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Last night I followed the sound of voices up to Gleek’s room where I found Howard, Kiki, and Gleek in a spirited conversation about a game they all love. This morning it happened again in the kitchen, only the topic was writing, language,the game, and storytelling. Kiki and Howard have long had conversations like this, but somewhere in the past few months Gleek passed a threshold and now she participates too. It makes me happy to hear them.

***

Link will walk toward me and throw his arms wide indicating that he wants a hug. He is much larger than me these days, but never went through a stage where he didn’t want hugs. Neither of my boys have. I’m glad of that, because hugs are a good and healing thing.

***

My two sons sit next to each other at their computers. Images on the screen move and jerk as they pilot their characters through imaginary worlds. They are playing a game together. From the other room I hear the rumble of their voices even when I can’t always hear what they are saying. It was so strange when Link’s voice dropped low, now Patch has joined him so that it takes me a moment to recognize which of them is speaking. Though if Patch keeps growing, his voice may go deeper than his older brother’s. They’re almost matched for height right now despite the six year difference in age. Periodically they erupt into shouts as something particularly exciting happens in the game. I listen and am glad that they’ve found ways to play together.

***

The cat yells at me. It is a long yowling sound which demands attention. So I turn to her and try to figure out what she wants. Sometimes it is a door opened, other times it is food. Frequently she needs me to pet her before she eats. Since the weather has turned cold she has spent more time demanding that I sit down and provide a lap for her to sleep on. I bend over and dangle my hand where she can come rub herself against it. She does not like being picked up, but she loves scritches. She is soft under my hand and I think again about how I thought my allergies meant that we would never be able to have a cat. Then she came to us and my body adapted so that all I experience is occasional nasal congestion instead of massive, can’t-breathe asthma attacks I used to get around cats. This animal has twined her way into our lives and hearts more thoroughly than I would have expected. She is getting older, so I am grateful for every day we get to have.

***

The kids were not thrilled to be in the car, they had other things they’d rather do than be hauled around on errands with their Mom. Yet they were there because they understood that these particular errands were for their benefit and they all needed to be present. It is hard to take passport photos of a person if they stayed at home. The photos happened at a Walgreens and while we were waiting the kids wandered the aisles picking out treats. It has been a long time since all four of my kids were at a store together. I watched as they called each other to look at things. We departed with them more cheerful than they’d arrived. I listened to them in the car as we drove to our next stop. They chattered about games they’d played and things that they’d seen on the internet. All four of them participated in the conversation.

I watched the kids pause for each other as we climbed out of the car and navigated our entrance to the furniture store. I led them through the maze of couches and tables to where they could flop themselves onto mattresses. We decided that our big Christmas gift for the year was to buy new ones for the kids. They were all excited by this because they’d been complaining about their old ones for a while now. I watched them play Goldilocks: too soft, to firm, just right. They all would have liked the super mattress that was out of my price range, but were happy with the nicest we could afford. As soon as we got home the kids scattered to their separate pursuits, but they’ll remember picking out mattresses together.

***

“Are you okay?” Howard asked me. I wasn’t, so he stopped and sat down with me while I talked through some emotions I was processing. It’s been a tough year for me these past twelve months as we’ve been through diagnosis, therapy, and mental health management for several kids. Howard listened, said good things, and made me laugh. I am so fortunate to have him.

8:30 am
I spent the weekend at World Fantasy in Saratoga Springs New York. I have a half-written blog post about that with some lovely autumn leaves pictures.

Yesterday I did quite a bit of running around for my son Link. He needed a non-driving state ID since acquiring the driver’s license does not seem to be in the near future. This task became urgent because he’s now 18 and I realized that he would no longer be allowed to fly on airplanes unless he had an official ID. We also went to look at a transitional program that may be of use to him after high school. Then we dropped off some paperwork at Vocational Rehabilitation where we were told that people are finally being pulled off of the waiting list where Link has been at the top for the last six months. So maybe things will get moving for him soon. That would be good. He’s been very discouraged in the past week or so. When I wasn’t helping Link, I was sleeping. Conventions always create a sleep debt.

Today I pick up where I left off. The trouble is that there are many different categories of things that I put down in order to go to World Fantasy. I have business administration to do in the form of accounting and shipping. I have design work to do on this year’s thank you postcard, Planet Mercenary, and Force Multiplication. There are decisions to be made about how to mitigate our taxes for the kickstarter money. I need to sign up for next year’s healthcare coverage, which requires lots of cross checking and thinking because I can’t just sign up for the same coverage we had this year. I have appointments to schedule. Unpacking to do. House maintenance. It is on days like today where my life feels a bit overwhelming.

7:40pm
I used my time well all day long, and I didn’t accomplish everything I hoped to do. I did many of the things. I think I got the most important things first, yet I’m looking at a tomorrow which needs to be every bit as effective as today was.

8:25pm
Knocked out two more important tasks. Hopefully now my task brain will be willing to shut down so I can relax toward bedtime. And perhaps sometime later this week I’ll be able to crowbar enough space for longer slower thoughts and well-crafted words.

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.