Little Spirits Everywhere

I avoided Mother's Day this year. Easy to do in a pandemic.

My grief is avoidance. I retreat from the world. I seek some of my old ways -- or they seek me. I find myself reading favorite passages from beloved books, the ones whose spines are cracked and failing. Music I loved as a teen hits in a particular way that I can't explain.

I am a mother to a living child and to two ethereal spirits. In this world their time was brief but their presence is far from fleeting.

The day before the WHO announced a pandemic I suspected I was pregnant. A week later a test confirmed it. I put my head down through the lockdown to get through it, out of sheer necessity. The first trimester is not kind to me.

This spirit passed sometime in the 6th or 7th week -- hard to say. An unscheduled ultrasound ("just to make sure things are going well") at 8 weeks found an empty sac and no heartbeat.

At 10 weeks a kind doctor did what my uterus was refusing to do, and removed the tissue the spirit was supposed to inhabit.

The loss is hitting me in subtle ways.

I drove past the hospital where I should have delivered and my heart dropped.

I looked out in our backyard to the swing set and remembered I had planned to replace the rings, which no kid uses, with a baby swing.

Brian and I read to Reed at bedtime and my heart fluttered, "How sweet this is, all four of us together," before I remembered that we are only three.

No baby. No baby. No baby.

Just spirits.

The essentials

I had it in my mind that I needed a griddle. I keep seeing English muffin recipes and thinking of tortillas, dosas, and other fried flatbreads and know that making these things will just annoy me if I keep using my big stainless steel frying pan. Oil sticks to it and is a bitch to clean off.

So I went to Target.

In any other month of my life, this is not a story. But the day was March 21, 2020. Pandemic!

My husband's jobs are both at reduced hours and I have concerns about my job lasting through the year if an economic depression sets in. (And it will, loves. We'll get through that, too.) Do you think that prevented me from sticking to my list? My list of ONE item.

I found the griddle. Cast iron, fits perfectly on my stove's burner. Also in my cart: wipes and overnight pull-ups and more underwear for the preschooler who refuses to potty train. Stickers to send to friends near and far. Fruit punch for me. (I love fruit punch.) Kit-kats, which I stashed away for a later treat. Lots and lots of fancy sparkling water. Foam paint brushes for the art projects I know we're about to get to. Deli ham, pickles, cheese. A bunch of other stuff I can't remember at the moment.  

Nothing I bought was necessary or essential to our survival, but they'll all help us cope or will ease us into what lies ahead.

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Counterpoint: maybe wait a few months? https://t.co/mZduMr022L

— Emily St. J. Mandel (@EmilyMandel) March 11, 2020

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I can't stop thinking about Station Eleven. Not just the plot, but the little details. When the world really starts to fall apart, one character keeps working on an article he knows no one will ever read. But it's important to him and it keeps his mind off what's happening outside his apartment. Another character realizes he'll never have another cappuccino again.

It probably wasn't my last Target run. But it was hard not to feel like it could be.  

What am doing?

That is how my son asks questions right now. He's eight days shy of two years old, and pronouns aren't his strong suit. "Pick you up?" he asks. "Give you kiss?" He's on the receiving end of these things, of course. I'm usually game to oblige. He's much better at commands, such as "HUG!" or "WASH HANDS!"

I keep thinking of my resolutions . Are the things on there really want I want to be spending my spare time doing? Now that the main goal of my year -- pass my professional exam -- is completed and through, I find myself a little aimless. I'm not above changing things up when it's clear it's not working, or it's no longer a priority. 

In the very least, I am noticing what's preventing me from working on some of these resolutions. My tendency to browse Instagram or other mindless things in the evening? I do that because I'm tired. I don't have enough energy to read or I'm not in the middle of reading something engaging. I don't want to tackle projects at 8pm because there's usually still chores to do -- picking up, laundry, dishes -- and by the time I wrap those up it's time to get ready for bed, if I know what's good for me. (I don't, often.)

I really should get on the ball concerning photos. I like having a record of what we've been up to when I remember to take photos, but it's not a priority. I want to do this because it'd be nice to send my mother and mother-in-law regular photos of my kid. But I don't really want to do this. (This realization -- that the motivation behind an idea is still not my own motivation -- was a big revelation I got while reading Better Than Before.) 

The other undone items on my list are things I think will lead to something else, in one way or the other. Those are the items I feel like I need to really look into. I'll get there. Maybe.

Five For Friday - 3/9/18

It is March. In multiple Native American tongues, this time of year is known as "the starving time." This is a time of year where I both crave the sunlight and get annoyed if it taunts me too much.  A friend reminded me last night that January through March is for surviving. I needed that reminder.

Here's what's been getting me through: Not drinking. Reading fiction. Putting my phone away when I play with my kid. Washing down 5,000 IUs of vitamin D with orange juice as I make breakfast. Pilates.

And in the evenings, zapped of energy but unwilling to go to bed at 8pm, I watch comedy on the Internet until I memorize it, and then quote it to my husband when the occasion presents itself.

1. Maria Bamford

Way back in the early aughts, I remember catching her stand-up routines on Comedy Central.  Like the Bammer herself, her routines have aged well, like a hilarious and funky wine that does voice impersonations.

Her genius is subtle. On "Lady Dynamite", her flashbacks to Minnesota are accompanied by the lighting adjusting to a perfect shade of "Duluth Blue" -- the exact grey, sad-sack hue that I associate with weekend afternoons in February.

Don't ask her, Ask Her Mom! 

2. Chris Fleming

Maybe you know him as Gayle.

Maybe you've seen Paint Nite. (And then watched it over and over again.)

I want to live inside his head.

3. NOT A WOLF

Twitter is a cesspool, which is why clever minds flourish there if they don't take themselves too seriously. I wish I could explain why I love this account.

4. McSweeney's Internet Tendency

It's hard to find fault with a website who publishes articles titled "Hello, I'm the Internet, and You're Parenting All Wrong." And with that came the realization that there's a giant arm of media that seems to resonate with my experience because lo! My peers are now in charge of producing the media. Just wait until we get our hands on the governments.

5. Wizard People, Dear Reader

I'm at the point in my life where I enjoy this more than the actual Harry Potter series. 

Resolutions - Updated

Originally published on 1/2/18; updated 1/15/2018; updated again on 6/4/2018. 

I recall a New Year's list I made back in 2003.  I was 16 and had lofty goals. Among the goals I accomplished on that list were: eat more exciting cheeses, learn to drink tea properly, learn my prayers in Latin. A goal I did not master were becoming ambidextrous and getting into a yoga routine, although the attempt at both did set up some good habits overall.

I tend to do well on my resolutions when I mix serious with fun and throw in things I know I need to do anyway. Unless there's an outside deadline, I don't really make deadlines. This is how a Rebel does resolutions.

Here's to 2018:

• Pass the AICP Exam (Deadline: May) PASSED. Thanks be to God. 
• Need to carve out study time. 
• Switch from browsing Instagram to reading books in the quiet part of the evening when Reed goes to sleep.
• Rearrange the house to get my office space back + combine sleeping spaces to the big bedroom DONE! 1/8/18
• Get into my long-sought after Friday Habit Still want to do this, but I need to figure out how to get me to do it. I hate sorting photos.
• Organize my digital photos, files, and links each Friday
• Clear off my desk and follow up on any paperwork
• Then have a screen-less evening
• Learn 3 new, everyday hairstyles. Still working on it. 
• Don't take on new debt Fail. Car repairs, plus a wedding I agreed to be before in set me back. 
• Do InCoWriMo in February Still 14 letters in the whole. Will reply and finish, but letters take time and I don't like sending out crap. 
• 100 Species Project (April - October)
• This takes care of less specific "get outside"
• Go mushrooming (May, post AICP)  Overlapped with AICP studying; poor mushrooming year anyway, due to weather.
• Do an overnight trip by myself. Bachelorette party night from March does not count.
• Get to Aire Ancient Baths This might be bumped, due to costs. I did do a float tank, thought, which was close but not the same. 
• Get to a place where I'm consistently doing 3 cardio workouts per week Still doing poorly
• Get a good morning routine established Holding steady, need to work on getting up (and going to bed) at a consistent time. 
• Goals: make and clean up from breakfast (don't leave dishes for Brian), do a 10-15 minute Pilates or yoga routine 

Being There: Why Prioritizing Motherhood in the First Three Years Matters

I read a book.

Hey, guess what! The American economy hates kids! Why? Because doing it right* takes away precious time from your employer.

Hell, even The Onion knows.

I didn't need this book to tell me that the society I live in is not truly setup to support families, much less acknowledge that in order to have thriving children, you need to let their parents be the primary people who attend to their needs.  I didn't need the author to point out that it's not against the principles of feminism to want to care for your child at the expense of your career.  The problem is not that mothers don't want to be with their children; the problem is that prioritizing that decision in this society can cost you.

But -- I also didn't need this book to tell me that I should explain to my kid why I won't allow him to do something rather than just telling him no. Or perhaps that I should constantly talk about our feelings, always referring to myself in the third person. (Both of those suggestions sound exhausting.) Or, perhaps, that fathers can be better caregivers if they're given a whiff of an oxytocin-laced nasal spray. (...what?) Let me be clear: no one needs to hear these things because they're opinions. Or are just plain weird.

There are other people who do a better job of explaining where this book falls short. The first year of life is a big deal, but we're not going to make it easier by suggesting that burden of prioritizing your child or your job is an individual choice, which was the feeling I had while reading this book. The system is working against us.

There are a handful of things this book does well:

• gives support for the conflicted feelings many women have when going back to work
• ripping apart the notion that "quality time" can make up for actually being there (though I think this gets more important when you have older children)
• repeating the word "status" when talking about decision-making.  Since the bulk of her readers are going to be middle- to upper middle class families, I think the reminder that doing an action you don't feel right about just because you feel it's expected is bull. (This is my own take on the matter -- I'll spare you my rant about the idiosyncrasies of professional class life in a college town and its surrounding area.) 

I'll give her some credit for raising the discussion, too, because the more people who chime in saying, "The way we're doing this is messed up, and it's terrible for children and parents." the better.

* - No one's doing it right.

Traditional, Christmas Edition

I wrote about how much I liked Halloween this year and how I found myself having Very Strong Opinions about how it ought to be celebrated. I don't care how anyone else does it, but I've got some ideas about what it takes for me to have a good time.

We got to spend Christmas in our own home. I'm 31 years old and I've never done this.

Borrowing a page from my paternal grandparents, I snuck out on Christmas Eve to procure a tree.  My dad and his siblings all have (presumably fond?) memories of waking up Christmas morning to a tree that was not there the night before. It was snowing and there were crowds and I almost scrapped it, but there at the last minute was a tree lot. And lo! Christmas trees are half price on Christmas Eve! What's more -- the tree stand and lights needed at Target were 40% off. My inner skinflint rejoiced.

Tradition #1 and #2: the tree comes home on Christmas Eve. The tree will have previously lived in the ground -- it will not be fake.

We waited until the kid went to bed to decorate it. I hurried to finish Reed's Christmas present. Brian set up the art easel and trampoline, both gifts from his parents that were too large to open when he first got them. The giant penguin they bought him was accompanied by the smaller penguin Brian found for him -- total coincidence, and a happy one at that.  It was a pretty, magical scene. Peak Christmas. We collapsed into bed just short of midnight.

The payoff came in the morning. My sleepy boy toddled out to the lit tree and looked on in wonder, then quickly made use of everything under it.  The trampoline was a godsend, because we've had subzero temperatures all week, and Reed is thrilled to have a place to "Jump! Jump! Jump!" {Side note -- this kid's vocabulary is through the roof these days. Other words exclaimed with enthusiasm: vacuum! ukelele! MOON!}

I had a hunch my homemade gift would be well-received.  Sure enough, after we video chatted with all the family later that day, Reed brought me his house and opened the window to reveal the photo of my dad. "Ganpa!" he exclaimed. Oh, the vindication!

Tradition #3: there will be homemade gifts. Turns out Mama and Daddy are pretty good at making them.

Tradition #4 is that I will order New Year's postcards to be sent sometime within the week before or after Christmas. Postcards because I'm cheap, and a New Year's greeting because I cannot for the life of me manage to get them sent out before Christmas.  I can justify sending a New Year's card well into January. So far my tradition is to order them from Minted, because I am a snob and I like their designs, plus they'll print the address labels on the postcards for me. My procrastination paid off this year, because New Year's cards are 20% off right now.

It was the calmest and happiest Christmas I had in a long time.