First things first: Apparently, just like with our counting of the omer, I can’t count one day at a time. I have two posts titled “Day 58”, and I’m not going back and changing numbers. So today doesn’t get a day, and tomorrow’s entry will continue the counting from yesterday’s. Clear as mud? OK.
Our government finally announced today that schools will be closed until the end of June. That changes absolutely nothing in this house, since I will continue to assign work and teach my children things that schools don’t teach anymore; Things like cooking, times tables, and how to identify and fix run-on sentences (that was today’s writing lesson.)
On the surface, I don’t have much to be stressed about. I’m learning, though, that the stress of uncertainty is insidious. I attended an online town hall meeting for E’s school, where the general message seemed to be, “We’re preparing for anything, because we can predict nothing.” Great to know they’re preparing, but it’s more than a little frustrating to come out of a meeting with only the same knowledge you brought in.
The kids’ Jewish overnight camp told us weeks ago that they wouldn’t be running this summer, while the overnight music camp they attend at the end of August is still hopeful about being able to open. I started cancelling our epic family trip to the U.K. that we’d planned for June (four weeks in England, Wales, and Scotland! Sob!) and simultaneously looking for a cottage to rent this summer (although apparently there’s a ban on short-term vacation rentals in Ontario right now.) See why I’m feeling so uncertain?
At least life is never boring around here; today we held a funeral for a bird that flew headfirst into our glass patio door. Poor little guy — we put on vinyl gloves (that we have thanks to COVID) and checked to see if he was breathing at all or if he had any kind of little birdie pulse. No and no.
N got to work digging a little bird grave, while E looked around for a stone to mark it with. Meanwhile, R held our bird friend gently. “I know he’s dead, but we should still treat him respectfully,” she said. “He’s a human being, after all.”
“Um, R? He’s not a human being. He’s a bird.”
“OK, yeah. But he’s a creature and we should be kind,” She clarified as she gently laid the bird in the ground.
At times like this, I realize that despite all their tantrums, weird behaviour, picky eating, hitting, laziness, backtalk, rivalry, lack of hygiene, and flouting of bedtime… these kids are going to be wonderful adults.