Skip to main content

Yin and Yang -- Disney and Fire


The girls and I are on the highway headed to school and work. Up ahead, it’s dark on the other side of the mountain. I get a phone call from Michael.

“UCSD is closed, so you should turn around and come home.”

“Really? OK, I’ll see soon.” I hang up the phone.

“OK girls, see how ‘foggy’ it is up ahead? That’s smoke. Remember all the fires we saw on TV? Well, because of all the smoke, school and work are closed today.”

“Are they on fire?”

“No, but the air quality is bad -- it’s hard to breath. So we’re going back home.”

“Mommy, why don’t you turn around now?”

“Well, we’re on the highway, so I have to look for a road so I can turn around safely.”

I find the road and turn around safely.

“Mommy, why are we turning around?”

“Because we’re going back home.”

“Mommy, why are you driving us in circles?”

Oh, I don’t know. To burn off some of this cheap gasoline? To make Samantha car sick? Because I’m bored?

“We’re going back home, honey.” And we do.

In San Diego, we don’t have snow days, we have fire days. A few years ago during the Cedar Fire, we awoke to a gentle “ashfall” -- large flakes of ash fell to the ground like snowflakes. Schools closed; parents and kids stayed home. But instead of rushing outside to make snow angels, everyone stayed inside to avoid the intense smell of smoke and burning wood.

So far, we have no ash falling in our neighborhood because we’re right in the middle of fires that rage to the North and South from the Witch Creek and Harris Fires. But we have friends who have been ordered to evacuate and friends of friends who’ve lost their homes. Everyone is on high alert. It’s very windy outside, and very dry. The girls’ hair either clings to their cheeks or sticks out in wild angles. Green sparks alight in their sheets when they turn over. Not a good recipe for the days ahead.

We just found out that school and work will be closed again tomorrow. Definitely a mixed blessing. It’s nice to be home with the girls, but of course we feel bad for the opportunity. This afternoon a neighbor dropped by to see if we had any spares - spare pillows, blankets, snacks. I was able to provide fruit bars and rawhide bones. I figured no one would want our drool-stained pillows -- my neighbor agreed.

San Diego residents are encouraged to stay off the streets. A scrolling message on our TV reads: Children should not play outside today. So indoors we stayed. On the weekends, we head out -- we get groceries, visit friends, go to the park. But not today. Which leads me to this important question: do you guys have any advice for a bunch of stir-crazy kids and their parents? What can we do that doesn’t involve going outside, baking, or making crafts? (I mean, I have my limits...) Until I hear back from you, we’ll be painting, reading stories, and watching a lot of Disney movies...

And that’s our day. I’m happy we’re safe and together, but I’m sad to see homes burning on TV and people (and pets) living in makeshift shelters. I’m happy to spend a lazy day with the girls, being bored, taking naps, and eating soup. But I’m sad to learn that my friends are displaced and local hospitals are overwhelmed.

It’s been one of those extreme yin-yang days where the good makes the bad even worse... and vice versa.




Previous Comments

 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Score One for the Bad Guys

Apparently, Lizzy and Samantha have a soft spot in their hearts for the bad guys. After all, in their world the bad guys always get shot, beaten, or killed by super heroes, they always land in jail, and they’re never attractive. So when I heard strange phrases in hushed tones coming from the toy room the other day, phrases like, take off his clothes ... and hand me that bug ... and, put that on his vagina , I had to ask: What is going on in there?! After some debate between the two of them (n o, don’t tell mommy ... it’s OK, just don’t tell daddy ... and so on) they finally fessed up that they were playing a game with Barbies and other creatures wherein the bad guys win. Here’s how it works: In this game, the bad guys torture the good guys by making them take off all their clothes and then placing mind-controlling bugs on their vaginas . The bugs contain a virus that infects their hosts, thus enabling the bad guys to control the actions and behaviors of the good guys. Ergo, the b

About This Blog

Right off the top, it's a goofy name. I was looking for a new name for my blog, and then one morning I had the following exchange with my husband. We were taking our daughter to preschool and found ourselves following a well-dressed mom wearing a cute little skirt and high heels. I tilted my head to one side like a puppy noticing something strange for the first time. Michael also tilted his head, but was thinking of something else. "How come you don't wear skirts and high heels to work?" he asked. "She must be freezing. It doesn't seem practical." "She doesn't seem to mind." "I suppose not." Two heads tilt to the other side. "Oh well, I guess I'm more of a cords and fleece kind of girl." Two heads straighten. And there you have it -- a blog title based entirely on what I like to wear in the wintertime. Talk about impractical. The former title was Domestic Irritation. I liked that title a lot -- i

Got No Class, Got No Clue

Soccer, kung fu, or gymnastics? Art, piano, or dance? Fencing? I want to enroll Elizabeth in some sort of class, but it's just not going well. I'm not sure if the problem is me... OK, it is me . Take ME out of the equation and the "problem" magically disappears. Lizzy is just not interested in joining a team or taking a class, and Michael isn't keen to sign her up (and thus spend money) for a class she won't enjoy or may not participate in fully. He has a point. We enrolled her in soccer last year, and while most kids ran up and down the field kicking their balls, Lizzy stopped to examine a flower. When the kids stood in "ready position" (standing in line with one foot atop their soccer balls), she sat on her ball at the end of the line. While other kids weaved their balls around little orange traffic cones, Lizzy picked up a cone, turned it upside, placed her soccer ball on top of it, and pretended to lick it like an ice cream cone. That is Lizzy i