Greetings, friends. I hope all is well. The McKay household is coping. Tim was taken out by vertigo last week, something he’s never experienced before. He’s not 100%, but he’s gone back to work today. There’s a very slight possibility that Reagan has been exposed to Covid19, so she got tested today. She received As and Bs for second semester, making her first year at MTSU a success; you know, except for the fact that the campus closed and everyone had to finish the semester online. We’re all wondering if she’ll be moving into a dorm again in a few months, or forced to stay home and take more online courses. Pierce hasn’t left the house in about 10 weeks. We were all looking forward to his final year of participating in Special Olympics with Brentwood High, but it wasn’t meant to be. Tonight, we should be at a graduation ceremony for all of the Transition 2 kids in Williamson County who, like Pierce, have aged out of the system. Now we’re hoping to try this again in July. I’m heartbroken for all of the seniors and their parents that have had their lasts taken away. In a smaller way, I am feeling their pain. I’m still working about 50 hours a week, but most of the Bates staff is feeling a little less underwater now. We’ve passed the peak of the spring season, and we’re coasting into summer. I discovered this broken tooth that has been given both a crown and a root canal is cracked worse than we originally thought and has to come out. Looks like I’ll have some oral surgery in my near future which is swell. At least I’ve had this to be happy about:
My name and words in print!
My mental health isn’t in the dumpster, but I’m not feeling my best. My efforts to avoid burnout at work haven’t been a total success, and we’re quickly reaching the slow hot days of summer in the greenhouse. There will be less trucks to unload, so my focus will turn to keeping what we have looking good and marketable. This means hours of standing in one place cleaning and fertilizing the plants that are languishing on our tables. At home, I miss being alone so much, I almost ache; I haven’t felt this way since the first few days I got back from sabbatical. I love my people, but I need them to go away every now and then; which of course is not an easy option right now. As I write this, the kids are in their rooms, while the dog is next to me on the couch and her snoring is driving me nuts. When Tim gets home, he’ll watch some videos on his phone…with sound. THE NERVE. I go outside to work in my garden, and the two kids next door are screaming at each other or being screamed at by their parents. I know, I know; first world problems. It just feels like the world is so loud right now, even though so many of us are staying home. I can’t think clearly. I haven’t been writing much of anything lately, which is frustrating but not uncommon, according to the Twitter accounts of some authors I follow. I had all of this momentum when I got home from Miami, then the world had different plans. In February, I felt like I was finally being unboxed, but now it’s May and I feel like I’ve been stuffed back into that box again. I’m so desperate to be the woman that I was 3 months ago, and I’m terrified I’ll never be able to find her again. Though the country is reopening, the future is still so uncertain. I am a list-maker and I NEED A PLAN, PEOPLE.
This is probably senseless babble and not at all the life-giving post you may have been hoping for. In case you weren’t aware, I’m not superhuman. I can’t keep up the positivity indefinitely. I was planning to post something about parenting a typical kid, specifically a daughter. However, I’m realizing that I’ll need more than a blog post to say all the things I want to say. I’ll just save it for a chapter in my book…that I hope to finish writing…someday…
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