Parenting Through Crisis

We're having cupcakes now!

It’s Wednesday, January 8, and my daughter has thrown up six times since she woke up barfing at 5:30 AM. I’m in a hotel room with her, my husband is down the hall, and considering I was up most of the night tracking the progress of the Palisades fire, and despite the fact that our hotel sheets are covered in throw up, I feel….calm. I have fully disassociated. We’re on our sixth hour of Disney Channel programming, I will take a total of 576 steps all day. It’s day 1 of the crisis, the day after I saw the plumes of smoke first billowing from the hills behind our house (our house is fine), and I’ve already given up. There is no “parenting” there is only staring at the wall. There is only rinsing vomit out of my daughter’s hair. There is only Netflix asking me if we’re still watching and me clicking yes.

Now, it’s Wednesday, January 15, and I’m laying next to my daughter in bed, it’s about 8 at night, and she’s chattering to me while I type. We’re in Palm Springs, and we’ve been here since last Wednesday evening, when we made the call to drive out, at about this same time of day. Our house isn’t in immediate danger, but we still don’t have power, and I don’t think we can use our water, even if we boil it. We are honestly so lucky.