Most of you all know by now, I have alopecia areata. What? You’re bald. Yes. I’m bald.
My kids like to tell me how shiny my head is. Also, lately I have three new hairs on my head, and for some reason my right eyebrow is growing. My eyebrows were microbladed, so the hair is growing over the fake eyebrow.
When I was a kid, I didn’t talk to alopecia with anyone. In fact, if someone brought up the fact I had bald spots I would usually burst into tears or hide. I didn’t understand then that knowledge is power. Plus, I wasn’t completely bald, and I thought a good barrette or ponytail could hide my bald spots. (Pro Tip: They really couldn’t).
I found out about the National Alopecia Areata Foundation as a kid. They offer support for people with alopecias. They hold conferences yearly. I have not yet been to one. They have support groups. I have been to one of those. They also put money toward important research to find a cure for alopecia.
So this month, I’m raising money for the National Alopecia Areata Foundation. That’s right. You can click National Alopecia Areata Foundation and go right to my fundraising page. You can find out more about alopecia areata there as well! This is obviously a cause close to my heart. I would give anything to go back to little Lauren and give her some guidance on how to cope, and NAAF does just that for a lot of children with alopecia.
It’s been about a month since I began writing again. I haven’t started on anything substantial, like a book, or even a short story. For most of my life, I have had this creative need. As a kid, I wrote in journals. I journaled about the food I ate, the mean girls at school, and eventually heartbreak, love, and the journey of life.
Being in COVID quarantine with life not-quite-the-same as before has made me think a lot. I have always been an introspective person and sometimes this is not beneficial. There is a thing calledthinking too much.But, being in COVID has also made me reassess my goals and my wants for my life.
Let me start by saying, I’m a hugely privileged person. I grew up in an upper class white WASP family. I was afford the privilege of private high school, and the privilege to change to another private high school when the first one didn’t quite mean my needs. My college experience was paid for completely by my parents, putting me in the position to graduate without debt, and the ability to live on my own and make a living without the burden of cumbersome student loans. I have had the ability to waffle about my career and my life. I have had the ability to give my kids experiences like six years of gymnastics team, ballet, playing the clarinet. I was able to change career paths at 40, to something more in line with my beliefs, where I felt like I could give back.
Not everyone has these privileges. Not everyone wakes up with two parents who care about them every day and a table full of food. In fact, most people in this world don’t.
When I think about my problems and when I get depressed, I tell myself it’s okay not to be okay. But in general, I feel like my issues are first world problems and white people problems. It doesn’t lessen those problems in my eyes, but it is good to realize ones own privilege and see it for what it is. I have the luxury to wallow in my own self-pity. A lot of people don’t.
This week, I watched in horror as a black man was shot seven times in the back. Actually, I decided not to watch the video, because the video of George Floyd’s death which I accidentally clicked on haunts me to this day. And now, as if to justify it news outlets are saying there was a warrant out for his arrest. And even so, does that give the police a right to act as judge and jury and shoot the man in the back in front of his children? In the very same week, we watched as Kyle Rittenhouse, a 17 year old boy, murdered two people and injured another and walked right by police officers carrying a AR-15. Kyle Rittenhouse had the privilege of walking away, simply because of the color of his skin.
Privilege is a funny thing. It can be used for good and for bad. But one thing has become abundantly clear to me in the last few years as I have had the opportunity to educate myself on issues usually swept under the rug: the people and the government of the United States continues to support people of privilege while suppressing people who aren’t born of the same advantage. This can be seen in public policies, news reports, and in the horrible cases we continue to see in the news.
So one question: will you use your privilege to help others? To change the way the world sees all people? To strive to help black people achieve the change and the justice they so badly need? Be an advocate and an ally. Don’t be a white savior. Be a friend and supportive. Talk to your children about race. Talk to your children about privilege. Make sure they are allies too. And if we all do this and we use our privilege to create real and lasting change, then maybe, just maybe, the future will be a better place for all people to live in. One of acceptance and joy. One where a black man can walk on the street without being afraid of being murdered needlessly by a police man. One where prison sentences aren’t decided based on the color of the skin, but based on the actual crime. One where our kids can play together, help one another, hold hands, and create joy and happiness.
I don’t consider myself adventurous. I mean, I have had some adventures. Remember that time, Rob made me rappel into a Cenote in Mexico? Did I mention I’m afraid of heights?
Adventurous Lauren
Despite my lack of adventurous spirit, the week before school started, I decided it would be fun to take all three kids on a trip to Pisgah National Forest and camp out. Did I mention Rob wouldn’t be there?
We planned a quick trip–just drive up Tuesday, campout, possibly go tubing on the French Broad River, or go to Chimney Rock, then come home the next day. I had Chromebooks to pick up, schedules to view, and virtual open houses to attend at the end of the week for the kids.
We found a campground online called Rocky Bluff Campground. This put us about three hours away from Charlotte, and on the other side of Asheville. The trip there went well. Liam had a slight panic attack on the mountain roads. He doesn’t like heights either. When the GPS told us to turn left into the campground, I wondered how that would happen, since by all appearances we were on the side of a mountain, but the left magically appeared. The campground had wonderful stone work, and flat areas to pitch tents. Plus the other campers were at a safe distance, which also made me happy. The only minus was that we had to walk down stairs to bring all of our items to the campsite.
Also, my lack of camping-by-myself-experience led to some trouble putting up our pop-up tent. But we finally got it up, and we were all proud of ourselves.
Liam was hot and scarred from the drive by this time. Also, our tent platform was located in a shade-free area.
After we set up the tent, we went into town. Hot Springs is known for, well, hot springs. And we didn’t want to go to the springs, because they were in a spa, and also it was like 95 degrees. So instead, I blew money at the local store buying the kids lots of North Carolina, Pisgah National Forest, and AT gear. Plus, Liam purchased a kazoo. Let’s just say that kazoo-player Liam is pretty talented and can match the tune to any song on a three-hour ride home.
Liam in the French Broad River
After the store, we went over to the welcome center. There a nice gentleman told Hailey and I that we could go across the street to find out about tubing, or drive 10 minutes up the road, and over the mountain, to find a trail that would run along the river. We chose the trail and planned on tubing the next morning.
Hailey in the French Broad River
Caden in the French Broad River
After the river adventure, in which I was not adventurous, we headed back to town to see if we could go tubing. We could not. The river was, in fact, too high. I was not upset about this at all. I wanted to go back to the campground to make sure I actually knew how to start a fire. So we made our way back.
When we made it to the campsite, I set up the propane stove and made hot dogs, plus corn. We also ate a lot of junk food, and played Uno about a billion times, while Caden took a nap. Liam was my savior as far as the fire was concerned. He made it, kept up with it, and we even had s’mores.
Liam, the fire starter
Liam, pretty proud of that raging fire!
Then the fun really came. Nothing will make you feel older than sleeping on the floor of a tent. I had a cushion to go under my sleeping bag and everything, but it did not help. First of all, there was a 10 year old who has no clue what personal sleeping space is. And then, Caden kept getting up, because his nap earlier had messed up his bedtime. Then it started pouring. I think I finally fell asleep at 2 AM. And I woke up at 6:30.
When I woke up, so did the kids. And they asked if we could go home. I asked if they wanted to stop at Chimney Rock, and they said no. And you know what, I was okay with that. It made me realize that trips are about the experience, spending time with the kids, and having fun. And camping–it makes you exhausted. I literally spent the rest of that day in bed watching Netflix.
I am hoping in the years to come, when my kids think of this period of COVID-19 and quarantine, they will remember these times we had together. These times I took them on an adventure, and we spent some quality time together. But you know what they’ll probably remember the most? Stopping by McDonald’s on the way home!
First a completely unrelated anecdotal story. Last night, Rob and I went to bed sort of early. Our daughter, H, is a non-sleeper. She’s 10. We used to call her Vampire Chicken Princess — it’s a long story. Anyway, she has been decidedly sleeping on our floor since we moved to Charlotte. We want to start locking the doors.
Imagine it. 2 AM. Sleeping soundly. Dreaming of hot men or ice cream, or whatever floats your boat in a dream. All of a sudden, the light goes on and someone screams, and Rob and I sit straight up and both start screaming, looking back and forth at each other, and then realizing it’s H. I’m guessing she was sleep walking. No idea.
Seas The Day. Seize The Day. Carpe Diem. What does it mean? Certainly not starting your day by waking up screaming at 2 AM.
I began running attempting to run again. The other day, I ran at the greenway, and the whole time I huffed and puffed. I see other runners, and they look like it’s the easiest thing to breathe and run. I can tell you–it is not. Sometimes, they’re not even breaking a sweat. I think these non-breakers of sweat must be some type of new super heroes or something. I certainly do not fit in the same category.
Even though I’m slow and sound like I’m drying when I run, I get a lot out of it. For one thing, it helps me clear my head. When I run, my mind catalogs thoughts and ideas. I notice flowers, trees in blooms, and also the sound of the death rattle in my lungs (ha ha, just kidding). So the other day, when I was jogging, walk/running, dying, I looked over at the fence and found this Seas The Day rock. My first thought: that pun reminds me of my dad. My second thought: Seize the Day.
What does it mean to seize the day? To make the most of the present moment. The present is a present. I think during these COVID-19 times, I have thought a lot about my past and the future. The future is so uncertain that it can leave me feeling hazy. It is hard not to look at the future when the whole world as-we-know-it seems to be falling apart. And the past. The past just haunts you. It is good to have nostalgia sometimes, but it’s not good to dwell.
As humans, I think we are always looking for more, more, more. We look to our past to teach us about the present, but sometimes we get lost in the rose-colored tint of our memories which are often mixed with imagination. Our memories can lie to us. They can tell us something was so wonderful or perfect when, indeed, it wasn’t.
Thinking too much about the future makes you forget about today. I confess, I am one of those people who gets lost in the past and making plans for the future. I try to live in the present, and since COVID-19 I have been better about it. It is easy to take life and people for granted, but this whole experience has put a lot into perspective for me.
I miss my parents and not being able to see them. I did not realize how much seeing them once a week really brought balance to my life. I am throughly enjoying my time with my kids. And for their part, they have been pretty good. They do chores, almost regularly, and there have been very few fights where I thought one of them might kill the other. I call that a victory. These are precious moments in their lives and mine that I will look back on and think of fondly one day.
Seize the Day. Remember the present rapidly becomes the past. Don’t get caught looking back too much and miss what’s happening right in front of you. When you focus on the present you make way for a better future.
Lauren Greene, Author 