Routine

After Mary and her kindergarten class graced us with the cutest little Thanksgiving concert ...

After we raked leaves ...

After we played in winter's early arrival ...

After we flew to Pittsburgh and rode up the Incline ...

After we played with cousins and shopped with Nana ...

After we carved the Turkey and mashed the potatoes with Opa

After I finished the 1,000 piece Civil War puzzle and we saw two train exhibits ... 

After we flew back to Chicago and then waited an hour and forty five minutes for an Uber to take us home from O'Hare.
Bobby got pink eye.
Then Mary got pink eye.
Then Bobby got a double ear infection.
Then Mary got the single version.
Then Mommy threw up all night long.
Then Mary threw up all night long.
Then Bobby, Daddy and Margaret came along for the ride.
Then Bobby's ear infection didn't heal and he had to go on a different medication portioned in a tonic bottle straight out of a turn of the century pharmacy. Oh and he might get an allergic reaction, so here's some Benadryl. 
Then Margaret got an ear infection. And with it, the runs.
Then I flew to Seattle, loopy and malnourished from not eating in several days, and left Peter and Eva with three kids and a window sill lined with meds and syringes. 

This week, we faced more sickness than health. And I kept thinking to myself, will we make it through?

In times like these I worry a little. I wonder if our household was built strong enough. I question whether I'm a good enough mom. I pray that Peter can handle it all. And I anxiously look forward to when things will just go back to normal - to the routine - to the days I can manage and control.

On my long plane rides to and from Seattle, I thought a lot about our routine. The known, the anticipated, the schedule I've tried to create. And then in actuality, how non-routine our life has become.

Every day seems to bring a new challenge. A missed train and a changed plan. A late meeting and a new logistic. Mama's gone, Daddy's in charge. The nanny's sick, so are the reserves, it's a snow day, trains are down, Mama's working from home, or trying to, Bobby just eat your lunch, take your medicine, you too, no you can't have another chocolate, no Santa is not coming tonight, no you can't watch a show, yes you have to take your nap, everyone please stop fighting, oops I was not on mute. Muting.

There is a lot of literature on the importance of routine for children and families. How kids excel with it. And parents often go to extremes to maintain the integrity and security of their hard wired schedules. Personally, I tend to blame myself for not mastering and maintaining a regimen in our household as well as others. If only it were tighter ... would they eat better, act better, do things without me asking again and again and again?

At the same time, my company has placed significant value on resiliency. At the end of this tumultuous year, we will be evaluated in large part by our adaptability. Employees who were able to navigate the 'change' while remaining highly productive will fair well, the others will flounder. 

So with all the routine everyone preaches, how is anyone supposed to learn resiliency? At school? Not likely. At least, it was never part of my curriculum. But back in the day, I did learn it home.

As much as they could, my parents created a routine for us. However, like Peter and I, they managed a two income household with its share of pivots and changed plans. I had all different kinds of babysitters and care givers growing up - many unique personalities and management styles that I had to win over. I was the first one at school and the last one picked up on multiple occasions - I became adept at calling 1-800 Collect and twiddling my thumbs. When my dad wasn't home, my mom would make something - so I learned to cook at a pretty young age. We all chipped in. We acted like a team - everyone covering for someone when we were a man down. There were evenings when I could tell that a secretary's absence, another on-call night, another week in West Virginia, or a loss of a child at the hospital got the better of our household. I would sit on the steps listening and worrying about the dialogue. But I went to bed knowing there was a strong enough foundation - that love would always mend the emotions in the kitchen.

Which takes me to the most important part of the routine. The must haves in any given day that make a changed plan more manageable. Instead of asking myself did everyone check the boxes? I think the most important things to ask are ... 

Did we give out enough hugs?
Did we say we were sorry, when we needed to be?
Did we do our best at school or at work?
Did we reach out to someone who needed a hand?
Did we say a pray or two or ten?
Did we tell Eva, thank you (a million times over!)? 
Did we tell our kids just how special they are?
And did I tell Peter, how much I love him?

And with that, I will keep telling myself that the combination of routine and resiliency will give our kids a leg up in the end.

After a long week, we woke up on Saturday morning and bought our Christmas tree. We decorated it, hung our wreath, strung our lights, and put the finishing touches over our fireplace. It's officially the Christmas season, but I have one more thank you to share.

Thank you, Mom and Dad. Not only for all the love and support. But for showing me how to keep a household together despite the times when it feels a little fragile.

Lo.