The Tenth Good Thing About Max

In fall of 2020, in the thick of the pandemic, I brought Max to the vet because his behavior had suddenly changed. He was not even interested in treats! The vet ran all the lab tests possible and did not detect anything so we didn’t know what was wrong. I thought it might have been caused by a new food so we changed his diet back. A few weeks later I noticed a lump on his jaw. When the vet determined that the lump was an aggressive, inoperable cancer, we decided to take Max home to enjoy the time he had left. Over the next few weeks, Max was a good sport about taking painkillers and spent quality time sitting in windows and getting brushed and pet. I appreciated the time I got to spend with him until the lump got so big that he could no longer eat, and it was time to let him go. Though I had some challenging times with Max in the past, he had been my sweet buddy for the past few years, and it was hard to say goodbye to my Skippyjon Jones book kitty. 

The book The Tenth Good Thing About Barney by Judith Viorst is about a little boy who shares ten good things about his cat Barney at the cat’s funeral. Here are Ten Good Things About Max.

The first good thing about Max is that he survived. His mother abandoned him on my driveway on Mother’s Day 2010. I don’t know how long he lay there alone on the very hot cement, but he was barely moving when I picked him up. I didn’t want to keep him because I had never fostered newborn kittens before, but nobody else would take him. By the time somebody offered, we were all too attached to give him away. We kept him in a box with a heating pad and gave him formula. At first we had to use a dropper because the bottle that came with the formula was too big for his tiny mouth. He fit in the palm of my hand. I had to wipe his little bottom after every meal just like his mother would have, and I learned that mama cats are amazing because I could use cotton balls or paper towels- but they use their tongues. Sometimes I had to clean him in the sink if it was really bad. He didn’t like that. But… he survived.

The second good thing about Max is that he stopped spraying. He started when he was 5. He and his brother sprayed in the house and it was awful. After many months of trying calming collars & plugins, the vet prescribed kitty Prozac. First it was in edible treats that they refused to eat, then we tried liquid which they hated. The final time I brought them in because of the spraying, the vet was surprised I was still trying. She said that most people would have gotten rid of the cats by this point. But I had raised them from babies. Did she have any other options? She gave me the drugs in a cream. Every day I put on a glove and rubbed the cream into their ear. It helped a little. Eventually 3 things happened and the spraying completely stopped: Max stopped going outside, the house got renovated so all the flooring, walls & furniture that had been sprayed on was gone, and his brother went to live somewhere else. Max was a different cat when he wasn’t around his dominant brother.

The third good thing about Max was that every time I walked to the bedroom he ran ahead of me to jump onto the bathroom sink hoping to drink out of it. He had me well trained.

He liked drinking out of the kitchen sink, too.

The fourth good thing about Max is that while he drank out of the sink, he let me brush his fur. It became our daily ritual. I realized something was wrong with him when he stopped running into the bathroom and wanting to be brushed at the sink.

The fifth good thing about Max was that he was beautiful. 

The sixth good thing about Max was that he was oddly light & flexible. We think he was a Ragdoll breed because he was floppy, like he had no bones. It was super cute the way he would lay on the arm of the couch, or lay on his back all spread-eagle on the floor- his Pet Me Please pose. Max liked to be held like a baby. He barely weighed anything, but you had to be standing while you held him or he would want to get down. He was not a lap cat. 

Except at bedtime. The seventh good thing about Max is that he liked to sit on me at night in bed and let me pet him while he purred.

The eighth good thing about Max is that he was kind to all people and animals. If you were holding him and he didn’t like it, he never used his claws or teeth on you. While his brother fought the neighbor cats, Max hung out with them. He even got along with Chuck’s cat Bebe, who somehow tore the corner of his ear, though Chuck reminds me that I’ve never been able to prove that Bebe did it. 

The ninth good thing about Max was how he liked to eat with his paws. It was so dainty. If we left food or drinks out, he would put his paw in for a taste. He really liked coffee. Chuck learned that the hard way. This probably doesn’t seem like a good thing, but I loved that about him. It was quirky. It was Max. It is weird to me now, that I can set my coffee down anywhere and not have to keep it away from Max. 

At the end, the lump on his jaw made it hard to eat. He still would dip his paw in and try to lick it. But, he could no longer lick it well, or clean himself. I was reminded of his kittenhood, when we would make trips to the sink to clean him. Back to the beginning, at the end. 

I am grateful that I had a few weeks after the diagnosis, to spend time with him and say goodbye. It was hard to let him go. To know that I would never again pick him up and touch his soft fur, or see him jump up on the sink for a drink or scratch on his scratching post. The tenth good thing about Max is, I had ten years with him. And he is no longer suffering.

Tragedy of the Commons

As I think, “It’s all the Tragedy of the Commons” I imagine my children rolling their eyes. It’s a concept I explained to them when they were young but I haven’t thought of it in a while. 

The Tragedy of the Commons has fascinated me since I learned about it 30 years ago through a computer simulation. We all were fishermen who were only supposed to fish a certain amount. But somebody always caught extra, depleting the fish to the point where there weren’t any fish for any of us- even those of us who followed the rules. 

The Tragedy of the Commons is an old concept. It’s a human concept. Individual self-interest vs collective good.

What got me thinking about this, on New Year’s Day?

Fireworks. At the end of the weirdest year of my lifetime, it was New Year’s Eve fireworks that triggered this epiphany. This morning we are experiencing hazardous pollution levels in large part from fireworks & fireplaces - both illegal, as yesterday was a “no-burn” day. Yet, individual people chose to burn a fire in their fireplace, or set off fireworks. Alone, there would be little harm. But collectively, these individual choices affect all of us. It’s a beautiful day in Tempe, Arizona but officials recommend that we stay indoors for our health. 

There are many other examples of the Tragedy of Commons last year. We saw it in the incredibly high numbers of Covid illnesses and deaths throughout our country. If just one person chose to ignore recommendations and have a large maskless gathering, it wouldn’t be a problem. The rest of us being careful would mitigate the spread. But when many people make those choices, it affects all of us. They think it’s their individual choice, their right, and only affects them. But we all bear the consequences, including more chances to get sick and less availability of medical care. 

We see it in the underlying, widespread problem of racism. One person having biases, enjoying their privilege, and ignoring the suffering of millions, would not be a problem. But when many of us blow it off, deny it, choose not to learn how to change… we have systemic societal problems. 

In 2021, I am going to keep in mind the Tragedy of the Commons. I am not just one. My actions affect others. What can little ‘ol me do to contribute to a healthy society? A lot. I resolve to:

• Wear a mask in public
• Avoid in-person contact with other people as much as possible until the spread of Covid-19 is under control
• Take care of my health
• Learn how to recognize & overcome my underlying biases 
• Learn about the experiences of others who are different from me
• Use my privilege to promote positive change and support those with less privilege 
• Not set off fireworks
• Not use my fireplace on no-burn days
• Reduce/Reuse/Recycle
• Fact check before I share
• Be kind & forgiving, to myself and others 
• Vote 

I am imagining a world where every person resolved to do this. 

Wow. 

To sleep and dream of video calls

Today was exhausting. 

Today was satisfying. 

Today I felt like crying. 

Today I smiled a lot. 

Today I taught teachers how to make a link on a Google Doc for the first time. Teachers that have never taught with technology before. They also learned how to setup & manage video meetings with their students. And how to share their welcome letter digitally via a robust learning management system. 

It’s a lot to learn. 

Today I helped a principal manage the sudden absence of a teacher during virtual learning. You can’t just send a sub to their classroom. There is no sub. And you need edit access to a virtual classroom. You need to share another teacher’s meeting link there. You need to know how to get that link. And edit the virtual classroom to let the kindergartners and their families know how to see their alternate teacher for today who is kindly taking on twice the kids on her 4th day of virtual teaching. 

It’s a lot to manage. 

Today I explored options for virtual communication and assignments with a very tech-savvy teacher. How to leverage different tools for different situations. That was fun! But I had to keep in mind that the teachers she works with are not experienced with technology like she is and they would also need to use these tools. 

It’s a lot of options. 

Today I figured out how a teacher could add an alternate host to her class meetings and also showed her how to set them up to repeat so she wouldn’t have to keep making new ones every day. 

It’s those little details. 

Today I explained to a teacher how to setup her virtual classroom and meetings to meet all the individualized needs and schedules of her students with learning disabilities. 

It’s a lot to figure out. 

Today I helped a lot of people. But I also couldn’t help some people. Some issues remain a mystery to be solved. Some have to be referred to the help desk. I don’t like to do that because the help desk is only 5 amazingly patient people who are working 14-hour days and weekends to provide support for over 70,000 people. Every time I think about that I cry a little. 

Every time I have to decline phone calls from desperate parents who are calling my department because the help desk is overloaded, I try not to cry. On the first day of school I answered if I wasn’t on a video meeting answering questions for a teacher or staff. Some I could help. Some I couldn’t. I’m not the I.T. department. My job is to coach teachers. I learned quickly that if I answered these calls I could not respond to my teachers who need support. 

It can be frustrating. 

Today I learned a lot. I have to learn so I can solve problems and teach others so they can do their jobs. I don’t know all the answers. I desperately want to know all the answers so everybody can have a smooth learning experience: students, teachers, staff, families. 

I will never know all the answers. 

The questions are constantly changing. 

And I think my brain is full. 

This is keeping me up tonight. After the most exhausting week of my 27 year teaching career, I cannot turn off my overwrought brain. When I finally sleep, I will work all night in my dreams. 

Monday-Friday I wake up from dreams where I’m explaining how to do something on the computer screen. Then I turn on the computer and face the screen for ten hours. Most of the day is spent on video calls with teachers. They share their screen and we walk through whatever they need to do or learn. We troubleshoot. We figure things out. We learn. I get to interact with amazing teachers who are working so hard to meet their students needs during remote learning. They inspire me. They are amazing. Every single person has been kind and patient with me. Even when I can’t respond to their chat or email right away because I’m buried in chats, emails & meetings. Even when I cannot answer their question or fix their problem.They are experiencing the most stressful experience of their teaching careers. We all are. And not one person has taken this out on me. Not one!  

In fact, I have heard some wonderful things this week while we are all exhausted and overloaded and learning at 200 miles an hour. 

I’ve heard teachers share that they actually love our new learning management system, the new one they had to learn right after they learned a different one in the Spring. 

I’ve heard wonderful stories about video teaching experiences. Of classes dancing & singing together. Of young students who want to give their class a tour of their house, to the chagrin of parents & teacher. I’ve heard many teachers share how happy they are with the connections they have made with their students and families. And how they have been able to connect with students wherever they are, even if they are far away in another state. There is a lot to celebrate & I am trying to focus on the positive. 

It’s amazing what we can do with this technology. 

And it’s overwhelming what we can do with this technology.  

I want to sleep. But I don’t want to dream about video calls  

Appreciation Day

I appreciate Chuck every day, and even more when he’s out of town. Today Jaron wasn’t feeling well and needed to be picked up, and he would have called Chuck if he were here. Chuck would have taken him to his dentist appointment too. Since he works from home he would have been home with Jaron while I was at work and I wouldn’t have worried about Jaron being home alone. I will appreciate that more after today. 

At work I support six schools but the majority of my time is spent at my old junior high school, where I share a room with 3 other people. Today one of them told me about the lock down drill he experienced the day before. Our room has a glass wall so you can see through to the hallway. This is not safe in an active shooter situation since they can see into the room. As a result, he wasn’t sure where to go and ended up in a classroom across the hall. If someone had actually been in the hall with a gun that would not have been possible. There are other glass-walled rooms on campus and we wondered what they do. I told him about a real lock down the year before when the person with a gun on campus was not in the building so I was able to go into the hall to another room. 

Shortly after this discussion was over, a group of 6 men, including the school police officer, stood in the hall where we could see them looking at our glass wall and talking. One came in to ask us what the room was used for, who is usually in it and what do we do during a lockdown. Then a couple of the men measured the glass. I assume they are either replacing it with bullet-proof glass like what was recently installed around the library, or putting mirrored film over it so you can’t see inside. 

My heart was heavy, seeing how this school has transformed. When I was a student here it was a completely open floor plan that didn’t even have doors. Now it’s a fortress complete with high locked perimeter fencing, closed and locked classroom doors, & bulletproof glass. 

After work, I took Jaron to the dentist & talked with my mom on the phone while his teeth got cleaned. She recently has been dealing with a health issue but was feeling better today. Jaron didn’t have any new cavities. 

Back at home I walked my dog, Lucy. She’s friendly and likes to say hi to other dogs. She sniffed a hello to a dog about her size who was on a leash held by a young woman. Suddenly the dog was loose and attacking Lucy! I kept trying to pull her away from it but it was relentless and the owner seemed frozen. She just stood there while I screamed for her to get her dog off Lucy, who was fighting back, and it was terrifying. As I yelled at the dog to stop and the girl to control it, Lucy’s collar slid off and she was off leash too. This ended up helping as I now had both hands free to grab the other dog’s collar and pull it off Lucy, & the fight was suddenly over. The young woman put the harness back on her dog, incredulous that it had come off, while I checked Lucy for wounds. I didn’t see any, but the other dog was bleeding behind its ear. I offered to the girl to clean the wound at our house which is very close but hers was too and we parted ways, shaken & shocked. 

Back home Lucy seemed okay but I checked her again and found a puncture wound on her chest. Worry!! What to do? She let me clean it with soap/water, then peroxide, then antibacterial ointment. Again I appreciated Chuck who couldn’t help me in person but called and talked with me as I took care of her wound. 

When Lucy was all cleaned up and settled it was time to go to a birthday dinner. I felt bad leaving Lucy & thought about not going but didn’t want to miss celebrating with a very dear friend. After spending time with 3 amazing ladies, I appreciated that they are in my life, particularly the birthday girl who was diagnosed with breast cancer ten years ago. I am so grateful and lucky that she is now cancer-free and still in my life. 

I came home to a happy dog and a sleeping son. Lucy seems fine. I’ll keep an eye on her wound and take her to the vet if it gets worse. 

Finally I appreciate that though it’s the end of a day that was a lot more stressful than usual, and my throat is still a little raw from yelling during the dog fight, I feel calm, and didn’t drink or stress-eat. I’m grateful for that, and that Jaron is feeling better & his teeth are good. My mom is feeling better. Lucy seems okay. I got to spend time with friends. And Chuck is coming home tomorrow. 

Max aka Skippyjon Jones is sitting on me and purring while I write this. I appreciate him, too. Even though he vomited on my comforter. ❤️

What I know about suicide

I've been avoiding social media since the recent celebrity suicides. It's hard for me to see the posts. I think that most people, upon hearing the news, immediately think, "If only they had somebody to talk to, who could have helped them, this tragedy could have been avoided." But I don't think that. I know that sometimes, a person can have all the help and support in the world and cannot escape their pain.

I don't feel this way myself. I'm lucky. But one of my earliest memories is visiting my father at the mental hospital. I was so young, I remember fuzzy, odd little details: orange shag carpet; the moccasins my father made (though I never saw them again once he was back home); and bagel chips in the cafeteria. Over the years, he saw a lot of people and tried a lot of medications to help with his depression. He even tried shock therapy. Some treatments worked for a while, but never for long. There were many threats of suicide that he never went through with, until finally, he did.

Your first thought, upon hearing this, is most likely: Why didn't you stop him? When my mother told me that he was very depressed again and talking about wanting to die, I tried. We all did. I sat down with him and told him that I loved him and wanted him here with me, and he didn't respond. Isn't that enough for you? I begged. Can't you stay here for us? No, he admitted. He sounded empty.

He was in his 50's and had been hurting for 20 years, since I was a child. He had been like this for so long, on and off, with ups and downs, that I hoped this would pass, like all the other times.

I missed the call from my mother because I was at a night class, a new teacher working towards my master's degree. To this day I regret that I missed it because by the time I got to her house, he had already been taken away. Their longtime neighbor & friend, Gloria, was there with my mom after she found him, and she told me that she had never seen my dad look so peaceful. I would have liked to have seen him finally at peace.

So, having experienced somebody I loved end their own suffering after years of enduring it, when I hear about an older person taking their own life, I don't feel regret that somebody didn't intervene. I don't think, If only somebody had been there for them. I know that for some people, it's not a temporary depression, a rough spot, something they will get over with help. Therapy and drugs, while wonderful for many people, don't help everyone.

I do feel sympathy for the loved ones who are left behind to grieve and deal with all the emotions and issues that come in the aftermath. I feel so sad for that loss that the living have to endure. But I don't ever think, if only somebody could have stopped them. Because there is a good chance that people tried. From my dad, I learned that some people cannot be saved. After he died, I was devastated. Him taking his life was selfish. But me expecting him to stay, when he was in such pain, was also selfish. For 20 years he had tried every kind of therapy and drug available to him. In his last years he had even set up a home gym and gotten into the best physical shape in his life, and gone back to school and earned a master's degree to finally live out his dream of being an audiologist. He did everything he could to feel good, and it didn't work. So he made his choice.

I think, sometimes, we forget. We want people so badly to be here, that we forget that it's their life. We don't know what it's like for them. We don't know the pain they are in. We don't know how many years they have been suffering.

Now, when it comes to teen suicides, I feel completely different. When teens and young adults take their life, it is extra tragic because they didn't give their life a chance to get better, as it most likely would have. It's probably safe to say that we all suffered when we were teens, but it got better. With time, most pain in life gets better.

On this blog, I connect books I have read to my topics. And I realize that all of the fiction books that I have read on the topic of suicide are about teen suicide, probably because I read a lot of YA fiction. Note to self: read more "grown-up" books.

I've always thought about writing a book from the point of view of a teenager living with a suicidal parent, because I've never read that before. The closest I've come to a book like that is reading Tom Leveen's Zero. The parents have serious issues but are not suicidal. Another of his amazing books, Random, is actually about suicide. If you haven't read Tom's books, you should. And if you are a teen reading this, life DOES get better! Please ask for help.

Grief

There are a lot of good books that have characters dealing with death and loss. Like Please Ignore Vera Dietz by A.S. King. And The Life of Glass by Jillian Cantor. Or Revolution by Jennifer Donnelly. Unfortunately reading a lot of books didn't prepare me for Real Life.

                

I should have remembered how grief sneaks back up on you when you least expect it. Years ago, many months after my dad died, I thought I had overcome the grief until one day I suddenly started crying again.  I remember being shocked by the strong feelings that overcame me so long after the loss. It's normal but it really, really stinks.

So I thought I was okay after I made it through December feeling positive after turning 40, losing my grandmother, and dealing with the holidays while getting divorced with kids. Then, as the new year began, so did the sadness. Reality snuck up and bashed me over the head. Surprise, surprise!

It started when I helped my mom move my grandmother's belongings out of her home so she could sell it. It got pretty bad when I had to go to my grandmother's house for the very last time. Two days later, my divorce became final. Two weeks later came the lowest point: Valentine's Day. I am used to spending it with my family. Last year I cooked dinner and my kids and my grandmother were with me. This year I faced the reality that I will never cook dinner for my grandmother again, and I was alone on Valentine's Day without my children. Everything had changed. It was harsh. And it felt like it would never get any better.

Of course, it did get better. There was light at the end of the tunnel. In time, hopefulness snuck back in. And my pets helped me get through, especially on the days that I didn't have my kids. It's hard to feel sad when a cat is purring or a dog looks at you with big, sweet eyes.

Now that I am dealing with my grief better, I've been contemplating the grief that I know I will feel in the future. A friend of mine had a sweet cat who recently passed away, and it is sad to see her so heartbroken. Other friends have dogs and cats who are aging and ill, and I know too many people who have recently lost their pets. Seeing their pain makes me dread the day that this will happen to me. And it made me question my decision to have pets. I know I will have to say goodbye to them someday. When we love pets (or people), we open ourselves up to be hurt. So why love and care when it is guaranteed to bring pain? I think, because whether with pets or people, relationships enrich our lives. If we don't care about others we are not truly living. I have thought about this a lot since going through divorce. It is natural to want to avoid going through pain again. But I don't want to live my life in fear of it. Pets and people bring joy to my life, and I think that's worth it. They bring challenges too, but I can't close myself off because of it. It took six months but I can finally look at my dog and admit that I love her. Why was that so hard?

Because those we care about the most are the ones that can cause us the most pain.

And that is scary.

In spite of it, I am choosing to let myself love my pets and enjoy the time I have with them. Even though they knock over cups and drink my coffee and chew up cable remotes and make messes on my carpet.

But I'm keeping the cable remote high on a shelf. And replacing the carpet with laminate. Pain may be inevitable, but I'm avoiding it as much as I can.

Mother's Day

Divorce isn't easy, of course, and getting children through it brings on extra challenges. Sharing parenting time can be done, and I think we are pulling it off. But I also think that having my children only half the time has been the hardest thing to adjust to. It really makes me appreciate the time that we have together. That's why this Mother's Day was so special. It started with breakfast in bed and ended with cleaning up vomit, and I appreciated it all.

Luckily it started with breakfast and not barf. My oldest son is an official teenager now, so he slept in. Which worked out really well for me because when he woke up I don't think he realized that his brother had already made me breakfast (yogurt with oats and fruit, carmelized bananas, and coffee- lovely!) so I got to enjoy two breakfasts. It was so great seeing him being independent in the kitchen and experimenting with eggs. Then the boys helped me prepare vegetables for a barbecue at my mom's, and we left to spend the afternoon at Grammy's, eating and swimming. I am glad that we didn't try to do our usual brunch at my house. In past years all the grandmothers would come, and this year it would have been a painful reminder that Nana isn't with us anymore. 

On the ride home I had some Mom Reality: a meltdown because of an upcoming Very Important Math Test. So we did a lot of talking and problem solving. Then some studying at home. At dinner-epiphany! I decided that I should make something that I actually wanted to eat instead of something that the boys will eat, which is usually not anything that I would make for myself. They did not eat my tuna steak with cabbage, even though I thoughtfully left the peanut sauce off of their portions. But I wasn't surprised or offended. Small steps.

At bedtime we enjoyed reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, even though Jaron had terrible hiccups. After trying unsuccessfully to banish them for almost an hour, he tried drinking upside down and actually threw up a little. No problem. Cleaned it up, tucked him in. Hiccups finally went away. Kids in bed, laundry started in the washer, lunches packed.  Not yet time to sleep, first I had homework... watching training videos before volunteering for the 5th grade Junior Achievement Biztown field trip in the morning. I get to chaperone school trips with both of the boys this week. I really feel like a mom today. And I am appreciating it like I never have before. I was so happy by how much I appreciated getting to do mom things like cleaning up vomit, that I was finally inspired to write again. 

Tomorrow the boys will be with their dad after school. I will miss them. Yet I will also appreciate the freedom of having an evening to myself. It's a strange combination of feelings. Months ago I felt much loneliness and guilt when they weren't with me, and that has gotten better with time. Hopefully it will continue to get easier for all of us. And hopefully I will continue to appreciate cleaning up vomit.

I fully admit that I do not feel the same way about cleaning up cat or dog vomit. It's a good thing those animals are so darn cute. And they keep me company when the kids are gone which I truly appreciate especially since I have adopted a new family member. I won't be changing the name of this blog to Book Kitty and Doggy Blog, even though she does look remarkably like Gloria in Officer Buckle and Gloria. 

Officer Buckle says, "Never Stand on a Swivel Chair!"

She even has a red collar. Total coincidence. Really.

 

She is the sweetest dog. Gets along well with the cats. And since she is my first dog, I am trying to learn how to be a good doggy mom which means I'm actually reading some nonfiction...

It is interesting reading. I am learning that dogs are VERY different than cats. But they can get along...

Happy Birthday to the Book Kitties. Their mom left them in my driveway two years ago on Mother's Day. Everything happens for a reason...

Just born. Mother's Day 2010.

Max a.k.a Skippyjon Jones, two years old

Jingle a.k.a Bad Kitty, two years old