The city has emptied out--what with the end of the MSU semester, graduating students, and the long Memorial Day weekend ahead of us.
I was on my own for dinner tonight, so after I fed Scout and Huck, I had a whole column of pistachio baklava and about half of a small watermelon.
I regret nothing.
Pic: The largest solar carport in North America had just three parked cars on this morning's walk with L.
My calendar said I had RSVPed 'yes' to the annual Child Advocacy luncheon, so I went.
I did not know that I would be getting an award. (I guess that's why my director had insisted I be there?)
I did not know that I would be the only person there who was masked. (Maybe because people were expecting to unmask before eating anyway?)
Everything still feels a little unreal.
After last night and then today's tally of 19 kids killed in their elementary school in Texas just a week after the Buffalo shootings, I look back at a moment from an ordinary part of the day and it looks absurd and impossible.
Can puppies really be that fuzzy? Do we really get to take a walk like the world isn't ending?
And now I'm behind on a bunch of stuff I was supposed to get done. I did start--and finish--the new Emily St. John Mandel, Sea of Tranquility, overnight though.
My people returned home over the course of the day. At to pick up packages, and stuff; Nu sleepy from his sleepover; Big A from two days away at work.
At was darling, Nu was grumpy, Big A was doting.
Notable quotes:
At: (holding an armful of books from his room) I wish I could just get all this in my brain instantly.
Nu: (about many things) No.
Big A: (who had gotten copped for speeding) I couldn't wait to get home, that's why I was speeding. Also, I was listening to The Strokes.
____________
Pic: Hagadorn Woods with L. I feel lighter just looking at this.
I started this garden in 2020 for Nu, but like many other things, I seem to be the one holding on to something after the kid(s) seems to have lost interest. Nu was the best gardening companion, I hope this'll be something he's interested in again when summer break starts. In the meantime, I'm lucky that Scout and Huck will keep me company for hours while I garden.
Today--it's just the puppies and me at home. Nu is off at a sleepover and Big A is at work. A glimpse of times to come? I suppose.
[I will note that not having to feed a growing child with allergies or a fussy spouse is very liberating in terms of food choices. I made such a delicious spicy mango salad with peanuts for my dinner.]
We'd read Pachinko (2017 and ancient, I know), but someone had liked it a lot. We were fairly divided on it, but some interesting discussion as always.
One of the things I love about about book club is how even reading the book on my own becomes communal, because I found myself wondering how certain members would react to this or that.
I hosted this month, and I'd been excited to research a Korean menu--I went with (three kinds of) mandu, (three flavors of) jumeokbap, and an assortment of mochi. I made the jumeokbap rice balls from scratch, found the mochi readymade, and the mandu dumplings semi-prepped at the asian grocery store. It all came together pretty easily--I even had tons of time to putter around in the garden, take a long soak, and read before people showed up.
Scout and Huck loved all the extra attention, Nu took off with his cell phone to practice "self-care" in his room, reemerging for dinner, a show, cuddles, and clean up after everyone had left.
Pic: The people of book club. I'm in this picture (albeit happily blending into the shadows like a ninja).
While on rockstars, I read the entirety of Taylor Swift's--Dr. Taylor Swift's--commencement speech to the NYU class of 22. It was all good advice, honest, confidently self-deprecating, and very well crafted. Recommended. Wish there had been something about service and the greater good, but other than that--no notes. I think I might share with students. Here's a snippet: "How will you know what the right choice is in these crucial moments? You won’t. How do I give advice to this many people about their life choices? I won’t. Scary news is: You’re on your own now. Cool news is: You’re on your own now."
Pic: Family of geese by the Red Cedar on a walk with L this morning.
Just keeping this Mary Oliver quote--that KV made into a card I'm now using as a bookmark--as my mantra.
Have to say Big A and Nu have been arbitrary and weird about At's Covid. Nu didn't want to eat in the same room (he'd have been over 8-10 feet away) and Big A thought At shouldn't share a bathroom with anyone (although we've been at airports and work and stuff).
Hmm. They've also said I was "not taking it seriously enough" and must be "wrongly feeling invincible" although I thought I was being careful in masking with a K-95 any time I was in his room. My family is weird is all I can say.
Later in the day, At took a negative Covid test and took off for his apartment since he "has" to be at work tomorrow. His work didn't require a test; I did.
Anyway--perhaps it was the gardening and outside time that helped, because I have the same things hanging over me, but I was way less flustered today.
Nu has been amazing about keeping everyone else fed, watered, medicated, and quarantined. At looked much better than I'd imagined although he does have a fever and a sore throat (plus his asthma is kicking in). Ibuprofen and lots of love and care for now.
Although At thinks it's bad timing (when would a good time for Covid be?!) since he was supposed to be in charge of the younger sibs while we were gone, I wonder if it works out for the best. He's here where we can care for him rather than by himself in his apartment. I remember that time when was in college and so sick his worried housemates called me.
Anyway: Home and hoping--as Nicole put it--that his "symptoms are mild and the recovery is quick."
Pic: Sunset as we were landing in Detroit last night.
It never fails. Every time, the wonderful Mel over at Stirrup Queens selects this blog to highlight in her Friday Roundup series (894 and counting!!), something from another part of my life gets published. Sure enough, Mel picked Monday's Mother's Day Blues for her roundup today and this NWSA statement about the leaked SCOTUS decision went live.
I have a slight case of triskaidekaphobia, which prickled to life when Mel noted today was Friday the 13th in her blog post today and my uneasiness really sprouted with the news that At had tested positive for Covid. Nu tested negative, but I had him stay home from school too, just in case.
(Also testing positive for Covid, scads of people at this Emergency Medicine conference of Big A's. Only about 30% are masked indoors, so it's not a surprise, but given what these folks do for a living, what the ever-loving what?)
Anyway, to sum up: I hate that I'm so far away when the kids are in crisis but am SO glad we're headed home today. And also, this article about how Friday the 13th isn't unlucky, but can tap into powerful female energy was very interesting and gave me more than an idea or two.
Missing my babies and home.
And thinking about last week when Big A and I were walking on the MSU campus. A young person in a group running past us yelled out, "nice kicks" at Big A, who was surprised, but reflexively thanked him.
I, though, was curious about what the runner was wearing... and it turned out that he was wearing an identical pair.
I started laughing and I yelled out to him, "you're wearing the same thing!"
And he turned around, laughing too, and smirked "I know, right?" before he raced off to to rejoin his group.
I loved so much that he had been making the joke for himself mostly--since he was going so fast and we might have missed the matching shoes.
I keep thinking about this and wish life could always be this place where we were all doing fun things with people we like and bantering lightheartedly across generational and race difference.
Pic: Sunrise over Nola from the hotel room.
I took myself off for a long walk to celebrate and, as if just for me, the city shared a tiny parade. The last person you can see in the picture is the last person in the whole parade.
I don't know what this parade was for, but I remember reading that it's super easy to throw a parade in NOLA (complete with police escort and marching band).
It's 90 degree weather, gulf breezes, views from our 34th story hotel room on Canal Street, remote work, and long walks by myself during the day... and hotel bars, takeout, and hangouts with Big A in the evening.
We might be the only people masking in the hotel (full of emergency medicine doctors because of the conference) like at all, and were a handful of people masked in the airport and on the plane.
This is absolutely non essential travel for me, so a part of me is puritanically and vindictively whispering that if I get Covid because of this trip, I deserve it. But right in this moment, I'm having fun.
At is 23--and I don't think all 23 of my Mother's Days have been happy ones. All the recent ones have been, but it took a while to get there. It was fine when the kids were younger--elementary school teachers (bless them!) made sure the kids had a card to give me on Mother's Day. I think they would talk about what to do on Mother's Day, so the kids would pick flowers sometimes, and they always had that card they made in class to produce with such a proud flourish. There were some gems in those early days: At saying he loves me because I "make refreshing drinks;" Nu saying they love me because I gave them "their blood and bones." 🤣 Both of those statements are still in regular rotation over here.
But when the kids were too young to do stuff themselves, Big A was very hands off. I remember asking him to help the kids plan and him saying "but you're not my mother"--which I thought was missing the point. On top of that, I frequently have to to be the one reminding him to call/plan for his mom too. As this long-ago post references, I wallowed in self-pity because I loved mothering and wanted Mother's Day to be special--but it was mostly Hallmark media telling me what it ought to be, and I could see it not happening in my life.
But at some point in the last ten years or so, I realized that I did not want breakfast in bed (I'm not a breakfast person at all although I make the kids breakfast every day) or presents (I already have too much stuff)--what I really want is some meaningful time with the kids doing something together. So in more recent years, I've just said what I'd like for us to be doing: some years it's been yoga and spa, some years it has been gardening. And all of it has made me very happy. And although I do not need presents, the kids have started giving me the sweetest, most meaningful things--last year they gave me a water backpack for hiking, and this year they gave me a toddler Ganesh.
Pic: This year's amazing card and present. I plan to use the card as a bookmark in my planner; the toddler Ganesha will sit on my reading table.
Woke up to a bonus kid (Nu had had a sleepover). Over breakfast, we put together a vase of flowers for the sleepover kid to take home to their mom from all the flowers people had brought to the party yesterday. Spent the rest of the morning at UU. It was nice to see the small bidding war over my UU auction item ("An Evening in India"), then some fun at the food truck, and back home to read in the sun.
Over lunch, Big A and I watched the final episode of Mrs. America and the epilogue summarizing the slow death of the ERA made me sob. This is my THIRD time watching the mini series (I previously watched it with Nu and At separately), but this week felt "too soon" after the SCOTUS Roe opinion leak.
At came by after his shift, and he looked so tired, I didn't have the heart to ask the kids to help with the garden plots like they usually do. Instead, we took a small walk before settling in to dinner where all of us just lingered at the table forever talking and admiring their card and present. The kids usually pick me dandelions for Mother's Day (as a cutesy reminder of how they used to pick them for me when they were toddlers), but we have none in our yard. We don't use pesticides, so I suppose they're delayed this year... like so many things... like most of us.
Pic: Me and the kids outside; Huckie is airborne in excitement.
Looking forward to having all the kids around for Mother's Day tomorrow!
It's Mothers' Day AND my mom's actual birthday on Sunday, and I wish I could be there for that!
Over here, I spent most of the day on camera and yet felt like I accomplished very little. Having to be ON so much meant I couldn't read/write/run/snack/clean and that's usually what keeps me feeling balanced/happy/healthy/content/okay-ish.
Anyway... onward!
As it turns out, Big A is the only one dutifully posing for me this year.
If he's smiling somewhat smugly in this picture, it's probably because he's thinking of what he said to me this afternoon. He asked me where I'd been and then answered his own question. "Most people," (he said) "would assume you'd had some torrid affair because your hair's all messy and you look glassy-eyed and blissed out, but I'm going to guess you got a massage."
He was right.
But I got some oars in at lunch. And I shared this article about faculty exhaustion, which is important because everything about the last three pandemic years has been additive and nothing has been moved or withdrawn to make room for the extra stuff we've taken on.
Got some other campus work done, delivered flowers and cards to two young admin colleagues who finished their M. Eds, took flowers and card to MB who'd had shoulder surgery, and then set off for a long walk-and-talk with JG. It was the perfect, fluffy-cloud day for it--and as always, my mind is clearer after I get some JG time.
At various points I also got to collaborate on an NWSA statement on the Roe opinion and then I really got into Lauren Groff's Matrix. This is a book that kept showing up in my recommendations, and I kept resisting because nothing about the title or the book cover indicated it was about MARIE DE FRANCE and a HISTORICAL NOVEL--I'd thought it was sci-fi!!! Loving it, BTW.
Pic: The bike trail in Alma with JG.
I woke up a 4 am, landed in MI around noon, napped in the car after Big A picked me up, cooked till 4 pm (biriyani and sides) while Big A made the cupcakes (red velvet) and Nu made a birthday card (My Little Pony) and wrapped presents, and then... At was here!
No big presents this year, but we got him some pre-revolution short story collections (Chekov, Gorky, Gogol, and Tolstoy) and a small bookshelf Big A and I found for his growing library.
Scout and Huck were delirious with happiness (and so were we).
At lunch, one of the servers asked what we were up to and when I told her we were arranging a huge women's studies conference, she said she wished she'd taken a class when she was in college... in the 70s. She remembers the fight over ERA and how it laid the "foundation for everything." So I was telling her about the Mrs. America show on Hulu, and her name was Sally--so we sang a bit of "Ride, Sally, Ride."
At the end of the meeting I was so tired, especially as there was a lot of new (to me) software and platform-ware. I went back to my room caught up with the fam, and napped for a bit.
Those of us from the meeting still in town met up for a great dinner at a small Somali restaurant where they gave us a private booth because we were the only women there. This was my first time meeting in person (all of our other meetings had been on Zoom) so there was a strange mixture of familiarity and the excitement of sharing some of our favorite stories about ourselves.
We were still joking and laughing at something and calling goodbye to our servers as we were walking out of the restaurant, and then we started to fall silent as we passed the TV on the counter and each of us silently read the blithe chyron stating there was a leaked "Supreme Court draft opinion that would overturn Roe v. Wade."
___________________________
Pic: Sharing on family chat the fancy welcome swag bag the hotel gave me when I checked in and the uninspiring view from my room.
But yes, I've pulled at least three purple-y, paisley things in my wardrobe to pack...
and I've already booked my solo ticket to visit the Prince Museum.
Squeeing (and not just in my heart).
I'm ordering these "Saying No To Things Punch Cards" for friends. The idea is that you reward yourself for saying no to things by treating yourself to an ice cream after ten "noes." There's a version with cocktail reward as well, and they're available here.
Anyway, I would have earned that icecream/cocktail today. I evaluated everything against back pain and let most things go. A missing submission could wait, family could make their own dinner, someone else should give Scout his meds, Big A thinks we should go for a walk? I think not. My planner looks bereft. I researched elaborate menus for upcoming parties, read for hours, soaked forever, spent time with the fam, and fed myself what I wanted.*
*What I wanted ranged across continents and was delicious: an English muffin with hummus, jalapenos + sliced avocado, sprinkled liberally with furikake.
In the midst of the slowdown and the disruption, a few insights:
My general humor is greatly impacted by pain. I have so much less patience and do so much less for people. I wonder who I would be if I had had a history of chronic physical pain.
I'm more likely to take medication for the pain if I remind myself that it'll help reduce the inflammation--apparently, I don't think I deserve to take it just for the pain alone.
Nu and Big A are really good at waiting on me hand and foot and I should ask them more often.
I should try to get my treadmill desk up again so I can move as I work tomorrow--sitting and getting up from sitting are the worst.
Pic: Daffodil Hill (we think at its peak) with L this morning.
Apropos of all this, I love the title of the book JL gave me--Text Me When You Get Home: The Evolution and Triumph of Modern Female Friendship. It seems to be a sociologist's happy validation of female friendships from besties and cliques to squads and posses.
For a while now, I've expected my elderly years to be lived in the communal company of women. Whether that's from watching too much Golden Girls (or more recently Grace and Frankie), growing up in all-girls "convent" schools, or radical feminist envisioning, I don't know... yet.
And this is not at all unusual--I've been averaging between 3-6 hours of sleep for years now... and put like that, I'm worried there's going to be some spectacular comeuppance for this.
In some ways I'm a perfect candidate for fractured sleep because I have family from other continents and time zones--so no matter what the time, I have people on hand to have heart-to-hearts and to text links to hilarious songs like Rowdy Baby (no babies were harmed in the making of this video).
But also Big A works nights, so we're usually texting and chatting about stuff and keeping in touch and being silly as well. And if he's home, his sleep schedule is messed up by working nights, so I'm hanging out with him then too. And tonight At seems to be up and feeling chatty and is sending me Langston Hughes poems about Lenin and I sent him that clip of Paul Robeson singing to Scottish miners (cross cultural solidarity is my favorite and my boy knows me).
Anyway, this will all work itself out, or won't. If I'm going to be up all night anyway, I feel like there ought to be a cuddly baby to keep me company at least 😁.
Pic: The Red Cedar was flooding its banks on our walk yesterday.
"For young people experiencing grief, he suggests Bridge to Terabithia, a novel about two children who create a magical land that allows them to escape a personal tragedy. For people dealing with indecision, he recommends “Eveline,” a short story by James Joyce about a young woman who plans to leave Dublin with her lover and is forced to decide whether to abandon her family. Cheu prompts clients by asking them, “If you were Eveline, what would you do?” Turning the question on the reader, he says, uses the story to ease them into sharing more about themselves. “That is how you allow the discussion to move away from a very personal direct confrontation to an imaginary alternative,” he says, “which allows them to imagine a different life for themselves.” Literature essentially helps clients be seen without being exposed."
Pic: Scout giving us high-fives for the week that was. (I think Big A and I may have taught our baby a new trick!)
But an unscripted funny moment was when Pinsky was describing how hair sprouts on the human body, using his fingers to mime sprouting at his head, then his armpits, and then the whole auditorium kind of held their breath wondering if he would go further. (He didn't).
It was bittersweet saying goodbye to advisees and students who graduated today. I went in early to finish writing congratulation cards in my office and was touched to find cards students had crammed into the doorjamb or slid under the door. I thought I knew whom they might be from as I collected them, but I was wrong. None were from advisees or people I had done big, important things with/for. For the most part, these cards referenced small conversations and interactions. I kind of sat with that for a while. The idea that small things had been so important in someone's life made me feel... TBH... a bit anxious, actually. It's easier to do a finite number of big things than it would be to be open and supportive all the time.
Pic: A screengrab of me doing the faculty marshal thing with the staff/mace and all. I kind of like the extra shoulder width and overall height academic regalia gives me.
And I couldn't help remembering that this happened at last year's graduation.
I'm excited my favorite part of the year (the warm part) is almost here. I'm not even sad/mad that my sabbatical is now officially over (as this is finals week). I think I've garnered a few professional responsibilities and established some working/writing habits I can continue over the summer.
In the meantime (just) today: I helped lead a WIAB meeting, joined an AC shared governance team, drafted a SLSA proposal with EM, and wrote up a panel and roundtable for the SA caucus.
OFC.
SMH.
Pic: Daffodil Hill near the Radiology Gardens
When I told JG that At was taking a gap year, she told me it was a good thing--"a time of discernment" is how she phrased it. And it helped me so much--I would it mutter this mantra to myself when other people like Big A or my mom were frustrated by At's plans.
A few weeks ago a friend's kid said something disrespectful about At's job. We don't disparage people based on their jobs in our family, so I was really taken aback. And then I was really sad about it for a while--At is a kind, funny, and brilliant person and the comment made me see that none of that would matter to some people. When I shared this with Nu, Nu gave me the best mantra of all: "That's not on him! That's on them!"
"That's on them!" is the perfect riposte to so many things now. I'm sure that At's decision to postpone grad school is scary for me because of my immigrant trust in education--where would I be without my degrees? But as my Nu taught me, that's on me.
I had a long car ride with At as we were out on an errand yesterday, and I have so much clarity about what he's doing and I think he's absolutely making the decisions that work for him right now.
Pic: Early morning hike with L at Baker Woods.
We had our usual Easter egg hunt in the backyard with rhyming clues. (I rhymed "elm that fell" with "morel"--and they didn't get that one easily--oh, well.) Then a very early dinner together, and a very short round of Coup. I even got a nice walk-and-talk with At before sending him off. Tried to watch Severance, which people seem to love, with Big A but didn't make it past the 20-minute mark.
I'm grateful for the quiet, quality time with loved ones this weekend.
I'm taking this hazy lunar halo to bed with me. A long day: long hike, long hours in the garden prepping, long international phone calls with my mom and a friend.
But it's nearly 3:00 am, so I'm not surprised I don't have a lot of thoughts to string together.
Sad about Covid-related drama nixing our Passover Seder with J and M this evening; but "next year"--as they say.
This week brought me so many mixed feelings.
Pic: The amaryllis kit that AK gave me for Christmas bloomed spectacularly--three giant blooms and one waiting in the wings.
I was as excited as a toddler when I saw this little tree feller in the backyard. We've had four trees come down this last winter and I haven't been able to plan any outdoor events because it looked and felt inhospitable (and unsafe) with tree limbs everywhere.
My favorite part of this picture is that when the driver saw me--with my phone out and dramatically miming taking a picture and asking if it would be ok--he very kindly paused so I could take one. As I mentioned to the kids in family chat--this is way more than they ever do for me. And the little monsters... had the gall to go "ha-ha" on that comment.
L is back from her month-long trip, so I got a long walk with her this morning to catch up and it made me realize yes--lots of things have changed in a month: I'm more hopeful for Nu; I know what At's plans for the year are; I'm getting used to Big A's work-related absences. A lot of sadness with each of those situations, but growing acceptance too.
Scout was so excited by this last development (or maybe it's the five pills he's been taking every day) he didn't wait for an "uppy" and just jumped up onto the couch by himself.
That made my own heart very "uppy" too.
Beautiful Anne Lamott words here for more heart uppy-s.
I rarely take pictures of our dinner party table because it feels discourteous to my guests--the food is for them, not my camera. But SS's spouse did. I loved making them a feast (90% of it vegetarian). Just this morning, I read an article on hosting dinner parties Modern Mrs. Darcy linked to with mounting dismay. I agreed with most of the bullets (don't clean before--clean after, make a ton of food, accept help, and so on). But don't change the menu?! No desserts requiring silverware?! That seems like a recipe (ha) for monotony. And contrary to the article's advice, I already have counters cleaned/clear, boxed lunches for guests and fam, and am now off to spend more time playing board games.
After Nu heads up to bed for the day, I usually spend the rest of the evening cuddling with Scout and Huck... and usually Scout'll snuggle up to me and let out a big sigh.
The big sigh is my sign that Scout is done for the day and is feeling content and happy.
Today was my version of Scout's big sigh--after all the travel and non stop busyness of the past couple of weeks. There was some prep for our house guests this weekend, but mostly it was working with these two guys at my feet, listening to the rain.
First things first: My mom is out of the ICU! She was up for a FaceTime this morning. I'm not sure what her recovery looks like, but I...
