Month: August 2020

School | From Home

by Ashley filed under Covid-19

I know we’re all overwhelmed and I know we’re all in varying degrees of sinking ships, BUT I’m trying (my best) to stay in gratitude these days and want to be, perhaps, the lone voice that says schooling from home isn’t that bad (yet).

I can’t say what I’m about to say without prefacing it with some degree of awareness to my own ingrained privileges; like the fact that I work primarily from home (minus the shifts I work in the hospital). And the fact I have an amazingly supportive family who will most always make themselves available to myself and my boys. The list goes on.

Our school gave us three options to choose from: 100% at school, 50% at school and 50% from home, and 100% from home. I chose the last option and here’s why. Covid is not going away anytime soon and after summer comes fall and the start of flu season. Flu symptoms are going to mimic Covid symptoms. The schools will not be able to stay open, there’s just no way. If given the choice, which we are and I’m grateful for, I also don’t want to be a part of the spread. Schools don’t exist on an island, they’re part of the community, and while I’m grateful we have the privilege of making the choice, I’m also not sure that’s an option we ought to be given. Case in point, I don’t agree with schools opening during a pandemic. Moreover, I think the hybrid choice will lend itself to segmented learning; adjusting to online, then adjusting to the classroom, then having to bounce back to online once the virus infects as it’s likely to do.

That said, I made the decision to put Sonny back at his Montessori school, which I’ve had to grapple with as it seems contrary to some of the points I just made. And yet, I’m learning that life is so often this AND that, not this OR that. And the truth of the matter is that I cannot homeschool the older two, or even facilitate their online learning / maintain a quiet environment, and run my business with a four-year-old at home. What’s been happening during our summer school sessions (I had the older boys keep up with work here and there over the summer so the transition back wouldn’t be as rough and I’m so glad we did) is that Sonny sneaks away upstairs, finds the iPod and rests quietly in bed watching YouTube. And the silence is so golden I can’t bear to interrupt it and then I spend the entire time that I’m getting through emails or working with the boys feeling guilty. Or he’s throwing an all-out tantrum and I’m wishing he were just quietly watching YouTube in his bed. Ha. In any event, I had to weigh the pros and the cons and this is what’s best for us in the here and now. His school is very small and while I’m going with it for the time being, I know no decision is permanent and I can change my mind at any time. It’s all a clusterfuck, even my thoughts on it. Hashtag: when there’s lots of balls in the air and they all seem to be made of glass.

Back to the older boys and my decision to commit to online learning all year long.  Here’s why I’m celebrating my decision: I’ve taken back my power. The last few months of  last school year, when everything abruptly shut down, was so anxiety ridden. The not knowing killed me. But now, I know what to expect because I’ve already committed myself. I’m not having to check numbers to see when our county is off whatever list it’s on, I’m not having to readjust to a forever changing schedule or setting. Point being, I know what to expect and I can build confidently off that solid foundation. And I’m doing just that. I spent several hours yesterday researching lessons, finding whatever crossovers I could between their two grade levels so I could kill two birds with one stone, and organizing my next two weeks of lessons. Sure they’re doing online school with a teacher but as I’ve explained it to them, we will be supplementing on the side to be sure their education remains strong. Because we can. I can. They also get to be a part of it, which I hope over time is appealing to them. Meaning next week we are going to learn about Kelly Slater (their request) and we’re going to create a writing assignment around it. And writing is my jam so I’m stoked on that. And I’m stoked to make them a part of it. And I’m stoked I get to be a part of it. It’s only a year, right?

And surely whatever we do in-home will be heavily doused with phys ed periods of surfing and skating and working out. My goal: to show them the well roundedness of self-care; mind, body, soul. Each morning, they write in their gratitude journals. Around the dinner table we’re talking about our emotions. I’m pointing out motherfucking similes like they’re birds in the sky and, as I told the boys, we’re gonna take Covid by the balls, twist them in a knot, and smack them down on the goddamn wood table.

At least that’s my spirit one week in. I’m also granting myself grace and expecting there to be days I want to bury my head in the sand. But hey, maybe I can invite them to do so and we can call it a science experiment. Test how long I can survive without oxygen. See my good attitude? Please remind me of this a few months from now when I’m putting subtitles on TV and calling it reading and teaching them how the microwave works so they can cook their own goddamn meals and filing it under Home Economics.

Hey Girl | An Interview

by Ashley filed under Covid-19, Divorce, The Bee & The Fox

In hindsight I’ve had a long history of speaking up in some ways while remaining silent in others. For someone that’s taken up this space for many years now, you’d think I had found my voice. And yet, I’m still finding it. That’s why I was filled with both sheer terror as well as immense honor when Alex Elle asked me to be on her podcast, Hey Girl. It’s actually something we talked about a few years back that never came to fruition (a sigh of relief at the time because this stuff does not come easily for me). I feel rather comfortable sharing via writing as I can hit “publish” when I feel that I’ve communicated my points clearly. But engaging in conversation is fluid and – to those who share my fears – even reckless. And I suppose that’s the point. In any event, Alex and I have since collaborated on a tee (you can check it out here) and now seemed like a good time to pick up where we left off. Talking business, motherhood, divorce, Covid, and more, it was an honor to open up and share some of my story on Hey Girl. You can listen to the episode by clicking HERE.

The Beehive

by Ashley filed under Alanon, Life

In my healing journey, the notion of a higher power is one that has been suggested to me many times and one I’ve grappled with and struggled to let in. Having been raised agnostic, I grew up believing I controlled my own destiny. I’ve learned that while I certainly have a part, there’s much that’s not in my control and also not meant to be in my control and consequently a lot I need to hand over. I don’t subscribe to God and if I did, I’d refuse to call him a He and I downright refuse any organized religion; rather I’m defining my own power greater than myself and learning as I go. There’s more to say here but for the purpose of what I’m sharing and in conjunction with where I’m at on that journey, that’s that.

Yesterday we left Santa Cruz in the wee hours of the morning, caught sunrise from the road, came home and unpacked, napped, made it out to our local skatepark, made dinner, and even had time to squeeze in sunset at the beach. And it was there, at the beach, that we stumbled upon a beehive. I noticed a man peering under the stair and when we caught eyes, he directed our attention to it. He signaled to his husband ahead of him and I called over to Hooper, who was still climbing on the rocks. And together, we stood in amazement watching all those bees climb over and through one another. Social distancing disregarded in a way only a hive can allow. Before the man walked away with his husband he said, “it’s hopeful, isn’t it?”. It is, I said. And we went our separate ways.
When we got back in my truck, I recounted the experience to the kids and said, “isn’t it beautiful how nature can nurture human connection?”. It is hopeful. It’s also how I see my own higher power reaching out to me, reminding me she’s here.

We Can Do Hard Things

by Ashley filed under Divorce, Hooper, Motherhood

I’ve definitely found a groove in single motherhood, an appreciation even, but the last few days have been challenging and I’m voicing it here so I can let it go and to let those who can relate know that I see them.

I had 48 hours without the boys, which is always bittersweet. It’s a feeling of equal parts dread and anticipation. I try to approach it from the logical perspective and focus on my work, which so often gets kicked to the curb. There’s pros and cons with anything but with running your own business, working from home is both a pro – in that you can do it from home and a con – because you’re always – seemingly – available. And so when they’re gone, I work on The Bee & The Fox from sun up to sun down.

But then my internet was out, an apparent problem within the area, according to Cox. I had the lighthearted energy that comes with a full night’s rest to do what I could with what I would; and so I concentrated on laundry and dishes, and reorganizing the boys’ room and watering the plants and so on and so forth.

I got little work done that I wanted to get done, got the boys back, and took them to the skatepark, per their request. Transition days are always riddled with big emotions and I’m still mixing ingredients, trying to find the perfect concoction that works for us. My game plan this day was to cater to them and get as much time outdoors as we could. I was helping Hooper on a trick he’s been trying to do when we fell forward, his chin being the first thing that hit the pavement. I couldn’t even tell what was injured because there was so much blood. I got something to hold onto his chin and took a look and could see the exposed fat and knew he’d need stitches. So there I was, single mom to three, during a pandemic, on my way to an urgent care.

There’s silver linings in all of this, like my brother-in-law who showed up soon after we got to the urgent care to take the other boys and allow me to concentrate on an anxious and frantic Hooper. I always strive to be honest with him so I tried to prepare him for what was to come; the prick of the lidocaine, the stitches… pretty sure I should have just kept my mouth shut.

Luckily they offered him laughing gas, his mood did a 180, he got 3 internal (aka deep) stitches and 5 additional ones that are more superficial, and we were on our way. Emotions still big from transition day mixed with post-trauma emotions was a recipe for disaster and there was a lot of tears and anguish that came with eating dinner with a newly loose tooth and a cracked molar (both from the impact of his fall). Silver lining number two came when his buddy from down the street came over to check on him and I watched a boy who was hell bent on making his mom believe he’d rather be dead turn into a ball of giggles, recounting the story in a jolly tone only friends have the honor of hearing; us moms always getting the tone filled with pity and anguish while the truth probably sits somewhere in the middle, like it does.

That night, after putting the boys in bed, I stepped in cat diarrhea. A result of Sol being spayed just two days prior and being on antibiotics. It felt like a fitting way to end my day. I texted my mom, who assured me – as she always does – that tomorrow will be a new day.

Sonny kept me up throughout the night, a situation that’s common on these days of transition; waking me up to tell me he loves me, waking me up to see if he can come in my bed, crawling into my bed, kicking me, scooting into me, and ultimately peeing so I could spin my wheels worrying about whether the pee pad was in the right place, annoyed that I’d have to do the laundry (again), and trying to stay in the 2 foot space I now had to avoid either rolling off the bed or lying in urine.

I woke up in the morning to find Sol had removed her cone; my mind picturing her licking her incision the whole damn night. But I didn’t step in anymore diarrhea, so there’s that.

I called the dentist first thing in the morning and was able to get him in at 9am, a silver lining in it’s own right. I lost my marbles though when Hooper came downstairs and met my excitement for us having to leave in 20 minutes, grateful we could get a same-day appointment, with a somber, ungrateful, reluctant tone of having to do something other than what he wanted. Something I can see now that has more tethers to my exhaustion and less tethers to a child’s ungratefulness; because surely there’s nerves and anxiety I was discounting in my overwhelming exhaustion.

Nothing had to be done at the dentist, another silver lining; his loose tooth is loose enough that it will fall out on its own (and it’s a baby tooth, so another silver lining) and the molar we’re going to keep an eye on since it will be a long while before the adult one moves in and other problems will be created if it’s removed now. So, not a problem today.

I feel my own self-pity creep in; that abrasive knock at the door from that friend you find annoying and is often invading your boundaries, telling you you should have a partner in this. That all of the juggling, the worrying, the catering, the planning, the tiredness would be less if divided by two. Logic trying to remind me that it can be multiplied, too. That division only occurs when shit’s working. So a longing balanced against an inner knowing that I’m exactly where I need to be, watering the relationships I know I’m meant to. Knowing that what I had is not what I’m longing for and that the opposite, longing for an ideal may be what got me in trouble in marriage in the first place.

That’s where I’m at; washing urine out of my laundry, cleaning cat shit up off the floor, tending to stitches, making soft food, all amongst the usual grind of juggling, keeping everyone busy, getting it in when I can fit it in – whatever “it” may be – and trusting my inner knowing in knowing that the path may sometimes be bumpy and the load is always heavier, but the signs are now pointing in the right direction.

“We can do hard things” being the words that most often leave my mouth these days.

Final silver lining: the sunset, post-stitches and pre-my-internet-working-again, right after we went back to the skatepark and conquered our fears; which collectively deserves its own post but, hey, who has the time?