Fall 2020

Back to school is always a time of transition, which makes for excitement, uncertainty, highs, and lows. This fall was ripe with the normal September changes and layered with the dumpster fire that is 2020. The first two weeks of virtual school trapped inside with a second grader and kindergartener on two different screens were brutal. None of us knew how to work the technology, and unlike the spring, full participation was both required and very necessary when assessing Owen's skill set. Hazel was stuck inside with all other family members physically present but emotionally unavailable, understandably causing less than ideal behavior. The boys were competitive with each other and jealous when the other had a break, less work, etc. I had a positive attitude going into it and figured if we could get over the hump of the first few weeks, a routine would emerge. After week two my optimism was waning, and I couldn't fathom nine long months of this.

Late September, Wes started in-person school, which is what made the fall manageable in the Rallo household. Eliminating one child and therefore the sibling rivalry gave everyone space to breathe. I've found that with any tough transition, one of the hardest things for me is figuring out when to grocery shop. That struggle continued this fall. I couldn't leave during the day and wanted to avoid taking all three kids into public places as much as possible. When the meal plan is lacking, I know our new normal is shifting.

After mastering the technology and under the direction of a fantastic teacher, Owen began to thrive. At the beginning of the year, it was clear what was lost in first grade. Owen's teacher went out on paternity leave for a month, and the long-term substitute was terrible. He didn't appear to teach the kids anything, and Owen came home at the end of each day a total wreck. Mr. Cleary came back and there were a few months of stability. Then the pandemic hit and the last three months of school were lost. We did the one hour per day of poorly organized lessons provided, but it wasn't much. After the stress of it all, we didn't focus on academics through the summer. Come second grade, Owen was clearly behind. I felt terrible and like I failed him as a mother. I should have had him reading aloud during the summer and made staying on track academically more of a priority. My stress over this was my biggest mom meltdown of the pandemic.

But somehow, despite learning in front of a screen in his room, Owen became a strong reader this fall. One of the biggest gifts that virtual learning gave me was the opportunity to see what was being taught and expand on it. We'd take the skills he'd learned and practice them together. He read for twenty minutes a night without fail. Right after Christmas a switch flipped somewhere in his brain, and he sat down to read an entire chapter book from cover to cover. He made 200 percent of the expected progress for the year in three months. On Zoom.

I am incredibly proud of him and incredibly relieved. Looking back, I still regret not doing more with him earlier on, but I also see the value in establishing a love of reading above all else. The hours spent reading aloud, something he enjoyed, were not in vain. I focused on making reading a positive experience over pushing him to progress because I want his relationship with books to be one of passion, excitement, and curiosity. At the end of the day, semester, year—he can read and his desire for it is intact. I'm deeply grateful for the resilience and capability of the childhood brain.

Meanwhile, Wessy bug did great in kindergarten. Hazel and I found ways to keep her entertained inside. Ty worked from home, which allowed us to have family dinners together nightly. My lack of social engagements felt less significant than I'd anticipated, and we prioritized spending time with extended family.

On January first, I got my first COVID vaccine. On January nineteenth, Owen went back to school in person. January twentieth, Biden was inaugurated, and January twenty-second, I got my second vaccine. The new year feels full of promise for a brighter future. Hazel and I now have the freedom to run errands and meet friends for walks whenever we please. Weekly meal planning has resumed. It's only been a month since we stopped virtual learning, and the memory of it feels faint. My love and appreciation for our teachers and schools have never been stronger.

6-Year-Old Love Letter

My sweet Wessy Bug,

Your 6th birthday is your self-proclaimed triple golden birthday. It's widely acknowledged that turning 6 on the 6th makes it your golden day. You noted that you have 6 letters in your name, creating a third layer to the magic of this particular year. We spent the weekend in Suncadia to celebrate, and it was a wonderful time together as a family.

You love playing Minecraft, doing LEGOs, baking, being outside, remote control cars, riding bikes, and drawing. Your art is one of my all-time favorite things. You're frequently presenting Daddy and me with pictures you've drawn or leaving little illustrations on my bed for me to find. You travel with your notebook so that you can doodle in the car or on vacation. You like watching someone else play Super Mario Odyssey on Netflix. In UNO, if you have good cards and know your victory will make for a short game, you hold them back to keep it going—you'd rather keep playing than win.

Your chubby baby days are behind you, and you're suddenly long and lean. The doctor was concerned that you were too slim at your last appointment, which is laughable because you were such a massive baby. You are a foodie and enthusiastic about which entrees you enjoy. Your favorite dinner is chicken and rice, mainly because of the rice. You're always willing to take an adventure bite, and "joey!" means that you like it.

You love school and consistently try your best when it comes to your work. We got your first report card a few days after your birthday. You did great, but I noted a "needs improvement" in the following school and classroom rules section. My first thought was it had to be a mistake. You are such an obedient child I couldn't fathom you not adhering to the rules. When I followed up with your teacher, she said you often talk when she's teaching or when you're supposed to be working silently. Oh okay, that makes sense. You never stop talking.

A friend recently told me that middle children make the best spouses, and thinking of you I emphatically agreed. Being loving, kind, silly, and accommodating will serve you well no matter your age. You tell me every night that I'm the best mom in the whole world and you couldn't have any mom except me.

Thinking back to the day you were born, there are so many traits that have been there all along. You've always been willing to go with the flow and quick to joy. This is a significant year as you're spending more time with your peers and less time with your family. I pray that no matter how hard it is to be in the world, you can always return home to a space of true love and belonging. You are such a special part of our family, and I love the six-year-old you with all that I have and all that I am.

Happy Birthday, my sweet Wessy bug! May your 6th year be full of loving and learning.

xoxo,
Your loving mama

Thanksgiving 2020

We spent Thanksgiving week 2020 at the Cove with Uncle Chris, Auntie Kari, and the girls. Having them as part of our pandemic bubble has been a true gift, and their space in Eastern Washington is a lovely escape.

Chris and I cooked, we all ate too much corn dip, Steve, Paula, Pam, and Don popped by for a glass of champagne outside, we watched the Macy's parade, Zoomed with my family, and I had fun photographing a few of the kids at the beach.

I find more ways to be thankful every year and am closing out 2020 the same way I began it: grateful.

8-Year-Old Love Letter

My sweet Owen,

I love the 8-year-old you. 

Two years ago I bought you a backpack, packed you a lunch and sent you off to kindergarten. When you confidently climbed on the bus that September morning I thought our weekdays together were something of the past. That expectation was crushed along with many others in 2020. And now here you are, rocking virtual school in the comfort of our home. Wes is attending in person so it's you, Hazel and I during the week. 

As much as we would have all preferred a more typical year, having you home has been an unexpected gift. You have been working hard, responsible and independent doing your virtual learning. With the beginning of second grade, you matured exponentially overnight. You have a fantastic teacher and are making steady academic progress. I enjoy being more involved in your schooling and seeing exactly what and how your teachers instruct you. You've always loved to be home and have truly thrived being remote. Your progress in reading took a real hit in first grade but you've quickly gotten back on track this fall. You love being read to and are becoming a more confident reader on your own. The 13 Story Tree House and Dog Man series have been your most recent favorites. Math comes easily to you. A loving and encouraging teacher is critical to your success. 

In your 7th year, you learned to longboard and wake surf. You discovered Pokemon and Minecraft. Snack plates full of candy are your special thing and you love making them for the family. You get super excited about things and have a hard time waiting. Once a project has started you often lose interest quickly. You love to shop. As the oldest, your mood generally sets the tone for the day. You're still a snuggle bug and need time to connect. You're thoughtful, sensitive and tenderhearted. 

Out of necessity, I've started leaving you home alone for short periods of time. When I first suggested it, you were apprehensive. You told me you weren't comfortable with it and asked if I could drive around the neighborhood for a few minutes so you could see how it felt. I love your intuition and ability to express what you need. I did the neighborhood drive, set you up with a safety plan, and you loved it. Now you tell me I'm free to leave you home alone whenever. Another responsibility and right of passage checked off the list. 

Spending almost every day of the summer with the neighbors you have learned a lot about friendship. You told me one evening that "all friends get in fights sometimes." You've had your share of frustrations and managed it work it out. You've remained neutral when Chris and Ryan are at odds and took a stand when people were getting left out. When there is conflict you perseverate on it and really try to understand why people are acting the way they are. You're doing Jujitsu twice a week and it feels like a natural sport for you.

You strive to be a leader and do the right thing. The extra time at home this past year gave you space to continue building your character influenced by our family values and not cultural norms. I pray that as you continue to grow, you know deep in your soul that you are worthy of love and belonging. As humans we are hardwired for struggle and life won't always be easy. But come what may, we are here to love you, cheer for you and see the best in you. Being your mama is the most sacred gift I've ever been given and I am more grateful for you with every passing year. 

Happy Birthday, my sweet Owen! May year eight be truly great.

xoxo,

Your loving mama 

Halloween 2020

Mandalorian, Special Operations commander and a Unicorn. No contact candy gathering. Sugar highs and excitement abound. 

The day after Halloween, per a dietitians suggestion, Ty and I let them eat as much candy as they wanted. They ate way more than I anticipated but it served the intended purpose. A week later the obsession was gone.

These three, I tell ya. They bring so much joy.

 

The Work of Art

Before I had kids I read a lot about moms losing their sense of self in the process of becoming mothers. Their children so overtook their lives that they reported not knowing who they were anymore. An awareness of that risk made me hyper-vigilant about making time for myself, my marriage and my career post motherhood. The transition was smooth for me and my experience has been quite the contrary. Being a mama has made me a better version of myself and pushed me to create in a whole new way. 

I did a co-op preschool with Owen when he was 18 months old. The philosophy is simultaneous parental education and toddler socialization. Alternating weeks you supervise the toddlers or gather in the corner and engage in conversation with the other moms. My first week on the parent education side, the get to know you question was, "what was your hobby before you had kids?" As people wistfully shared ways they passed their time, it all felt much more exotic than anything I had been doing in my younger years. When the conversation turned to me I talked about doing pilates, traveling and lunching with friends. I've always had a desire to learn and experience new things and have habitually kept my schedule full, but I couldn't identify a real hobby that I loved and remained committed to in my 20's.

I often think back to that conversation because when someone asks me today what my hobbies are I am quick to respond. I love photography, writing, mindfulness and self-help. In addition to motherhood and an almost full-time career as a nurse, I want to be a professional photographer, writer and life coach. Unlike the theme of giving up hobbies post-kids from the moms in that group, motherhood awakened a creativity in me that I didn't know had been dormant all those years. When I held Owen in my arms for the first time the flood of emotion was so powerful that I wanted to find a way to bottle it up and keep it forever. There were so many magical moments that I began to write and photograph as a way to cling onto these days that I knew I would otherwise forget. 

The main way I currently nurture my life coaching goal is listening to podcasts and reading psychology books. I recently listened to one on the stress response cycle and how our modern lifestyle leads to burnout. I learned that there is a difference between a stressor and the stress response. A stressor is something external that causes the stress response-- a chemical stew in your body--which is a cycle and needs to be completed for our bodies to biologically know that we are safe. 

As modern days humans, we need to be intentional about completing that cycle. They listed the seven main ways we can do that. Most of them are pretty instinctual and things we've all heard of- exercise, deep breathing, talk to people, laugh, cry and speak about a loved one. The seventh thing was new to me, though- creative expression. Taking what is inside of you and somehow making it exist outside completes the stress response cycle.

This made me understand in a new way why when I publish a blog post or take a beautiful photo I feel better. Each entry on this blog feels like a small part of my soul in the best way possible. Every time I capture a moment that way I picture it in my head, it makes my heart sing. On my photography website, I wrote "In my career as a pediatric cardiac ICU nurse I witness a lot of heartbreak. Having a creative outlet in which I get to make loving, happy memories live on in a beautiful way is the perfect antidote." When I wrote that I didn't know there was actually a chemical response in my body that makes those words so true. 

Being a mama is hard, holy work and being a nurse carries a heavy emotional burden. The list of things to stress about is long and a propensity towards worry is an easy trap to get caught in. 

And yet. 

Joy and beauty abound. The depth of emotion that motherhood exposes has provided me with more opportunities for growth than I can count. One of the most unexpected gifts has been a fresh understanding of how much power creativity can hold. Anyone who reads my work knows full well that one of my greatest sentiments is gratitude. 

Today I am grateful for a new understanding of the work of art in my life.

***

Exhibit A- Hazel's first dance class. Such a sweet moment with photographs that accurately capture all the feels.