, all at risk for severe infection. One boy who had just come from a busy, bustling school, with lots of kids whose parents travel back and forth from China, which at that time was the epicenter of the outbreak. The same boy who had just been on the mat in jujitsu class, rolling around with other kids, exchanging breath and sweat. It broke his heart, it was unfair to him and to her, but he needed to stay home. 

My niece had texted me at some point, saying that her mom had suggested she come to Tucson if her camp shut down or things got too weird. For some reason, that Thursday, after reading the news, I felt the urge to call her. She answered the phone in tears, having just been told that her camp was shutting down and she needed to leave. I encouraged her to come to Tucson right away, concerned that the border between California and Arizona would close. That evening, I learned that Tyrien's daycare had shut down. We rearranged our house so that our niece could have the west side of the house to herself, anticipating that she would quarantine herself for the first 14 days. Within the first hour of her arrival, she had unpacked, even arranging her potted plants around the room. And then she stationed herself on the chaise lounge portion of our sectional sofa in the living room. Her personal belongings rested on the coffee table. Where I had envisioned a 22 year old wanting her privacy, it was clear what she really wanted was to be surrounded by family. I kept catching the boys creeping closer and closer to her on the chaise. Well, I'm the most likely spreader of the virus in our house, so I continued to keep my distance from her. On nights of insomnia, instead of sleeping in my usual spot on the chaise, I stayed on the other side of the couch, wanting to not contaminate her favorite spot. At least that was something I could do. She wanted to run together. I would run next to her, but at a distance. Yet somehow, she'd always end up closer to me.

Tyson and Tyrien, both at higher risk. How do you weigh whether to quarantine yourself or give in to family members' need for affection? Epigenetics research shows us that physical affection is vital for well-being. Tyrien and Tyler both gravitated toward me, snuggling with me on the couch in the early morning. I found myself asking questions which were too soon to answer. Which is more dangerous, the virus itself, or withdrawing physical affection? Which is more dangerous, aysmptomatic spread when speaking, or wearing a cloth mask and messing with it? At first, it felt like I couldn't get enough oxygen while wearing a mask -  I can run 5 miles, no problem, but climbing the stairs while wearing a cloth mask left me out of breath. My body was telling me, "I need more oxygen." I tried to remind myself that if waterboarding tricks the body into thinking it's drowning, the cloth mask was just tricking me into thinking I was suffocating.

Which is more dangerous, not exercising, and letting our lung capacity diminish before we get sick, or running 5 miles and risking catching the virus from someone else's cross stream of breath?

This idea that the air we exhale can potentially kill someone else sounds like something out of a sci-fi movie. The first few months, it made me feel toxic. At first, I felt clean - we implemented such stringent measures at work - temperature checks twice a day, sanitizers at the entry and outside of the classrooms, even outside of the bathroom - wash your hands for 25 seconds in the bathroom, dry them, walk out of the bathroom, and sanitize. We took our masks off in our individual offices to give us breathing room. We sprayed the hot spots of the building with powerful disinfectants each day. At first we felt clean. But as the days marched on and began to blur together, our risk of making mistakes rose. And those mistakes can be fatal for someone else. As time went on, we learned it might even be fatal for us.

There was the time I tried wearing gloves along with my mask to the grocery store. The whole time in the store seemed fine. Then I got in the checkout line, and while waiting, bored, waiting, waiting, my nose itched and I scratched it. Every surface I had touched in the store was now on my nose. Every person who had touched every piece of fruit, every onion, every bottle of soda, was now on my face. I felt dirty and incompetent. No more gloves in the store for me. From now on, it's a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer in my pocked, and resolving to stay hypervigilant to avoid touching my face, unless it is with the inside of my shirt.

When I got home from work or the store, I wiped down surfaces in my car with a wipe before I'd get out. I'd lock the car with the wipe. I'd get the mail with a wipe. I'd slide my shoes off outside and leave them on the porch. And I wiped off the door knob as I entered the home. Wipe goes in the trash. Bag on the floor. Snapping, "I'm not huggable yet!" to the kids. Even the dog learned not to approach me upon arrival anymore. I'd wash my hands for 30 seconds, go to my room, remove my clothing, and wash my hands again before putting on new clothing. Then return to the living room and give hugs. Hoping I'm not poisoning my children. I hug my husband with my face turned away from him. We sleep head to toe, or facing away from each other. If he gets sick, I will move out of our room, and bring meals to his room. If I get sick, what then? The easiest thing will be for him to move out of our room, but let's be honest, he probably won't be willing to do that. Will I sleep on the patio outside our room? Mosquitos are out and it will be hot soon. In the storage room next to the laundry room? That means sharing a bathroom with Payton. In the office, where all the kids' stuff is, and use their bathroom and make them use mine? Or take over the kids' room, and make them share a room with Tyson, in the hopes that none of them will get it?

At the start, I drank elderberry extract twice a day, in a large glass of water. It's supposed to help prevent viral replication. If I get symptoms, I'm supposed to stop drinking it. I took turmeric, to reduce any inflammation in the lungs. It was allergy season, and nose spray isn't enough for me. Taking allegra each day. Had to restart flaxseed oil to try to help the skin on my hands maintain a barrier with all this excessive handwashing and sanitizing. It's not enough. I have to add clobetasol twice a day and lotion every chance I get, even before showering, just trying to keep the skin on my hands and wrists in tact.
I ate apples, onions, fruits, vegetables trying to get as many nutrients as I can. I didn't touch a drop of alcohol in all this time. Other people in my house see beer and spirits as relaxing. I saw it as poison now.

All this, and yet my exposure is far less than other healthcare workers. I'm working in a well clinic, not the sick clinic. I'm not spending hours caring for people suffering from this virus. If someone shows symptoms, we send them home. It's that asymptomatic spread that's so stressful to me. It's worrying that my husband and kids and niece might get sick enough to need the hospital, when the hospital is now such a dangerous place to be, and it would feel like it's my fault. My husband still goes to work, he still stops off at a store on the way home. My niece went inside a pharmacy to pick up medicine she needed. "Why didn't you go through the drive thru?" "I've never done that before." Normally I would resent the person who went through the drive thru. Unless you have a sleeping baby or toddler in the back of the car, you need to turn off your car and walk inside the store. But not during a pandemic. During a pandemic, you go through the freaking drive thru.

We celebrated Tyler's birthday during the pandemic. He was devastated to learn that I never sent out invitations to his party. He wanted a Plants versus Zombies party. I remember finding DIY invitations. I had filled them out. I was about to take them to get printed. We had planned the cake and activities and decorations. Instead, we just had a family dinner - he of course chose pizza. We had cake. He opened gifts from each of his grandmas while on the phone with them. How devastating that Grandma A couldn't join. I took video of him, the morning of his birthday, asking him to record his thoughts and feelings about the pandemic. In his video, he said he hated staying home, he would rather go to school.

Tyrien was relentlessly antagonizing Kylo. Nothing horribly cruel, it just has to be frustrating over time. Deliberately bumping him, driving his cars into him, crowding his face while giving him hugs. Kylo used to have separation anxiety. Now I wonder if he just wants us all to leave, so he can finally have some peace. People ask, "Why does Tyrien keep tormenting him?" Because he doesn't have Brody or Jackson to torment. For some reason, little kids seem to enjoy conflict. I can't relate. But up until about September, he was still plotting his arguments with them. He argued with them in his imaginative play. He planned imaginary play dates and anticipated the misdeeds they would do, and selected punishments for them, telling me, "Mom, when Brody comes over, he's going to wreck my train track, and you're going to have to say, "Brody, go to timeout. Don't touch Tyrien's track anymore! No more trains for you!" Is it any wonder he was deliberately annoying the dog he loves so much? He lost so much social interaction, intellectual and emotional stimulation. And his ways of annoying the dog include physical contact. He is desperate for physical affection, and I can't give him enough.

Payton left as Tyler's school year ended. I missed my newfound running partner, but overall was relieved - I got my quarantine space back. Food, water, and electricity costs dropped, though still much higher than before. We were spending twice as much on supplies as before. I bought toilet paper every time it was available, because it hadn't been available for so long, until I realized I'd inadvertently collected over 100 rolls. Once toilet paper was back in stock, meat became much harder to come by. And forget about buying Clorox wipes or hand sanitizer that didn't stink like whiskey. How funny, I'd never used Clorox wipes until 2015, when our house was on the market, and now suddenly, they seemed to be a necessity I couldn't access. We couldn't buy bleach either. The survivalist in me kicked in and I found a pool supply store, I bought calcium hypochlorite in case we ever ran out of bleach. The sales person tried to help me, as I debated between chemicals. When I asked questions, she asked what I was planning to use the chemical for. I stated, "A cleaning issue." She looked disturbed and became abruptly less helpful. It wasn't until after I left that I realized she was probably reflecting on police crime dramas and thinking I'd committed a horrible crime. I just didn't want to inadvertently create a run on HTH. I let my staff know I had the supply in my office, and would issue it if the time came.

Going to the grocery store used to be something I hated to do and avoided as much as possible. Since I was at the most risk of exposure at work anyway, and was the least likely in our family to have severe complications, I became the sole shopper for the family. Grocery shopping became an adventure - waiting in line before it opened, wondering which supplies might be available. An employee announcing to the customers waiting in line, "We DID get a shipment of toilet paper last night. You'll be going home with toilet paper today." An armed police officer standing next to the toilet paper line to make sure no violence broke out. Waiting your turn to enter the toilet paper aisle. Allowed one package of toilet paper. No bleach or hand sanitizer in sight. Sometimes there were paper towels, sometimes not. One package of eggs, one carton of milk per family, regardless of how many family members lived together. Later, meat was rationed too. Flour was never rationed, but couldn't be found for a long time. Nor could we find rice or beans. Sometimes there was no bread or tortillas. No pizzas or broccoli for a long time. So often, having to explain to the kids, "Sorry, but it's a pandemic." Hearing Tyrien repeat it back, in his tiny little five year old voice, "It's because of the pandemic." 

We did well for March, April, and part of May. Then the governor ended his stay at home order, and things went to shit. Masks somehow became a political divide. Our parking lot at times gets dangerous- whatever drugs people are resorting to these days are giving them superhuman strength and rage. One co-worker's child ended up in the psych hospital, the other in jail, both for symptoms consistent with mental illness induced by the circumstances. Had the second child been white, he probably would have been sent to the psych ward instead of jail. That was just before the week of murders committed by police officers and George-Zimmerman copy cats - a father-son duo that hunted and killed a black teenager, a two rookie cops not knowing what to do when two more seasoned cops insisted on excessive force on a man who said he couldn't breathe, until he died. Over a $20 freaking bill. A woman, a healthcare worker, shot in her own bed during a drug bust - except they got the wrong house. The list went on. Our president hid in a bunker one night, then after that was leaked to the media, deployed the military, ordered dispersal by force upon peaceful protesters, so that he could walk, escorted by generals, to a church in a fantastic show of power, then pose with his gorgeous model wife and a Bible, both props, for we've always known he is not a man of faith or faithfulness. He committed so many atrocities during this time, when we couldn't keep up with it all. He continued letting his felonious friends get away with their crimes, springing them from jail just before their sentence was about to begin. He refused to wear a mask, held large rallies, with people standing shoulder to shoulder, maskless, shouting, in indoor venues, even here in Arizona, as our numbers soared. While this went on, our wildfire started, the worst I've ever seen. It burned for over 30 days. Symptoms of smoke inhalation are identical to symptoms of COVID19. Protesters at risk of not just heat stroke, but smoke inhalation too. Surprisingly, they didn't drive the spread - it was bar-goers up in Scottsdale. Our governor refused to close restaurants or salons back down. He gave us a weeklong curfew after the Scottsdale Mall was vandalized, but when it came to preventing the spread of the virus, he stayed mum. He eventually shut down bars, pools, and gyms, seeming arbitrary decisions, while insisting he was following the science, the public health, but blocked local governments from shutting down or requiring masks.  He finally reversed his decision and allowed local governments to mandate masks. He at least delayed the start of school, in person schooling anyway. Not because kids are thought to be superspreaders by any means, but if our hospitals are full, then we need the pediatric units to serve as surge units. And teachers are fearful.

This is where even Americans of the same party turn on each other. Teachers afraid to go back to work - yet they continue to eat food, which means they relied on other people to back to work - those that work the farms, the processing and packaging plants, the truck drivers, the stockers, the cashiers. They continued to take medicine. They continued to get medical care when they needed it. They couldn't see that their words were a slap in the face to those of us who kept working throughout for the good of our communities, or out of desperation to keep food on the table. They couldn't see their own privilege. I didn't want the schools to open in the midst of crisis, and I think the president is ridiculous for threatening to pull funding for schools that don't open, as if money would make the virus go away, but I did want the schools to be open for the kids who need it most - the kids at risk for abuse, neglect, substance use, depression, suicidality, the little ones who can't be left alone yet their parents need to work, and yet I kept seeing posts saying how selfish people like me were for not valuing teachers' lives. While I continued to go to work.

By mid July, depression had begun to affect me. I took turmeric and flaxseed oil, I ate low carb, I practiced meditation and spent time outdoors each day. But I couldn't bring myself to run or practice krav anymore. My brain was great at figuring out new protocols as new information came out, but then sluggish when it came to writing grants for the future. Stay at home employees snapping at essential employees, and us snapping back. By mid July, our hospitals were so overwhelmed that I was no longer willing to enter grocery stores anymore, and finally resorted to online ordering, but insisted on picking up the groceries myself, and feeling the guilt that the person bringing my groceries still had to be exposed to other shoppers. At least by then those shoppers were wearing masks. Witnessing grown men in Home Depot complaining about how stupid they looked in masks. I was tempted to say, "Actually, I think it's an improvement." But I was wise enough to hold my tongue.

In August, the boys online schooling started. The teachers put in alot of effort, but it was an absolute disaster. A few days before the start of school, I asked the principal how independent a kindergartner might be. She answered, "Ideally you'd sit right next to him and help him the entire time. But I know not everyone can do that. My youngest will be in daycare during the day and we'll do his classwork at night." This was heartbreaking to me. Sending kids to daycare because the schools were closed? Trying to cram a days' worth of learning into a child's brain at night??? 

We set Tyler up in the office. He was happy to be independently doing his work. It seemed great. Until we realized he was failing three classes. 

Tyrien on the other hand, we set up at the dinner table. Tyson sat next to him in the morning while I was at work. I'd come home at lunch and he'd leave for work, with me sitting next to Tyrien. Most weeks, I was unable to do more than answer email until after 3:20 each day. So then I felt obligated to work up until dinner time to offset my time. This meant less time for chores, less time for cooking dinner, less time to actually enjoy time with my kids. At a time when there were more dishes than ever, more dirt than ever, more stress than ever. Tyrien's teacher had them do water color often. In front of a laptop. Tyler needed help printing something, which seemed to be the case each day. While I was helping Tyler, Tyrien spilled water on the laptop and fried it. The keyboard no longer worked. Trying to type a question to the teacher was now impossible. 

It felt like the world of non-parents, non-working parents, parents of grown children, etc., were hearing about parents like us and judging us, and deeming us selfish or lazy. The truth was, we were working harder than ever, but were feeling like we weren't doing enough for anyone. Failing at working, failing at teaching, failing at parenting. We texted each other when we snapped at our kids, admitting to each other that we were losing our tempers more often than we would like. This caused me to fear for so many other kids out there, who were either home alone, or whose parents had less skills and resources than we did. 

Kylo became afraid of the dark, refusing to go out back at night, and even refusing to go for evening walks with me. The behaviorist came back out to evaluate. She increased his dose of medicine. She observed him playing with the kids, and commented, "I think you have a REALLY...GOOD...dog." She showed Tyson that Kylo's behavior towards him was love and affection. Where 7 months earlier, she had described Kylo as annoying, obnoxious, pushy and fearful, she now described him as "pushy and extremely sensitive." She felt his increase in fear and anxiety was the result of the fears and anxieties of the humans in the house. 

In early October, I tried out the university's "Test, Trace, Treat" plan. Unfortunately, I had a false positive. Of course I did. In August I had a false positive TB test. I flunked a glaucoma screen. So of course I would have a false positive COVID19 test! But not knowing that it was false, I followed the protocol. Called Campus Health, Risk Management, and Facilities Management, to send out "The Germbusters." Tried to get a confirmation test and was denied. Tyson was banned from his workplace. Fortunately, he was able to schedule all 4 of us for PCR tests through the county that morning. I broke into the house through the family room door, scaling a wall to do it. Once they left, I swept through the house, spraying the high touch surfaces and stripping the bed. All this annoyed Tyson to no end. After the test, I stayed on my side of the house, wearing my mask up until I went to sleep. I completed the contact tracing program, raided the kitchen for the coffee pot, coffee, tea, beef jerky, clif bars, and ramen. The next morning I learned that the president himself had tested positive for COVID19, and members of his team. Fortunately, soon after, I received my results - negative. Spent the day trying to undo all the work from the day before. Turned out there were a whole batch of false positives the day before. Nonetheless, Saturday, Pima County Health Department called for contact tracing. 

One day, Tyrien saw kids riding their bikes near our house. "Look, Mom. Kids! I'm not allowed to play with them, though." It sounded so apocalyptic! He hadn't been with other kids since March. 7 months. 

Last week the boys both started flag football. Indoor jujitsu seems too high risk (as well as indoor krav maga.) Outdoor sports seem a safer bet. Tyrien chose flag football, and to my surprise, Tyler said he wanted to try it, too. Tyrien danced in the dining room just before his first practice. He was so excited to be with kids again. 

Finally, tomorrow, the boys get to go to school for in person learning. Hoping we made the right call. Hoping this is the right choice for them. Hoping once the schools open, they can stay open, for those kids for whom this seems to be the right choice. 

Hoping for peace. Hoping for healing. Hoping for hope. Hoping. 

Kylo's Ascension

As much as we love Kylo, it hasn't exactly been smooth sailing. He's highly intelligent, but he is by no means obedient. He was stray for a good while, he's savvy, knows how to figure stuff out, and therefore, doesn't have a whole lot of "need" for humans. He likes us, he wants to be with us, but that doesn't mean he's going to do what we say just because we say it.

He's been pretty good about listening to me when not distracted. But when distracted, it's a whole other story. And even for me, when I come in after working all day, if he's out of the crate, but not outside, he turns into a Tazmanian Devil, jumping and mouthing me, trying to get me to stop walking and crouch to the floor so he can be close to myself. So, I could solve the problem by just crouching to the floor the moment I walk in the door. But that's not my style. (If he's in the crate and I'm the one to let him out, it's fine. If he's outside, and I'm the one to let him in, it's fine. It's just if he's free ranging in the living room that it's an issue.) He also still goes berserk at the doorbell, is still fearful of the vacuum, and still tends to jump on adult guests. He also still eats the kids' toys if given the opportunity. So what HAVE we accomplished so far?

A lot, actually! You see, until we got him into our house, we had no idea he'd never lived in a house before. He was a bull in a china shop. He was all over the furniture, counter surfing, knocking the kids down, mouthing the kids, and within a week, I had realized he wasn't even housebroken! He would relieve himself outside if he happened to be outside, but if he were in the house when he got the urge, he wouldn't communicate his intent to relieve himself before doing so. And when I would let him outside, he had no sense of urgency about relieving himself. He also had no sense of urgency about relieving himself on walks, either, instead storing it all up until he found a neighbor to greet - he'd jump to great the neighbor and then open the floodgates on the neighbor's shoes. There were lots of destructive behaviors, some escaping behaviors, as well as a ridiculous obsession with retrieving and chewing on kitchen towels and bedsheets, until I gave up on the "leave it" command and simply found new, inaccessible places to store said items.

He aced beginning and intermediate obedience classes. I warned the instructor and the other classmates, "He's smart, but he's not actually obedient." Finally, in the advanced class, the instructor got to see just how untrained he actually was. Both he and another little dog - maybe a lab-beagle mix, were exhibiting identical behaviors - jumping up on people, and reacting to nearby dogs. She dedicated the entire series to teaching them not to react. We practiced standing outside of Petsmart and not reacting to the dogs walking in and out. We tried practicing walking our dogs together, and still not reacting to the other dogs.  We had good days and bad days. The other dog stopped attending. We kept going, well past the 6 weeks that were designated to the class. She invited me to bring him back to an intermediate class, just to practice the skills in the presence of more dogs.

Meanwhile, Kylo began having random moments of fearfulness towards Tyson. He at times would act as though he wanted to "protect" the rest of us from Tyson. So off to the vet we went. The vet explained that since it was clear Kylo had separation anxiety, the protective behaviors may also be due to anxiety. Even his jumping and mouthing could be anxiety related. The vet gave me prescription medication and a referral to a behaviorist, stressing that the medication wasn't the cure, that behavior modification was necessary to fix this.

The medicine made a huge difference - suddenly, walking Kylo around other dogs was a breeze, and he initially stopped mouthing and jumping on me. But while we waited for the appointment with the behaviorist, Kylo's fearfulness increased. He was now trembling around Tyson, and even leaking urine in front of him. The behaviorist explained, "His behavior is VERY submissive. You have a dog who is afraid of you." She taught us a lot about fearful dogs. She showed us numerous pictures of dogs and people's emotional states, teaching us to find the similarities. She showed us lots of pictures depicting the many ways dogs can display fear. She increased the dose of Kylo's medication, and taught us new ways to address Kylo when he is experiencing fear. She couldn't identify the cause of Kylo's fear, just "something is spooking him." She said instead of trying to get him to face his fear, Tyson should just redirect Kylo's attention elsewhere. Meanwhile, she noted that Kylo was "both pushy and fearful" and worked to address Kylo's attention-demanding behaviors.

Next, she had Tyson feed him freshly cooked chicken while working to establish trust.Then she worked on teaching Tyson some relationship building skills, through "Touch" and "Watch me." She explained that by getting Kylo to make eye contact with Tyson, his oxytocin levels would increase, strengthening their bond.  Lastly, she recommended Tyson teach Kylo "environmental agility" to strengthen their relationship.

Kylo had already figured out how to climb on the swingset on his own...

After just one practice session with Tyson, Kylo easily climbed the wall.

Suddenly, Kylo is so much more interested in Tyson. One day, Tyson said, "Look at him, he's weird again. He won't come when I call him." He squatted down, held out his hands, and Kylo walked straight into his arms, and gave him a kiss. While he always seemed restless until every member of his pack came home, now he actively seeks Tyson for affection.

I am so glad that he and Tyson are back on track. But I also really get a kick out of Kylo's new skills!

Christmas 2019

Christmas is one of our favorite holidays. We were lucky this year to get to celebrate with both Grandma G and Grandma A. We continued Peggy Johnson's tradition of Christmas jammies. My sister's right, it adds to the joy because the kids look as though they, too, are wrapped up as Christmas gifts.

We were very lucky that Santa called our house to check in with Tyrien. I think Tyrien gave him a run for his money! Poor Santa couldn't get a word in edgewise, and finally, asked if Tyler was there, and if by any chance he could speak to him. Tyler was happy to oblige.

Tyrien was shouting at Tyler to give him back the phone to talk to Santa some more. Santa quickly got off the phone. As Tyler wasn't sure if Santa got everything, he proceeded to write him a letter. He dropped it in the mail before we could check how he had labeled the envelope. I explained that next time, he needed to use a stamp, return address, etc. He cranked out another letter to Santa, put a stamp on the envelope, assured me he had spoken to Tyson about it, and dashed out to the mailbox again. When I checked in with Tyson later, why no, he had NOT gone over how to properly address/return address an envelope, and of course, the mail man had already picked it up. Surprisingly, that letter somehow made it to Santa, because Santa wrote back! Tyler was thrilled.

Meanwhile, Christmas the Elf continued to serve as a backup for communicating with the North Pole. While Grandma A was at our house accepting a refrigerator delivery, somehow Christmas ended up in Kylo's mouth. Grandma A was able to rescue Christmas and nurture him back to health. He will forever bear the mark of Kylo on his face, but he seemed cheerful as ever about it.

We continued our annual tradition of building a gingerbread house (from a kit cuz we're slackers like that) and baking Christmas cookies to give away as gifts. This year, I got behind. I cut and baked the sugar cookies on the Thursday night before Christmas, in the hopes that Tyler could give them to his teachers the next day, which was the last day before the break. Tyler decorated 7 cookies in the morning, but they didn't set fast enough. I stopped by the house to pick them up before going to pick him up from early release at school. He handed one teacher a cookie, bypassing his math teacher, who was standing right next to her, and running to deliver a cookie to his drama teacher, stopping to give one to his art teacher, who was in the crosswalk at the time, calling out, "Drive-by cookie delivery???" He then ran back to the initial cluster of teachers and proceeded to pass them out, again bypassing his math teacher. He ran out of cookies, so left without giving her one. Awkward...we'll have to give her a new year's treat instead.

We were then able to decorate the rest of the cookies at our leisure. We listened to Tyler's playlist while working on the cookies, including Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It" and Beastie Boys "You Gotta Fight", so of course decorating fell to the wayside as the dance party emerged. The irony that we were rocking out to those two songs in particular while Grandma G was trying to take a nap made me laugh. The dance party/cookie decorating continued for quite some time, and led directly into the gingerbread house assembly project.

A couple years ago, Tyrien experimented by shoving a gingerbread house decoration - a candy ball, way up his nostril. He remembered this, and was very concerned with preventing Tyler and me from making the same mistake.

Typically, we invite Grandma A for a special Christmas sleepover at our house. Grandma G sleeps on the futon in the family room, and Grandma A sleeps on an air mattress in the office. This year, Grandma A was dogsitting for our friends, so we skipped the sleepover. Still, on Christmas Eve, we continued our annual tradition of attending the Christmas Eve Candlight Service together. We've been going to Catalina United Methodist for the past few years. This year, they set up a cookie decorating station and a photo booth.

After the service, we drive around, looking for awesome Christmas Light displays. This year, the Castle House on 5th St. was a favorite, as were some in the neighborhood right behind it.

We got the kids to bed early this year, around 9pm. Tyler was very concerned that he would not be getting any gifts this year, particularly since he hadn't seen any presents anywhere around the house.   We agreed that he could wake any late sleepers at 7am by playing the piano. Kylo alerted me that Tyler was up and out of his room a little before 6am. I went to capture the beauty of the early bird scoping out the Christmas gifts.

At 7:00am, Tyler began plunking some tunes - Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer. When this failed to elicit the desired response, he repeated the song, louder and louder, rousing Tyrien and Grandma G, but not Tyson. Finally he gave up and went to our room to deliver a personalized wake up message to Tyson.

The boys moved on, but Kylo kept on posing...

Our tradition of allowing the four-footed member of the family to initiate the gift-opening process continued. However, since Kylo is too nervous to enjoy chewing on a bone in front of people, Santa brought him a different type of gift this year.

Kylo loves stuffed animals, and he loves puzzles. How perfect to get a puzzle made out of stuffed animals!

The chipmunks turned out to be a great source of entertainment for the rest of us throughout the day.

Meanwhile, the gift-opening continued...

Favorite gifts this year were beyblades for Tyler, Paw Patrol and a claw machine for Tyrien, and flannel sheets to warm those cold little feet at night. Grandma A came over later in the morning, bearing more gifts.Tyson made a delicious breakfast, then Tyler and Tyson enjoyed a new video game. After a while,  Tyson and I enjoyed a winter walk with Kylo - usually only one of us gets to walk with Kylo at a time, so a walk together was a special treat.  Grandma A returned for our family dinner.

The day after Christmas is usually "Official Play With Your Toys Day." This year, Grandma G wanted to go see her cousin Gary. I knew his son Brad was in town with his family. I know how much Tyler loves to see cousins, so we left our house at 8:30am to try to catch Brad and his family before they left town. It worked! We arrived just as Lili and the kids were pulling away for supply shopping. We caught up with Gary and Beth, then Brad returned from hosting a geocaching event. He introduced Tyler to Cameron's scooter. Tyler asked, "Is the man with the grey shirt, not the old man but the other man, is he my family?" As I explained, "My Grandma K was Echo Belle, she was sisters with Erma, Erma's son is Gary, inside, and Gary's son is Brad", Brad entered the garage, immediately caught on to the conversation, and added, "your mother and I are second cousins, so you and Cameron are third cousins." Tyler grinned. He loves family!

At last, Cameron arrived! Tyler got some time alone with him. For the first time ever, when I approached Tyler to snap a picture, Tyler gave me a look as if to say, "Mom, you're ruining it! Leave us alone!" I quickly retreated, beaming inside to know how much Tyler treasured this moment.

Merry Christmas!

Kylo!

I'm always happiest when I have a dog living in my house. To me a dog means safety, love, companionship, the ability to go for evening runs, a reason to not work too late after closing, a companion for nights of insomnia, etc. I've missed Vader immensely. Especially at night. Whenever I stirred in my sleep, he'd come check on me, give me a reassuring kiss, and I'd usually fall right back to sleep. Even on his last night, he kept coming to check on me.

I've been wanting a dog pretty much ever since he died - I never got used to not having one. Tyson was against it because we were so busy. But as Tyrien became more independent, and as our friends kept toting the value of dogs, it felt like Tyson was beginning to soften. Tyler was asking for a dog, and anytime we were in the presence of dogs, the boys would spend a ton of  time cuddling with them.

Even Tyson.

Tyler had started asking for a dog. I advised him to think about the chores that come with having a dog, and to prepare his marketing spiel before approaching his dad.

Tyler's rhetoric must have worked, because on my birthday, just a little over two years after Vader died, Tyson gave me this, the most wonderful present.

We kept this gift hidden from the boys. My birthday gift could also be their Christmas gift!

Little did we know, that same evening, a stray dog was picked up and brought to the Maricopa County Animal Shelter.

 Back in Tucson, I began my search for a canine companion. The first time I went to the local animal shelter, I felt completely overwhelmed. So much noise, so many people, so many dogs. My criteria was pretty specific - I was looking for a Labrador Retriever mix, at least 1 year old, under 60 pounds, black fur, and preferably male. I didn't find anything like that. Instead, I found a tan, female lab mix named Alice, who seemed sweet, but she was there with her sister, they were hoping  they'd be adopted together. No way were we getting two dogs!  I decided if she were still there the next weekend, I'd try meeting her in person.

The next weekend, I brought Tyrien with me. Tyrien dubbed the shelter  "The Dog House." We didn't find any new dogs that met our criteria, so we went to check on Alice. When Tyrien approached her kennel, she growled at him and showed her teeth. Okay, no Alice for us. I immediately saw the value in bringing the family with me to meet potential dogs.

When I came home empty-handed a second time, Tyson declared, "I'm going to have to get involved, aren't I?" We were coming up on Christmas. The goal was to get a dog just before Christmas, so we could work with it while we were home over winter break. I started researching dogs in the animal shelters up in Phoenix. It turned out that there were far more dogs meeting my criteria there.

On Saturday, December 22nd, we secretly loaded Vader's old crate into the truck bed and strapped it down. We attended Tyler's Lil Dragons class, as usual. Grandma G was visiting, and joined us. When Tyler realized we were driving all the way to Phoenix instead of going home, he became very upset. We tried to convince him that this trip would be worth it for him, but we didn't give away the surprise. He griped throughout the drive. When we entered the animal shelter, he complained about the smell and all the noise. Tyrien was excited, since he'd already been to one dog house, he knew he'd get to see lots of animals and that some of them would let him cheer them up.

I couldn't locate the dogs I'd found on line at first, except for one,  a small female lab mix named Maggie. A young couple was waiting to get to meet her, so we needed to wait until they made up their mind before we could even visit with her. I realized we were looking for all the same dogs they were, our criteria matched too closely. But Tyson had told me he was interested in dogs larger than my original search, so I asked the gentleman to point me in the direction of the dogs that were too large for them. Eventually, they decided not to take that dog, because she had been brought in for attacking cats, and they already had a cat. So Tyson went to try to meet her through the kennel, while I waited in line to arrange for a private meeting.

Tyson texted me that Maggie was warming up to him, letting him pet her through the kennel. But there were other flags in her file, and the employee couldn't get the computer system to let her see them. Since we had small children with us, she didn't allow us to meet the dog without seeing the file first. Meanwhile, Grandma G had wandered through the "puppies and kittens" section of the shelter - an area I had deemed off limits. She found me and informed me that there were dogs over a year old in the puppy aisle. I looked up my search again, and asked Tyson to try to find a dog named Forrest.

While the employee was apologizing again for not being able to access Maggie's file, Tyson texted that Forrest was already warming up to him. I asked if we could meet Forrest instead. She immediately lit up, saying, "Now, THAT'S the kind of dog I like to adopt."

The employee sent us to an outside kennel. We waited a few minutes for her to bring Forrest on a large rope. She let him off leash. He sniffed Tyson, darted away from Tyrien, Tyler and me, sniffed Grandma G, who had sat down on a plastic chair. She patted his head, and he joyously lifted his leg and urinated on her. Poor Grandma. She was a good sport about it.

Forrest was huge, filthy, stinky, with matted fur, fur missing from the edges of his ears, and dark gritty matter inside his ears. But Tyson saw a diamond in the rough and was able to pet him right away. Forrest took a while to warm up to the rest of us. The employee explained that he had just been neutered the day before, and was likely still groggy from the anesthesia. She explained that he had been brought in as a stray and they had no background information on him. He had no interest in fetch. He was much more interested in splashing in the baby pool, which he wasn't allowed to do, as he wasn't supposed to get his incision wet. We would have to wait 10 days to give him a bath. Man, that dog stank.  Tyrien, surprisingly, ignored Forrest, preferring to throw rocks in the baby pool. Eventually, Forrest warmed up to Tyler, and Tyler muttered hopelessly, "I wish he could come home with us." Tyson and I answered, "Okay." Tyler looked up, confused. "You want a dog for Christmas, right? Do you want this one?" Finally, the trip seemed worthwhile to him.

We had to wait quite a while longer to get Forrest. I had to fill out paperwork, pay fees, and then go to a different part of the shelter and wait for him to be brought to us. The employee who brought him warned, "He's a big time countersurfer." Next we had to take him to another part of the clinic for his microchip and blood test. Each employee we passed warned, "That dog is a major countersurfer." Tyson prepared the crate in the back of the truck. The employee who had been working with us expressed concern about Forrest riding in the back of the truck for the drive back to Tucson. The dog weighed 67 pounds. There were five passengers. No way was he fitting inside the cab of the truck. Tyson calmly pointed out, "He rode in the back of a truck to get here, right?" She kindly located a huge, warm horse blanket and some treats. We had brought a water bowl, anchored it to the crate, and filled it with water. Next, we tried to get the dog up into the bed of the truck. He refused

I tried showing him how to climb up, to no avail. I tried walking him a few feet back, and running directly at the truck. That didn't work either. Aware that the employee was still standing there, watching us, judging us, I finally approached Forrest like a lamb, and picked him up, all 67 pounds, and placed him in the truck. I used treats to get him into the crate. He cried when I locked the crate. I climbed into the truck with the rest of the family. As I buckled in, he began barking. We heard a wrenching, clunking sound. Tyson muttered, "That was the water dish." Next, he started attacking the crate, trying to  pry his way out. I saw that employee was still standing there, watching us. We worried the crate wouldn't last for the drive home. "I'll ride in the back with him."

I climbed into the bed of the truck, and curled up around the crate. Tyson drove gently to an In and Out restaurant. We brought him out of the crate, taking turns to enter the restaurant for the restroom, taking turns eating, and of course, feeding him hamburger. He warmed up to us all very quickly right about then.

Tyson walked him around the parking lot. For not wanting a dog, he sure gave him a lot of love and attention!

We had talked about the name Kenobi before we met Forrest. We realized Kenobi was too long, and Forrest ended with a hard consonant. Plus, he wasn't responding to it, so obviously it wasn't his name.We needed a name that was two syllables and that could be drawn out when we needed to call him. We started trying out various Jedi names. Obi-wan. Three syllables. Obi - no we already knew a dog named that. Yoda - no, this dog was too big. Mace. Too short. Windu. Didn't seem to fit him. Qui-Gon. Too hard to say. So we started trying out sith names. Maul. Too short and seemed like a bad idea to give such a dangerous sounding name to a large dog. Anakin. Sidious. Palpatine. Kylo Ren - too many syllables. Kylo. Rolls right off the tongue. And given his behavior in the crate, seemed apropos. Kylo!

Everyone who met Kylo loved him, talked about how striking he was, with that brindle coat. Amazing, because I still couldn't get over the stench.

We loaded him back into the truck. Poor Grandma G was very nervous for me to ride in the back of the truck on the freeway, where the speed limit is 75mph. I wasn't thrilled about it, but honestly, I've had to do it once before. It wasn't as cold that time, though. And I was younger. And it was only partway, when we'd lost a tiedown for a grill we were transporting. I decided to try riding in the cab. Kylo was much calmer this time. Nonetheless, he remained standing for three quarters of the drive. Finally, around Picacho Peak, he decided to lay down.

When we got to our house, we took him for a quick walk up and down the block. When we let him in the house, he bounded onto the couch, bashing and crashing into everything. Then, on leash, we gave him a tour of our house and back yard. His size and enthusiasm were overwhelming. Kylo knew he wanted to be inside that house. But he clearly didn't know how to behave inside a house. Talk about a bull in a china shop!

 This dog is so TALL! Now we saw what the shelter staff meant by "countersurfing." Anything on our breakfast bar and kitchen counters was within his reach, and wow, was he reaching. He entered the family room and turned into a toddler, finding all kinds of hazards to chew. His tail knocked glasses off the coffee table. He tried to get on the couch. Anesthesia - bah! This dog was hyped up beyond belief.

We dug frozen salmon patties out of our freezer. Tyson cooked them and put them in a bowl for Kylo - we hoped the omega 3s would help him recover from being malnourished. He gobbled down his dinner in 39 seconds. I know, because I timed it. When he drank water, he gulped it, but then let it splatter all over the floor.

Eventually, he settled enough to sit.

Then we realized he was interested in watching TV.

We ended up putting a show about dogs on for him. He was so excited whenever he heard the dogs bark, and ran around the living room looking for them. Then he would sit to watch the show again.

I went to the pet store to get him some supplies. When you bring home a dog whose gone through a rough time, it feels so good to pamper and spoil him. Even though it wasn't yet Christmas, I bought him a giant rawhide bone.

He hated it.

Poor Kylo looked so emaciated. His ribs, vertebrae and scapula were all showing, and his hips looked so thin. It felt good to give him Vader's orthopedic bed instead of leaving him to rest on hard tile. Even though he was in a new environment, he fell sound asleep!

That night, we had him sleep in a crate in our room. He whined at first, then settled down. Until Tyson came to bed. Then he started crying again. Frustrated, Tyson left to sleep on the couch. I resisted the urge to let him out of the crate. Eventually he settled down and went to sleep.

The next couple of days, Tyler went out of his way to show Kylo lots of TLC.

After a couple nights,  we started leaving the door to his crate open at night. Kylo would sleep in the crate until Tyson came to bed, then would sleep on the floor next to him. He clung to Tyson during the day. Tyson commented "He must have imprinted with me. Because you're doing all the work but he's acting like he's my dog!" I thought that was GREAT - Vader and Tyson were never close the way Dusty and Tyson were. I was excited for Tyson to have a close bond with a dog again.

Tyrien kept asking if we had to take Kylo back to the dog house. He didn't seem able to believe that Kylo was really going to live with us. There were lots of tears at first, as Kylo's exuberant greetings would send Tyrien crashing to the floor. We all had scratches and teeth marks on our arms. Shirts were torn. Food got stolen. Toys were chewed. Carpets were stained and plants were urinated on.

And Tyler's love for Kylo warmed my heart.

Fall 2018

In August, we celebrated Tyson's 42nd birthday. I thought Tyson didn't want us to celebrate his birthday, so instead planned to celebrate the 42nd anniversary of the day Anne Marie made the world a better place. But somehow the cake landed in front of him.

So did the presents.

Tyler's first school project for 3rd grade was to photograph plants. He did a great job!

Such a relief that he once again has a teacher who inspires a love of learning, and seems to enjoy the pleasure of his company! BASIS is known for being a very challenging school, and since Tyler doesn't enjoy doing anything that wasn't his idea, homework time can be pretty rough. But any time of day when I approach the school yard, I hear children's laughter, and the kids are never in a hurry to leave at the end of the day.

Tyler earned his youth purple belt. He is great at grappling - he's strong, he's solid, and he has good technique. I have a video of him grappling with his arch rival, CJ, and Sensei Tony is heard encouraging CJ, "Good job CJ, just try to survive." Meanwhile, Tyler is known for being gentle and kind to the younger, smaller kids.

I'm still studying krav maga, and just starting to get ready for my Level 2 test. This request requires sparring. I was given advice from a Level 4 (brown belt) - a grown up version of Tyler named Amir - large stature, skilled, intimidating, yet kind. He told me, "I'm just going to keep wearing you out because I can outreach you. You need to move in." I answered, "I'm afraid of you. You could kill me." He replied, "You're going to have to learn to eat some punches. Move in." I wrote down this advice several months in a row on my fitness calendar. I also overheard my instructor coaching a new student, another big guy, who had years of experience but was out of practice, to work with me, saying, "She is brutal - do NOT go easy on her." Hearing that made me realize, I better always stay on my game, or else I risk getting seriously hurt. So I wrote that down to, to help motivate me to keep training hard.

The training paid off - in my first sparring class, when I went up against a black belt, yet another big guy, I took Amir's advice, and kept advancing upon my opponent. I smiled the whole time to remind him that I didn't have a mouth guard. Amir was right, by staying close to my partner, he couldn't hit me as hard. The teacher was filming, and he exlaimed, "Cheryl's a brawler! She doesn't give a f---! She's all, 'I will punch you in the face, even if it means I get hit.'" At that point, my partner performed a take down, and down I went. But you just gotta get back up and keep going. One minute feels like a long time. Four minutes is exhausting. The last level 2 test, they sparred for 26 minutes. I have my work cut out for me. Guess it's time to buy some equipment and start sparring on a regular basis.

For Halloween, Tyler decided to be a World War II soldier. He found a jacket at our local Walmart. I found camo cargo pants at a different Walmart. We ordered what we thought was a helmet from e-bay, waited for it to ship from China, only to discover we had paid $8 for a net. Our oversight. So we ordered a helmet from Amazon for $13. Tyson found Tyler a toy M-16 at Miller's surplus. I helped him paint his face camo colors. Overall, we probably spent $50, but, he wears the jacket every day to school, he wears the pants at least once a week to school, the jacket came with a tshirt that he also wears, and he seriously wears the helmet and plays with the gun for at least 30 minutes a day on school days, and longer on the weekends. Our front yard is perfect for sniping and ambushing, as is the truck.

We used to go to either Buckelew Farms or Marana Pumpkin Patch to select a pumpkin, but we realized the price of admission for 4 people was out of control, not to mention the long drive. Brian & Kelly's pumpkin patch works just fine for our purposes.

Tyrien decided to dress as Pocoyo - a little boy who wears all blue. We ordered a hat, sweatpants and hooded jacket online from Amazon. We spent about $40. But, just like Tyler,  he's wearing the clothes to school on a  regular basis. Tyson's strategy of avoiding store bought Halloween costumes is paying off.

To entice more trick or treaters to visit our house, I put up purple lights early in October, all the way around the Holmes and the Irving side of our house. This way, students attending Peter Howel Elementary School and people driving along Irving would know that we are big on Halloween. I also taped black construction paper bats up on the wall. Unfortunately, it rained quite a bit and they fell down. I never got around to fixing it. But still, at least we got the message out there early.

Next, I listed our house on the Next-Door Trick or Treat map as a "haunted house" instead of just "passing out candy." This forced me to up the ante, in case people believed that it really was a haunted house. I bought a skeleton, named him Javi (short for Javier). Tyson was concerned that he would get stolen, so I used a cable lock to secure him to the bars on our front window, and then added Christmas lights. I also got a guy who Tyler named "Null" who I hung from our roof. Unfortunately, he did not show up very much. I'll have to do something else with him next year.

At some point I installed the blacklights in the carport light. Then I waited until the Sunday before Halloween to add the tombstones and cobwebs, and began measuring white streamers, so that Halloween morning I could hang them up quickly.  Halloween morning I work up early to make brains using gelatin and tonic water. I also made jars of eyeballs with gelatin and tonic water, and other specimen jars with tonic water and food coloring.  Halloween morning was still too early to hang stuff - it rained and was very windy, so I had to re-hang alot of stuff Halloween evening. I left work at 4:15 to do so, and wished for more time. I added more cobwebs and spiders and put out the other black lights and the fog machine. Finally, I set up the spider spotlight and added spooky music.

These strategies worked. Cars stopped in front of our house, I'd see people looking on their phones and saying, "Yup, this is the one." Parents and kids alike expressed appreciation for the house, with some kids telling parents "This house is awesome!" as they walked up the driveway, before they could even see the decor. Kids dissected the brains, they quickly dissolved into a mess. Next year I should make several and replenish them. We did a good job of forcing kids to walk through the streamers this year. One kid complained, "This is not a haunted house!" and then the fogger went off, scaring the crap out of him. He thought a spider was on his neck and frantically tried to get it off his back.

Happy Fall!