Lisa n Tom (n James n Joseph)

Sunday afternoon:  James is learning to bunny hop on his bike. Joseph's love affair with the skateboard continues. On Wednesday, the neighborhood civic association did a fun thing. They paid for an ice cream truck to go through the neighborhood and pass out ice cream for free to anyone who wanted it. James circled back and hit them up twice. Joseph helped with the laundry. Sort of. On Saturday, Tom took the boys "fishing" (no fish were caught). I think the caption here is "branch manager and assistance branch manager." While I went to Costco. Masks on. One person comes out, one person goes it. Staff were wiping down the carts before handing them to you. People were waiting outside on painted lines six feet apart. All the tables have been removed from the food court. Hot dogs and pizza to go, only. They were out of some things. Most importantly, on Saturday night, right at bedtime, James lost his first to...

Happy Easter! We started the day off with chocolate for breakfast, as is tradition. Then church services streamed on the internet and projected onto our living room wall, as is NOT tradition. Then a walk around the neighborhood while the Easter bunny hid stuff in the backyard. Incredible how nobody ever seems to catch that guy. Mommy tax, kids. There's no gift exclusion on jellybeans. They start off like this (Sunday night): They wake up like this: (Monday morning): James: "That one looks kind of like you. That's the Lisa monster." Tom's old rope was fraying and splintering, so he got a new, longer one. He also cajoled the house painters to install it for him, in case you're wondering how he got it up there.

James: "When quarantine is over, can we get Nutella?" Me: "Yes." James, thinking a bit. "Two of them? I mean, four of them?" Me, thinking a bit: "Yes."

Remember that big, pink dogwood from a couple of weeks ago? This was it on Sunday. But now the crepe myrtles are in bloom. James turned 6. We made a cherry Pikachu cake and cupcakes. He wanted dinosaurs and Pokemon cards for his birthday. He does not have any idea what to do with Pokemon cards, but he got them anyway. Both of the boys have turned in to adrenaline junkies. Here's Joseph's skateboard nose. (Skateboard nose is what happens when you try to stop a skateboard ... with your nose.) And here's his bicycle rodeo trick rider stunt. And here are 5 minutes of James doing bike tricks. The training wheels only came off recently! And several minutes of Joseph doing skateboard tricks while talking to himself. He narrates everything. He also keeps splitting his lip open . He's done it three times in the past week or so. He's started hiding or denying it because he knows I'll stop him from do...

 Monday, March 30, 2020 James writes and dictates: I am 5. My birthday is in eight more days. I'm in kindergarten. My friend is Calvin. My teacher is Miss [Soo] Lee. I go to Kings Park Elementary School. [Note from Lisa: The last day of school was March 12. They thought they'd be out for one or two days for teacher training. Then we thought we'd be out of school for a 14-day quarantine. Then school was cancelled for the rest of the year.] I'm happy school is cancelled for the rest of the year. I don't have to do what the teachers say. Okay, I like recess. I miss my friends. I like going to Miss Sandy's house. [Lisa asks, "Does she make you do homework?"] Yes, of course. I wish I could play with Calvin. ["Anything else?"] That's mostly all. ["Grandma was going to come for your birthday, but now she can't. What do you think about that?"] I wish she could come. ["Have we done anything interested since school's been out...

Yesterday, my friend and former co-worker, Chad, passed away of COVID-19 complications. There have been a couple of moments when the pandemic felt "real," like when I saw the empty shelves at the grocery store, but this is the first time I've felt genuinely scared. Chad was a couple of months older than me. He was a bit overweight, but had no underlying conditions. He wasn't the high-risk category of this chart we've all been seeing for months. He should not have died. And the most awful thing about death in a pandemic? You're quarantined. No one at the bedside. No gathering at the home. No wake. No funeral. No celebration of life. Just everyone, alone, sad, alone. It's kept me up a few nights. But then there's this: