Pertinent to my Interests

A friend and her daughter stopped by yesterday afternoon to deliver three packages of Lemonades, the best Girl Scout cookie.

“Oh, these are my favorite,” I said as I clutched the cookies to my chest. “These ones are going in my secret snack place.” My youngest son had been hiding around the corner in the living room, avoiding social interaction; but as soon as the door closed he popped out and glared at me.

“You have a secret snack place?” he asked, accusingly. “Where is it? WHERE IS IT?!”

The kids spent the rest of the evening climbing up on chairs and stools searching through the high cupboards of the kitchen for my secret snack hiding place.

They assume I am hiding snacks up high where they can’t reach, but they have forgotten an important fact about me: I have been married to a tall person for fifteen years now. Up high is where he hides stuff from me! No, my secrets must be hidden down low, below tall man stooping level. And not only must they go low, they also have to go in the one place that no male can ever find what he’s looking for: the pantry.

So yes, for more than a decade my secret snacks have been hidden on the lowest shelf of the pantry and not once have they been disturbed by the male gaze. And the children will never know unless they read my blog someday, which I hope they do because this is pretty much my entire legacy.

Spoiler warning for Ted Lasso season one. Just stop here if you haven’t watched it yet.

I watched the last episode of Ted Lasso season one today while doing my workout in the basement.

Here is a list of all the scenes that brought tears to my eyes:
1. Nate getting promoted
2. Ted’s pre-game speech about believing in hope
3. Roy Kent limping off the pitch while the crowd chants and cheers him
4. Ted’s post-game speech about how nobody on the team is alone in their sadness

Thank you to everyone who did not tell me how positive and optimistic this show is. I would never have watched it if I had known.

I always dislike the overly optimistic characters. They’re boring and naive, maybe even a little dumb. They are often unknowingly the butt of the joke, but they continue on their merry way oblivious to the human agony around them.

Ted Lasso is not oblivious. Ted knows when he’s the butt of the joke. He sees and acknowledges the negativity in the world around him, the great difficulty of being a person. He acknowledges all this suffering and difficulty, and he chooses to be optimistic anyway.

What.

“Sorry, Nate,” Ted Lasso says in an early episode. “I have a real tricky time hearing folks that don’t believe in themselves.”

I was on the stair-stepper at the gym when I watched this scene and my jaw dropped at that line, that truth. Almost every episode has had a line in it like that, a line that hits me hard and makes me want to cross-stitch it and hang it in my house somewhere so I don’t forget it. My reputation for darkness and negativity crumbles before Ted Lasso’s admonition to “be the goldfish” and forget your mistakes.

But this show really won me over today when Ted Lasso’s team lost the final match of the season. Did they have moments of triumph during the game? For sure. But did they ultimately lose and get relegated to the next league down? Yes, they did, and I am so thrilled the writers went this direction. Because you know what? Sometimes you try your best and you still lose. Sometimes you’re just not good enough even though you try your hardest, but that doesn’t mean you’re worthless or that you shouldn’t believe in yourself anymore.

“Be the goldfish,” I tell myself when I screw something up in the kitchen. “I have trouble hearing people who don’t believe in themselves” I think to myself as I struggle to thread my way through this blog post. These messages live in my head rent-free now and carry me through each day, along with one last edict from the show:

“He’s here, he’s there, he’s every-fucking-where, Roy Kent!”

I just finished reading Stories in Stone: A Field Guide to Cemetery Symbolism by Douglas Keister.

Despite my deep appreciation for cemeteries–and my habit of dragging my grumpy kids through them–I didn’t know much about the symbolism on gravestones. If you had asked me a week ago to type out a list of everything I knew about symbolism in graveyards, it would have looked like this:

Square and Compass: Freemason thing
Dove: Christian thing
Lamb: Christian thing
Angel: Christian thing
Cross: Christian thing
Upside-down cross: A demon is present

Most of these things I learned from years sitting in church, although my confirmation class worryingly skipped over that tidbit about an upside-down cross indicating the presence of a demon. This seems like information good Christian children should have, but I had to learn about it from The Conjuring 2 as an adult.

Having now read this book, I can confidently alter my list thus:

Square and Compass: Freemason thing
Dove: Purity and peace
Lamb: Innocence
Angel: Comfort in grief
Cross: Christian thing
(This book did not address the upside-down cross, and I am beginning to think James Wan is the only person who cares about disseminating this important information.)

Despite this oversight, I learned quite a few new things from this book. Did you know the four evangelists are often represented as a group by an ox, a lion, an eagle, and an angel? And a wheel represents infinite divine power? Did you know that an anchor is a symbol of hope? And a scallop shell can represent either baptism or a pilgrimage? I did not.

But you also have to wonder if the people being memorialized by these symbols know these things. Did Great Aunt Doris actually go on a pilgrimage or did her daughter just really like the look of the scallop shells for her mom’s gravestone?

Here is an incomplete list of animals that I have learned represent Satan in cemetery iconography:

Snake
Squirrel
Cat
Woodpecker

I am particularly amused by the presence of the woodpecker on this list, and now have big summer plans to shout “Go back to hell, creature of Satan!” at the woodpecker who likes to peck on our cabin.

The first time I set foot in Minnesota was in February of 2002. Math tells me that this was 22 years ago, but my heart tells me it was about sixteen lifetimes ago.

My mom and I flew into town for the weekend to visit colleges. We were staying with old church friends in Minneapolis and therefore did not have to cross the Mississippi until the next morning, when we were headed to Macalester College for a tour.

“Okay, we’re about to cross the Mississippi!” my mother announced as she directed the car onto the bridge. We both looked out the windows and started laughing hysterically.

Have you ever seen the Mississippi in February in Minnesota? It’s completely pathetic, a grey trickle I could easily swim across if not for the fact that it’s deadly cold. I could not believe that this pathetic little leak of a creek was appointed as the major dividing line of our country. Mighty, my ass!

“Is this really it?” I asked my mom. “This is the most pathetic river I’ve ever seen.” She suggested the river must be much more impressive the further south you go. We continued on our way to Macalester where my mother (a civil engineer) was further unimpressed by the stormwater drainage.

The next day brought even more for us to mock. We were headed out of town, and saw signs for the ski area before we saw the ski area itself. I was still snowboarding a lot at that age, and was excited to check out the local ski hill options.

“Wait… is that…?” my mom started.

“That… that’s not the whole thing… is it?” I said.

We looked at each other and burst out laughing again. The ski hill was nothing. You could see the entire thing from the road. The whole hill was about the size of the bunny slope at the “mid-size” ski area I had been spending most of my weekends at recently.

We laughed hysterically again on our way back up I-35.

In the intervening lifetimes since that first peek at the Mississippi, I have learned some respect. The Mississippi is a wild river, volatile. In the late spring and early summer it swells to a terrifying high, engulfing picnic tables and trees, bike trails and roads. In the late summer you can stand on the shore and see the mysterious eddies and swirls of current breaking the surface just a few yards away. People drown in the river regularly.

I no longer mock the Mississippi in February. I only wonder how high it’s going to get this spring.

The ski hills in Minnesota, on the other hand, are still fair game. I have never driven by a Midwestern ski hill without laughing hysterically. I apologize to anyone who is offended by my disrespect, but really… you need to see where I grew up snowboarding in Washington state. I think you’ll understand my amusement.

We went to our cabin this weekend, just for one night. It was the first time since October that the whole family was up together. The kids spent some quality time making a hole through the ice on the lake and tending the fire and playing Wii Sports Resort. I spent some quality time reading my book by the fire. When we got back I had to launder all the outerwear which reeked of woodsmoke.

I remember when I first became a parent I spent a lot of time lamenting and reflecting on the changes in my life: how much easier Saturday mornings used to be before kids, how much less laundry there was when I was in my 20s. But it’s been so long now I don’t really remember what it was all like before kids. I’m pretty sure there has always been this much laundry and the kitchen has always been this sticky?

This reminds me of something we used to tell Liam Cat when we had to put drops in his ears or clip his nails or force him to snuggle: resignation is like happiness. Don’t worry, new parents, just give it ten years or so and you will also be resigned to your new life and it will feel like you’re happy! Also in ten years you’ll be well through the constant supervision phase which is one of the most soul-destroying parts of parenting in my opinion. The elementary years have been great for us, actually enjoyable, and back when I was a SAHM of a baby and a toddler I would not have believed that this could be possible.

Due to the holiday on Monday and having a sick kid home from school multiple days in a row, I’m accidentally trying something new this week I am calling “grocery shopping like a European.” It means I go to the grocery store every damn day. It’s kind of terrible but also a relief to only have to plan one day at a time. And yet I cannot live like this.

I’m finally watching Ted Lasso, but it’s my “only while exercising” show so it’s going to be slow progress. How is this show so damn funny but also so touching? Every episode has at least one optimistic quote that I want to cross-stitch onto something and I don’t even like optimism.

I did a meditation on positivity this morning. The guide instructed me to think of something that was going well for me right at that moment.

The basement doesn’t smell like cat litter right now.

After pondering this for a few minutes I was then instructed to think of something that might go well for me later in the day.

The drugstore might have Cadbury Creme Eggs.

I do think I learned some things about myself today.

I was registering for an account on a website yesterday and they asked me for information about my occupation. There was an entire page of dropdown menus for filling in clarifying details about your job. I picked “homemaker” from the first dropdown and immediately every other question on the page vanished. Huh. No further questions, your honor.

But can I really consider myself a homemaker if we rarely have clean sheets and the recycling is always full?

I’ve been thinking a lot about maintenance lately, and the incredible amount of work it takes just to maintain a thing. This is true of houses, for sure. Who has time to deep clean the kitchen and organize the pantry when we also have to stock the pantry, and cook, and do dishes, and wipe down counters, and clean water bottles all the damn time?

But it feels especially true for people, and I am overwhelmed by the amount of maintenance my body and mind require. 150 minutes of physical activity every week, but it can’t just be cardio! You must do resistance training too, and don’t forget to stretch. Brushing and flossing. Going to the dentist and the doctor and the optometrist regularly. Meditation and therapy for mental health. Puzzles and word games to keep your mind sharp. And don’t forget how important it is to have a deep social network! You must maintain all friendships! And be sure to find a creative outlet or some other sort of hobby that gives meaning to your life. And spend less time on your phone. And spend less time watching TV. Make sure to get outside every day, avoid simple carbs and too much salt, oh and you are saving for retirement, aren’t you?

Oh, and if you have kids don’t forget to manage all of the above items for them too.

I, an unemployed person with ample time to waste writing in my personal blog, get up every morning and am overwhelmed by all the things the Well section of the New York Times is telling me to do in order to maintain my self. It’s just too much. How do employed people do it?!

Anyway, I’m a homemaker. I maintain some things successfully (daily cat litter scooping! yay!) and others not so successfully (regular dusting! boo!). I am also a human and I maintain some human things successfully (daily brushing and flossing! yay!) and others not so successfully (avoiding simple carbs! boo!).

But I guess the Charles Schwab website doesn’t care to know any of those details.

I tend to get a lot of tidying done on Mondays, mostly because Monday is grocery shopping day and grocery shopping is the worst. I would rather clean multiple toilets every day for the rest of my life than have to be in charge of meal planning, grocery shopping, and cooking. So I will spend as much time as I can on Mondays scooping cat litter, cleaning the dryer vent, taking out all the garbage in the house, and organizing my socks. Anything to keep me from the dread aisles of Super Target.

Did you know that people have to eat every day? It’s terrible.

We watched the Super Bowl last night. We watch it every year not because we follow football but because we all love the excuse to eat junk food in front of the TV. I usually go to bed after the half-time show, but this game was so close I stayed up to see the end. I also really wanted the Chiefs to win because I wanted Taylor Swift to be happy, and I think this experience was a tiny taste of what it’s like to be an actual sports fan.

Anyway, there was an ad for NFL gear at one point with the tagline “the drip is in the details.” My husband and I were flummoxed by this. What kind of drip? Is there a leak somewhere? We’ve run into unfamiliar slang words in the past while listening to our kids talk to each other, but this was the first time we’ve encountered one in the wild, on broadcast television. Our oldest, who is eleven, explained it to us.

“Drip is like when you’re really decked out,” he said. “Like maybe you’re wearing big gold chains or something, but you just look really good and impressive.”

Later my husband commented that it was good we had kids to help keep us young, but I think mostly they’re just a constant reminder of how old and out-of-touch we are.

And I have to grocery shop every damn week just so I can keep getting that reminder.

People who enjoy cooking: would you consider yourself a morning person or a night person?

I think part of my issue with cooking dinner every night is the timing. My energy level drops at about 4 PM every day. I get a slight boost around 7 PM but after that I am just DONE.

I know there are people out there who feel at their best in the late afternoon and evening, and I am wondering if those people also enjoy cooking elaborate dinners for their families.

I can picture my husband reading this, narrowing his eyes at the screen, and thinking to himself that the lunches and breakfasts I make aren’t much better than my dinners.

This is true. I’m just not much of a cook at any time of day. But dinner feels especially painful due to the timing.

I’m a little frustrated with how maudlin this blog has become, but I guess that’s where my mind is at these days.

I’ve also been struggling to keep my posts rooted in the real world. I was going to write a whole post about my kid’s birthday sleepover and it was becoming a meditation on being an overnight guest in other people’s houses and all my deep thoughts about all the sleepovers I did as a kid and… yeah.

I’m sure I’m going to write that exact post eventually but sometimes I just need to pull my head out of my ass.

The problem with the real world is that it’s a little boring. What do I have to write about?

I started out strong with my job applications this year (three applications in the first two weeks of January!) but have failed to keep up that momentum.

I could write about how I switched cat litter brands. We are now a proud clumping household, and I think the cats and humans are pleased with the change.

I could write about how I’m reading Jujutsu Kaisen (manga) so that my oldest kid and I can have a shared topic of interest. I like the characters and the lore, but the fight scenes… dear God. The fight scenes last for entire books. Can we please get back to the character development?

I could write about how I’m trying to get air conditioning installed in our house and it’s not going well. Our house is lovely but the floorplan is not conducive to an air conditioning retrofit. We may end up investing in higher quality/less annoying window units.

I could write about how I am currently planning two trips. This is very unlike me because I dislike both planning travel and engaging in travel. But, we’ve got a short trip to Chicago booked for spring break, and I am in the very early planning stages of a family trip to Japan in either 2025 or 2026. And by “very early planning stages” I mean that I am reading a travel guide and making notes about what we might want to see. I also looked up plane tickets and almost died when I saw how expensive they are.

I could write about how the dishwasher keeps spewing water onto the kitchen floor. I keep attempting to fix it, and then it works fine for a couple cycles (I think because it doesn’t want to hurt my feelings?) and then starts spewing water again.

I could write about how our car got broken into earlier this week.

I could write about how I tried to make myself a grilled cheese using leftover cornbread and it was a massive disappointment. Admittedly, my expectations may have been too high.

Well, I guess there is a lot of real world stuff that could make for an interesting blog post, but instead you’re going to get paragraph upon philosophical paragraph about how my friend Amber’s dad always fried bologna for us the morning after a sleepover.