Ashwin was at Oma and Opa’s for the weekend, so V and I watched football and stuffed our faces and caught up on sleep. I didn’t even think I was capable of sleeping past 8 anymore, but I woke up at 10:23 on Sunday – absolutely sublime.
I am feeling a little melancholy remembering the Friendsgivingmases of years past that often took place the weekend before Christmas. What I wouldn’t give to hang out with all my friends at once! To drink festively and sing karaoke and play games and watch dumb movies. We really took it for granted, even though it was one of just a few times a year we would typically all be together. It was prioritized, and it was always, always fun and memorable and cozy. I miss it and I miss them. I miss brunch and traveling and not routinely having pandemic-related nightmares.
Last year at this time, I was pregnant and home for the holidays. It was such a sweet trip – people are just generally so kind and gentle with you when you’re carrying a baby. And for like 30 minutes after you have had the baby.
I don’t think I’ll be doing the Nagappala Book Awards for 2020 because I’ve only read 18 books. I didn’t really know how to set a reading goal for a year when I knew I’d be caring for a new baby. I still don’t. Even though Ashwin is almost a year old, sometimes things still feel very, very new. Sometimes I wake up with him at 5:00am or whatever it is, with the whole day stretching out before us and I just don’t know how I’m supposed to pass the time with him. I never spent significant amounts of time with babies before Ashwin. I feel like I’m supposed to be packing every minute of his day with “enrichment” of some kind. My therapist says (LOL sorry) it’s enough that I’m reading to him, talking to him, singing with him, and letting him play independently. And that’s basically our day, plus feeding and those awesome 25-minute naps he is so fond of. I’m always singing Wheels on the Bus or You Are My Sunshine or any one of the random songs I’ve completely made up over the last 10.5 months. Thank God V has noise-cancelling headphones or I’m sure we’d drive him crazy.
Before Ashwin was born, I was pretty sure I wasn’t cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. COVID kind of took that decision away from me, since it makes zero sense to put Ashwin in daycare where he could potentially be exposed just for me to work a job that isn’t strictly necessary for our financial survival. I’ve had to let go of some really cool opportunities that simply couldn’t fit in our current circumstances, and I am trying not to be resentful about that. This year – 2020 itself, and Ashwin’s first year of life – has just been nothing like I thought it would be. At least I’m far from alone in that.
What I’m reading:
- Caste, by Isabel Wilkerson. So far significantly more dense than her first, The Warmth of Other Suns, which happens to be in my top 10 faves of all time…but it’s still incredibly compelling.
What I’m watching:
- Our latest “wind down” show is…Frasier. Yes, Frasier, of the ’90s. I don’t know why we picked it, but it’s predictable and chuckle-funny and has a good amount of Seattle references, so I’m digging it.
What I’m seething about:
- The fact that Congress is just now actually doing something about direct stimulus for Americans in need – and it’s a lousy $600 per person. You can’t pay rent ANYWHERE with 600 damn dollars. Folks who are struggling will be able to pay one or two outstanding bills and then be right back where they started. But Mitch McConnell and Co. won’t lose a wink of sleep.
- Speaking of The Grotesque Turtle, McConnell has of course gotten the COVID vaccine already, because as you know, being a turtle is a very high-risk occupation and he obviously needs the shot before millions of health care workers get it. Obviously!
Sconnie Molly 
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