Fall Broken

I think I understand why some successful writers live isolated existences -- sometimes estranged from their loved ones. They probably told a few too many people to shut up and go away.

People, in general, don’t like that. People who are your children and husband really don’t like that. I consider us all fortunate that I have managed not to say anything that will permanently damage my family’s spirits or sense of self-worth over the last three days – these glorious days of Fall Break.  

Aside from my laptop, my desk (the kitchen table) contains the following items: a Christmas-themed coffee mug filled with writing instruments, my candle, a bowl of artsy-fartsy inspirational items (like rocks, shells, and foreign coins), my coffee cup, and this:

Which I only use ironically. It gets pushed after I’ve completed something difficult or deficient. It also gets pressed when I have to walk away and give up. It’s been pushed about 100 times over the last week. A new record.

I must admit I have had unkind thoughts about the little cherubs to whom I gave life this week. More than once I have fought the urge to scream STOP TALKING, or MAKE YOUR OWN LUNCH, or DON’T BREATHE ON THE BACK OF MY HEAD. They discovered my “secret” workspace under the stairs, therefore, any success I have in there requires a bargaining session to ensure that I will be able to work uninterrupted. And if I must bargain for some quiet, I’m going to bargain for quiet with natural light and a comfortable chair. So I’ve found myself – for now – in the guest room sitting on a couch that needs new cushions and a slipcover beside a small window. And my laptop is atop my lap.

Fall Break isn’t a bed of roses for everyone…unless your blanket is made of thorns. It may be worse my generation and people older because there was no such thing when we were growing up. In the fall, we got out of school on Columbus Day and 2 days at Thanksgiving (I’m not sure how we ever managed without the day before Thanksgiving too -- it’s like we were indentured servants) and then by the time we got to Winter Break (which we called Christmas break because we didn’t care about things like inclusivity) we were SO. VERY. THANKFUL. By the time my kids to get Winter Break now, they’ve already had at least 3 mini breaks. There is no gratitude.

Fall Break is also a bummer because it arrives at about the same time that I finally feel like I have a modicum of control over the weekly schedule. It takes me that long to settle in. And then Fall Break lands on my calendar. It’s like when you go to the beach and you spread out your towel on the sand. You put on some sunscreen and your big hat and you make a little cup holder for your beverage right next to the towel. You stretch out with a great book in your hand and begin to read it, but just as you get to the end of the first page, someone comes and dumps a bucket of wet sand on you.

That’s Fall Break…a bucket of wet sand on my clean dry towel and my book.

For a parent who works from home, Fall Break can be a forced, unpaid leave-of-absence. There are choices to be made and none of them feel quite right. Fall Break is guilt because you’re in the same building with your kids (the home you all share) but you’re ignoring them. And then if you decide to spend time with them, there’s guilt because you’re not getting your work done. It’s starting and stopping and then having to go back and figure out where you were and then restarting just in time to be interrupted again. It’s having brilliant ideas while playing a game of checkers and then forgetting those ideas by the time you can get to your laptop. Fall Break is mayonnaise on your keyboard because you tried to make a sandwich between paragraphs. It’s the sounds of scotch tape and tearing paper coming from the other room that you know are resulting in a mess that will have to be cleaned up…and only after an argument. It’s all the work you have to do from day-to-day done under a heavy blanket of regret over not enjoying this “vacation” with your children.

Fall Break ends up being too much TV and too many video games and not enough time outside. It’s hearing about all the kids with regular parents who take them to the beach or to Europe or to New York or hiking the Appalachian Trail. And it’s questions everyday about why I don’t have a real job.

And that stings.

But here’s the upside of Fall Break – you can’t always get your blog posts finished in one day and in the 12+ hours that elapse, you discover the silver lining in your cloud. Which is what happened to me since I wrote what you just read.

Fall Break is also the following:

A 30-minute conversation with your 13-year-old about what the largest puppet in the world is. Is it Mr. Snuffleupagus (whose first name is Aloysius) or Big Bird? And are they puppets or are they costumes? And do those giant balloons in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade count as puppets because they are controlled by string? If we include them, one of those would surely be largest? And are we forgetting any puppets? I had to admit to him that I hadn’t spent a great deal of time considering this question and that it was a clear oversight on my part. Fall Break gave us time to ponder this very important question and others like it.

I was also granted a double-edged sword type of opportunity. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that my 14-year-old daughter actually knows the name of an NBA player that does not play for the Memphis Grizzlies. I was so proud and happy because for a moment I believed that she had taken an interest in something that her younger brother loved and that one day they would bond over this and be BFFs. But this moment was tempered by the realization that the reason she knew Lamar Odom was because he was married to Khloe Kardashian.

And then I had to explain to both of my kids what a brothel was.

But…silver lining…I got to explain instead of some middle school or high school kids who wouldn’t have had any interest in turning it into a conversation. My kids would have probably preferred that I not turn it into a conversation, truth be known, but I don’t really care. And now they know (in age-appropriate language) what a brothel is and also that the sex industry is predatory and unhealthy for those who work in it. I have NO GUILT WHATSOEVER about brainwashing them where this subject is concerned.

And then there was the hour-long conversation I had with my daughter about government and politics, racial inequality and social justice, and other issues in the news – including that ways in which the media’s agenda can distort our view of what’s going on in our country and in the world both intentionally and unintentionally. This conversation was mostly me listening and her talking. She has a wonderful world history teacher who discusses things that happened in history but on how those things are related to current events. I was given the chance to hear her developing her own thoughts…real thoughts…and I could ask her questions and watch her process them. It was as stunning to me as a panoramic sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean or the breathtaking view from the base of the Washington Monument.

It was all good and then afterward, they let me sit down and do my thing.

I’m not naïve enough to believe that this is a sure-fire answer for work-at-home parents on Fall Break, because I also believe this to be true:

But for today – I have it figured out and today is all I have to worry about right now.

Because we are on Fall Break.