life – Sconnie Molly

Not too late for a 2022 recap, is it?

Hey, friend.

I missed the 2022 Nagappala Book Awards (NBAs) and I don’t have the energy to do it now. You can haunt my Goodreads if you’re really starving for my book opinions.

We can do a quick 2022 rundown though, I guess.

I didn’t travel as much in 2022 as I would’ve liked, for all the obvious reasons: it’s challenging to travel with a 2 year old, everything is wildly expensive, work schedules, and did I mention it’s really fucking challenging to travel with a 2 year old. We did have about 5 days in Boston in the spring for a family wedding, which was fantastic because V also has family in that area, so we both got to see cousins we love. But parenting in a different environment is not actually a vacation.

To scratch that itch as best we could, we continued our tradition of taking “solo weekends” – where one of us goes away for a few days, decompressing and doing whatever the fuck we want, and the other gets 1-on-1 time with Ashwin. If it’s feasible for you, as a parent, I cannot recommend doing this any more strongly. I have tended to stick pretty close to home for my trips, to maximize the relaxation and fun and minimize the tedious travel time, but I might branch out in 2023.

In 2023, V and I will have been married for 10 years and together for 15 (!). For a long time I’ve said I wanted to do a big trip for this anniversary and so we are, in early March, to a very warm and lovely place we’ve never been. Of course, this is only possible because my parents so generously agreed to take Ashwin off our hands for a week. I am honestly not trying to humble brag – I’m just endlessly, endlessly grateful for my mom and dad. I do not take them for granted.

I guess if 2022 had a theme, for me it might well be gratitude. All sorts of not-great things happened this year; I cried, argued, maybe slammed a door or two, rescheduled therapy appointments way too many times, definitely made far too many trips to Starbucks for strawberry acai lemonades, despite buying the ingredients to attempt making it at home (whoops, never did). Loved ones got covid (though thankfully all mostly recovered), the ex-president still isn’t in jail, and Ron Johnson still represents me in the Senate. But nothing truly calamitous happened and for that I can’t be anything but thankful.

I didn’t see my friends often enough, but I’d like to think we made it count when we did.

I’ve loved my new job. The only thing I don’t like about it is it leaves me pretty much no time to write and/or pitch – which I knew would happen, and it’s fine, but I do miss it. I suppose I still have this good ol’ blog that 5 people read, maybe that’s enough of an outlet.

I did some personal healing that was a long, long time coming and I’m now a lot more at peace because of it. Shan’t get into the gory details, but maybe 2023 is the year you confront your trauma? It’s better on the other side, I promise.

Even with the daily grind and stressors that life brings – parenting, household management, marriage, friendships, family, self-care, career – I’ve found myself feeling…pretty good. So much so that I’ve been considering a sloooow taper off of my meds. Longtime friends/readers may remember that I tried this in 2015, as I started trying to conceive, and it did.not.go.well to put it mildly. As scary as that prospect is, I want to try again, because minus that ~6 month experiment, I’ve been on some type of antidepressant/anti-anxiety medication my entire adult life. I think I’m more stable than I was in 2015 and I really want to see if I can do it. If I can’t cope, I can’t cope, and I’ll go back on them without an ounce of shame. I’m mostly including this here because if I do end up tapering, I may track it somewhat here on the blog. Would that actually be interesting to anyone? Unlikely! But that’s not why I write here, really, though I hope it’s at least mildly entertaining for whomever stops by.

What I’m Reading

I just started Screaming on the Inside, one in a new-ish genre of “hey, modern motherhood is kind of a fucking shitshow?” A lot of women are writing about that right now and I’d certainly like to be one of them.

What I’m Watching

After a very, very long period of refusal, I’ve started watching the most recent season of Stranger Things with V. I don’t exactly remember why I tried to boycott; I think at the time it premiered, a school shooting had just happened and I couldn’t deal with violence of any kind. Still don’t love it, but am looking away when I need to. I’d rather be watching Bridgerton, tbh. (Kind of joking kind of not?)

What I’m Looking Forward To

Uh, most definitely our vacation in March. Only 51 days to go!! (I have a countdown app, of course)

What I’m Fuming About

This fucking idiot.

~Transitions~

My last post mentioned the importance of perseverance, and how I was trying to persevere in my job hunt despite the rejections and/or other obstacles I was facing. And surprise! Persevering worked. I got a job. And not just any job…a *good* job that feels like a genuinely *good* fit, albeit <2 weeks in.

The timing couldn’t have been better. I interviewed in late July, got an offer in early August, and was able to plan my start date for the same week that Ashwin started daycare. Literally zero weird in-between period where he was gone and I had nothing to do. The job is highly interesting and the people I’m working with have been lovely and welcoming. It feels right, it actually feels really right and I’m so thankful.

Daycare…is another beast. I mean, I do still think it’s good for him, but the transition has obviously not been smooth, nor did I expect it to be considering he’s spent his entire life in the care of either his parents or his grandparents. Daycare is a really foreign new thing, and even though it’s a fantastic facility with sweet and skilled teachers whom I trust, it’s been hard on all of us. We’re talking full-on dropoff meltdowns with his teachers having to pry him off my body. I don’t recommend starting your workday that way. BUT, when we picked him up yesterday afternoon, he WASN’T CRYING for the first time and seeing a smile on his face just…warmed me all over. I’m hoping we’re past the worst of it, but because he only goes two days a week, it’s anyone’s guess how he’ll react next week when it’s time to go again.

Kids, man. Who knew we’d be like this.

***

In other news, I continue my never-ending quest to make mom friends. I may have embarrassed myself a bit doing so a couple weeks ago. Ashwin and I were out walking the neighborhood, as we did pretty much every day, and happened upon a neighbor family hanging out on their lawn. We chatted, and it turned out that the couple had a little boy almost exactly Ashwin’s age. They sort of played alongside each other like toddlers do for awhile, and I chatted some more with the boy’s mom while her husband did yard work. She seemed about my age, maybe a little younger, and frankly those two factors – child close to Ashwin’s age, mom close-ish to my age – are all the compatibility I need to get started on trying to make a friend these days. As we talked, I think I probably came across a little desperate. I shared some things that most people probably would not share until they’d hung out with someone more than once. I was acting, let’s just say it, pretty thirsty.

The whole interaction was probably less than 30 minutes. I’m trying not to shame myself about it too much, because I don’t think anything I said was *too* terribly cringe and also because…this is kind of the best way I know how to make friends. And it works with some people, but not others. Vulnerability is not the only way to get to know people, but it has in my experience proved itself to be the fastest. But if I could do this particular interaction over again, I’d probably button myself up a little more and act like I’d spoken to another adult woman before.

***

What I’m Reading

I finished Dirtbag, Massachusetts which was okay but honestly over-hyped. I blame the Buzzfeed Industrial Complex.

What I’m Watching

Reservation Dogs. Every episode is so different, even though you’re following all the same characters in mostly the same setting. Also MasterChef: Back To Win because MasterChef is something V and I have watched together for years and years and we both really love Gordon Ramsay. Tonight, of course, brings the NFL back into our lives and we’re both in two different fantasy leagues, so that’s about to take over our Sundays.

What I’m Listening To

Until yesterday, a hell of a lot more FM radio than I’d like, because I was having major cell phone issues for a few weeks and couldn’t listen to my own music or podcasts in the car. I learned that the “oldies” station in our area now plays the ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s, which means there’s plenty of song material from *my* childhood and not *my parents’* childhood as I am used to hearing from that station. The passage of time, ah, et cetera. In actuality most of what they played was ’80s, and they were really overplaying “Walk Like An Egyptian”.

What I’m Looking Forward To

…Do I even need to say it?

So to that end I’ve been trying to “decorate the house for fall” which I put in quotes only because it’s not something I’ve ever really done before and I have no idea what I’m doing other than trying *desperately*…**DESPERATELY**…to avoid this genre of aesthetics and decor:

…with little luck so far. If you have any tips for non-Christian Girl Autumn decor, you know how to reach me.

“Only boring people get bored” – Betty Draper

Not surprising that my social media break has brought on my first blog post in almost half a year. I apparently have things to say that must be said in some manner of public forum!!

Of course, nothing earth-shattering.

I deleted my Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter apps the day of the Uvalde shooting. I haven’t read a word about it since then and plan to keep it that way. Just from several days living in the world since then – overhearing conversations, seeing headlines, etc – I already know more than I wanted to.

When things like this happen (which is weekly? daily?) I struggle between feeling an obligation to bear witness, and the knowledge that constantly doing so is, um, highly detrimental to my mental health. Ignoring it seems like a privilege that many do not have, so I should suck it up and stare unthinkable tragedy in the face every single time, in the name of solidarity. So my train of thought goes. But that doesn’t actually…help anyone. I’m aware of what happened and I know, as everyone with half a brain does, that things need to change but reading every single article and tweet doesn’t accomplish any sort of change. My RTs aren’t doing anything. Bathing myself in the sludgy discourse of this inexorable American hellscape only succeeds in making me sadder, more hopeless, less able to think about anything but the hellscape, less able to be enjoy and be present in my own life.

I’ve always been interested in what goes on in other places. Other cultures, other countries, other families, other communities. I suppose because I found my own too boring. When you’re a kid, nothing’s worse than boring – as a grownup, you have the perspective to see what a blessing boring can be. I had a “boring” childhood – parents happily together, financially stable, loving home, safe community – and I couldn’t be more grateful for it now. But the urge to look and see what’s happening “out there” remains strong.

To take this idea even further – I’ve noticed a pattern I have when catching up with friends. They say “what’s new?” and I usually talk about either V or Ashwin. V is busy with work, Ashwin said a new word, etc. I avoid talking about myself, I think, because I fear I’m boring. Especially at this stage in my life as a stay-at-home mom. I rarely have an interesting personal answer to “what’s new”.

***

I am trying to get some part-time work in the near future. I’ve been saying that for awhile. But we found Ashwin a spot at a really great daycare starting at the end of August, and I will need a productive way to spend those days. I have all sorts of feelings about sending him to daycare, of course, but I think those are for another day. He needs to spend more time around other kids and we can only go on so many playdates.

Look at my baby though.

What I’m Reading

Take My Hand, by Dolen Perkins-Valdez. It’s about a young Black woman in 1970s Alabama who has recently begun her nursing career at a family planning clinic serving primarily local low-income Black folks…and you can probably guess where this is going. The RECENT history of forced sterilization in this country is fucking mad.

What I’m Watching

The MIL has introduced me to Korean soap operas on Netflix and we’re currently in the middle of Business Proposal. And yes, it’s absolutely overwhelmingly silly and overdramatic, but turns out that’s just what I need right now. I’m fully invested in Kang Tae-moo and Shin Ha-ri. Man, I wish some Indian soaps would make it to Netflix.

What I’m Looking Forward To:

V is off work this whole week! We were going to do a Detroit road trip but decided against it, so we’re doing a couple days in Chicago. In July we’ll be seeing Hannah Gadsby in Milwaukee, and in August seeing my boyfriend John Mulaney right here in Madison.

What I’m Fuming About:

I’m actively avoiding fuming. Social media break is definitely key here.

2021? I don’t know her

I don’t really feel like doing the whole New Years song and dance. Everybody says basically the same thing: 2021 was hard, really really hard, but it had some bright spots and here’s hoping for a better 2022. I don’t have anything much more original to say, unfortunately, but yet I’m compelled to say my piece regardless.

We watched Ashwin transition to solid foods, learn to walk, and get actually sick for the first time.

We visited family in Detroit and friends in Lacrosse, and that was it for traveling.

We got vaccinated and boosted, and longed for the day when Ashwin can do the same.

I didn’t get anything published, despite pitching a dozen times, but I did take a great freelancing class with the delightful and brilliant Amber Petty. I applied for a whole bunch of different jobs, and had zero interviews.

I went on probably a hundred stroller walks with Ashwin, which I deeply miss now that a) it’s freezing outside and b) he’s extremely uninterested in being in his stroller at all.

I tracked my food intake off and on and off and on. I lost about 10 pounds, may have gained half of them back since Thanksgiving, and continue to try to stop hating my body.

We bought a house, a whole goddamn house, that we are very slowly moving into.

I grew apart from some formerly very close friends and I’m still kind of grieving and processing that.

I tried to remember myself.

We got tons and tons and tons of takeout, mainly from Tipsy Cow, Tavernakaya, Monsoon Siam, and Bar Corallini. We spent a lot of money on groceries but did not actually cook much. I went to Target about four times a week on average. I drank a lot of strawberry acai lemonades.

We saw a small handful of movies in the theater. I had a Goodreads goal of 25 books, I made it through 20, and I’m perfectly fine with that.

I neglected laundry and the dishes and vacuuming and general tidiness to take depression naps.

I watched so much Phineas and Ferb. I watched so much Bluey, which is actually a delight, in very large part due to the Australian-ness.

I fell out of love with Aaron Rodgers, watched the Bucks and the lady Badgers volleyball team win national championships, and emerged victorious in the final season of the Best Friends Forever fantasy football league.

I witnessed my friends score some beautiful, hard-won victories, from pregnancy to promotions to sobriety.

We took family photos on two different occasions, once the three of us and once with the three of us plus my parents, brother, and SIL.

I haven’t the faintest idea what 2022 holds. Can our current dystopia outdo itself once more and render us speechless at what fresh horrors will come in the new year? I have no doubt. I would like to set goals, but I’ve never been good at that; I so dislike the potential for failure that it’s simply easier to pretend I don’t actually want to achieve anything. Look, more therapy fodder!!

Depression, but with memes!!

Something has changed in the last few weeks and I don’t really know what to think.

I’m…happy? But also VERY wary of happiness??

I’m eating well: tons of fruit, veggies, lean protein. I’m exercising, like, almost every fucking day whether it’s the circuit training I do at Orange Shoe or the walks I take with Ashwin. Sometimes I take two walks a day. I’m finally losing weight, little by little. I’m writing! I started a freelance writing course that I’m so far really loving and I published my first piece on Medium yesterday and as listicles go – true, they are kind of the dregs of the internet – I’m rather proud of it. I’m sleeping well. My skin is (mostly) clear. I have *energy*, which is the strangest feeling of all. (I still often nap when Ashwin naps, but not every day, and they aren’t depression naps!) I’m reading. I’m having fun with my son. I’m staying cleansed, exfoliated, and hydrated AF.

I don’t know if it’s superstition, cynicism, or your garden variety anxiety disorder, but when things are going this well, I feel very very nervous. Something is about to go terribly wrong. In therapy (I will never not want to make fun of myself after beginning a sentence like that) I’ve learned that anxiety is my lizard brain trying to protect me and keep me safe from danger. But there are really no predators to watch out for in the United States, circa 2021 (unless you count the unvaccinated! or the mass shooters! or the alligators! or the rapidly deteriorating planet!…) so my brain I guess has to come up with other threats to occupy itself. As it just did, without breaking a sweat.

*just gonna pretend this isn’t from LOTR*

Maybe part of it is just feeling weird about being 35 and approaching ~middle age~. I don’t want to get old. I mean, it’s always annoyed the shit out of me when people complain about aging – I always say “it’s better than the alternative!!” which is a glib way of saying “be happy you’re not dead”. I had a dream – nightmare, I guess – the other night that I was on a sinking ship and everyone was screaming and I was thinking “oh God this is really it oh my God I’m going to die this is actually going to happen what is going to happen what’s it going to feel like when will things just go black and how fucking terrifying is that”…and then I realized, as my head was underwater for a few seconds, that I hadn’t actually tried to swim. I brought my head up above water, breathed, and that’s when I woke up. Is there something profound there? Maybe. I don’t know.

I just don’t want to spend so much of my life worrying about death. That’s it. That’s probably the most intimate thing I’ve ever written here; I don’t like to talk about it OR write about it. But writing helps sometimes! So let’s give it a shot. Bow out now if you don’t want to hear about my history of death anxiety!!

When I was in elementary school, my parents went away for a weekend once and I stayed at my best friend’s house for a few days. We usually watched the TGIF lineup, but maybe it wasn’t Friday, because we watched Touched by an Angel instead. Remember that show? This episode’s premise was basically the storyline of that song “Last Kiss” by Pearl Jam – the song that made me a passionate hater of the band until I met V. (I’m still not, like, a fan but they’re okay. The song still isn’t.) It’s about some high school sweethearts who get into a car accident and the girl dies. Rock n roll!!! Anyway – I was traumatized by it. My parents spent so much time and energy sheltering me from “bad” TV and movies and music, and the thing that damaged me the most was this episode of Touched by a fucking Angel. I didn’t want to let my parents out of my sight for months. I wanted to go on every errand, every trip, because they wouldn’t get into an accident if I was there (so my thinking went).

Eventually I got over it – I guess just by becoming a teenager and all the self-absorption that comes along with that. And then for years and years I’d almost never think about death. It didn’t come up. I was lucky. In 2011-2012, we lost several family members in quick succession and while that was incredibly shitty and sad and depressing, it didn’t spur a return of my own specific death anxiety. Then in 2015, V and I started trying to conceive, and I gradually went off all of my depression and anxiety medications, which turned out to be a horrific mistake. I spent most of that summer crying. There were multiple days I left work early feigning illness after crying in the bathroom and then cried some more on the bus going home. Death was suddenly all I could think about. And I mean ALL. By the fall, I was back on the meds and slowly getting better. But it’s never completely gone away since then. I’m working on it in therapy.

Oof, that was a lot. And there’s oh so much more where that came from, but that’s for me and Dr. Sarah Byer to sort through. I guess I just wrote all this to…put it in perspective? I don’t know. Maybe I’ll write more about it some other time, or maybe I won’t. I don’t know if anyone relates or is at all interested.

Also: if you ever try to talk to me about any of this, I will change the subject to the Packers or my cat or something.

What I’m Reading:

I just finished Ace of Spades, which was described in reviews as “Get Out meets Gossip Girl”, which pretty much sold me, and that is accurate! It was good, entertaining, didn’t demand much from me.

What I’m Watching:

V and I have finished our Sex and the City rewatch but have yet to tackle the two movies. We’ve now begun a Veep rewatch. We binged the second season of Never Have I Ever in like two days, it was so so so good. Maitreyi Ramakrishnan FOREVER.

What I’m Listening to:

Still a lot of Olivia Rodrigo, but also a lot of random ’90s.

What I’m Looking Forward to:

Traveling to Detroit this week to visit family and show off this guy:

35

It is truly a delight to be writing this from a booth in Bassett Street Brunch Club, on my birthday, drinking a mimosa and waiting on my bacon and eggs and breakfast potatoes. Small pleasures! Thank God for vaccines!!!

I had planned on doing something out of the ordinary this morning – going kayaking, by myself. I’ve never gone kayaking period. But it seemed like fun? And not THAT hard? I ended up backing out at the last minute due to trepidation over the weather and irritation with myself for scheduling at 8:30 in the goddamn morning. I was full of ambition and the best intentions when I made the reservation. But I am 35, and it’s time to face facts: I am who I am, and I am not the sort of person who will get up early unless externally forced.

I do want to try kayaking, just to prove that I’m still capable of surprising myself and doing new things. When I was younger I used to quasi-fantasize about joining the military just to shock people. Obviously I’d never do it – I would hate absolutely everything about that experience, pacifist principles aside – but I loved the idea of upending people’s perceptions of me as coddled, or high maintenance, or wimpy, or whatever it might be. I am able to admit now that I am, to one degree or another, all those things. But I am tougher than I look. And at least you can’t say I’m not self-aware. LOL, somehow, a lack of self-awareness is worse to me than any of the other unflattering adjectives.

I downloaded an app called Peanut that is basically Tinder for moms looking for mom friends. Laugh if you want, God knows I did. I’m screening out anyone under 30 and anyone with more than 2 kids. I can’t handle that kind of stress even adjacently.

Still blonde, still blue-eyed, carrying about 50 more pounds than I’d like to be, but still trying valiantly to love myself every damn day. Trying to Mom, to Adult, to be some approximation of what 15-year-old Molly wanted to be at 35. It’s all a work in progress, all of it.

What I’m Reading:

Nerd alert: “The Secret Life of Groceries: The Dark Miracle of the American Supermarket“. It’s interesting, okay?

What I’m Watching:

V and I are reliving the early 2000s by rewatching Sex and the City. Carrie is even worse now that I’m the actual age she was supposed to be in the show. Miranda is still the best. Big is still tremendously unappealing.

Also, of course, watching the Bucks and the Hawks battle it out and fervently hoping we can at last, AT LAST see Giannis in the Finals.

What I’m Listening to:

Look, I’m quite sure I’m not the only 30-something woman tooling around town in my SUV bellowing out Olivia Rodrigo these days and feeling sullen. God, it’s brutal out here indeed.

What I’m Looking Forward to:

I’M SEEING ALANIS MORISSETTE IN SEPTEMBER!!!!! Remember, I was thinking of going in June 2020 in Seattle before 2020 became what it became. Now the tour has been rescheduled and I’m going to the stop in Chicago and I am PUMPED. Dare I say, without Alanis there would be no Olivia Rodrigo. And then where would we all be?

SconnieMolly does, in fact, live

I’m thinking a lot about India lately, for obvious reasons. Here are a bunch of ways you can contribute to COVID relief there. Please consider it. And yeah, I can’t help but be slightly skeptical of whether or not my money will reach who it’s intended to reach, but I had to do something and I’m okay with that gamble.

Despite the baby- and pandemic-shaped challenges in my life, I’ve been getting kind of annoyed with myself for not making a better go of freelance writing. Even though writing itself generally comes easily to me, the rest of it doesn’t – the actual business of how to get those writing gigs. There has to be a lot of self-motivation and like any independent businessperson, no one’s telling you what you need to do and you have to figure it out as you go. Some people thrive on that! I guess I’m just better at being a follow-the-directions type of person. I can do whatever you tell me to do. Just don’t ask me to make the rules up myself. I’ll write the shit out of the article/essay/whatever it is. I’ve got a “voice”, I can do research, I will make it sing. Give me the topic and I’ll go nuts. It’s just getting the topic that I really struggle with. I’m working on not dismissing every idea I get as too dumb, too niche, or too small. Anyone who’s spent 10 minutes on the internet can attest to the fact that people can and will get paid to write just about any damn thing.

I feel incredibly, incredibly lucky to have thus far escaped the pandemic without losing any loved ones. As I wrote on Facebook recently, a year ago I genuinely believed we were all – or at least, like, 75% of us – were going to die. I mean that absolutely literally, I was fully expecting an apocalyptic situation. It’s not like any of us have lived through a pandemic before, so we had no template to know what to expect – all there was to do was listen to media reports of varying levels of hysteria and stew in your own existential dread. I’m not saying the threat was overblown – not at ALL – just that I’m unspeakably relieved to be in a place now, about 14 months after it all began, where I and virtually all of my loved ones are vaccinated and reasonably safe. And we made it here all in spite of the idiots along the way who refused to mask, refused to believe the science, refused to take this in any way seriously – mostly just to own the libs. These “pro-lifers”. Seriously – fuck them.

There’s a lot of debate now about how much we should be opening up and what safety measures are still necessary and what exactly is safe for vaccinated people to do. Whenever there is that much confusion, I basically just try to tune out the noise and listen to my dad. Dr. Dan is the king of rational, reasonable, and calm; I highly recommend him.

Ashwin is 15 months now. He loves “walking” with us holding his hands. Thankfully, gone are the days of the 25 minute naps – he now just goes down once a day and often for around 2 hours. This is fucking magical. Honestly, I usually use that time to sleep as well, which I feel slightly guilty about considering all of the other MoRe PrOdUcTiVe things I could be doing. Sleeping through the night is still a crapshoot, so we’re trying to train him to fall back asleep on his own when he wakes up at 2am, which often means letting him cry it out for 15 minutes until we relent and go in. Our poor neighbors.

What I’m Reading:

I’m a couple chapters into “American Spy” by Lauren Wilkinson, but most nights when I fall into bed all I want to do is play a few rounds of Tetris before passing out, so I’m not making a ton of progress.

What I’m Watching:

Prestige TV is about the only thing the pandemic has been good for, right? We recently binged and loved Ted Lasso. I want to watch Rutherford Falls but we don’t have Peacock. (Seriously ENOUGH with all the different streaming services, YOU’RE JUST RECREATING FUCKING CABLE) Right now we’re into Mare of Easttown, which is pretty grim, but also really really good and Kate Winslet is Kate Winslet.

What I’m Seething About:

Whatever it is Aaron Rodgers thinks he’s doing. I am extremely emotionally invested in Aaron Rodgers as a person and as a Packer so this has been a rather traumatic week for me!! Sports, such a nasty business.

Vaccine apartheid, which appears to be on its way out (if press releases are to be believed, lolololol) but which should never have happened in the first place, OBVIOUSLY, because Western lives aren’t worth more than any others!!

Keepin’ On

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!

Curveball, Part II

It was just a little over two years ago that I told y’all we were hitting the road for Seattle, and now the time has come to tell you that we’re officially coming back to Madison.

img_20200614_201424
Just like the first couple of months of my pregnancy, I haven’t blogged in awhile because I couldn’t not talk about this major but tentative thing in my life – so now that everything’s official with this move I have to spill.
If you recall, this was always the plan – spend 2 or 3 years in Seattle while V gets the experience of working for one of the biggest companies in the world, and then return. It turns out that V will still be an Amazon employee after we move, albeit under a different team, but Ashwin’s birth definitely is the reason we’re leaving after 2 years instead of 3. Had I not gotten pregnant, I think we probably would’ve stayed another year at least, because we both really love this city. Madison is home, but I firmly believe that Seattle is the most naturally beautiful city in the country. It’s not like we are the outdoorsiest of people – um, I believe I’ve called myself quite the opposite – but the mountains and the water and all the hills are so spectacular that it’s enough to make a nature lover out of anyone. I hope we’ll be back for vacations, to show Ash where he came from.
It’s just too hard – emotionally and practically – to raise a child on the other side of the country from virtually everyone you know and love. Some people do it and my hat is off to them – some people don’t have much choice. I just really need my people, now more than ever, and I’m not ashamed! Our actual moving date is still TBD, but it will be in the next month or so.
I don’t know what I’ll be doing when we get back. As in, I truly have no idea. I don’t think I am cut out to be a full-time stay at home mom indefinitely. And I want to keep writing. Those are the two things I know for sure…so I’m just trying to have faith that the right gig will come along sooner or later.

I don’t have any regrets about coming here. We both got what we wanted out of it and more. Granted I am a little sick of moving (and I’m sure my family is sick of helping me move) but this was the right thing for us: coming when we did, and leaving when we are.
***
I don’t know if I can ever properly thank my mom and my MIL for everything they’ve done for us since Ash was born. Getting up at ungodly hours, hand-washing bottles over and over, cooking amazing meals…it literally overwhelms me to think about the love they have shown us. No two people on this planet better embody the fact that love is a verb.
Most of the time I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing with Ashwin. In the beginning, everything was 100% a guessing game, trial and error, throw every idea at the wall and see what sticks. Now that we have a few months of living with him under our belts, I’d say now the guessing game is the way we make maybe 65% of parenting decisions. We observe him like goddamn research scientists, tracking his every poop and bottle, trying to make sense of it and discover patterns and ways to predict future behavior – but it’s really useless because he’s constantly changing. One week he might be eating 3 ounces every 3 hours, the next week it might be 4 ounces every 2 hours. On Monday he could sleep from 10pm-5am and on Tuesday go to sleep at 9, wake up at 12, again at 3, again at 6, again at 9. And it all falls within the vast, vast spectrum of “normal”. So there’s nothing to be done but just tag along for the ride; he’s unquestionably the captain of this ship.
***

Things I’m Looking Forward to Upon Moving Home:

Friends and family
Air conditioning
Culver’s
Real Italian sausage (oh yeah um…I’m not strictly speaking a vegetarian anymore) (but I still try to limit meat)
Actual winter
The farmers’ markets
Devil’s Lake

Things I Will Sorely Miss About Seattle:

Endless food delivery options
Mt. Rainier visible on sunny days
Biscuit Bitch
Tillamook ice cream
Queen Anne Avenue
Green Lake
My nail salon
The view of Lake Union and Eastlake from our apartment
The view of Lake Union and Queen Anne Hill from I-5
Wag walks
The light rail

Things I Will Not Miss About Seattle:

Absurdly high cost of living
Not being able to go for a walk around our apartment without negotiating some really seriously steep hills (undesirable in general, downright offensive with a stroller)
Weed smell (I don’t care one way or the other about weed! Legalize it!! But I do not personally partake and the smell is among my least favorite things in the whole world)
Thinking every day about the Cascadia Subduction Zone and mentally preparing for an apocalyptic quake (I’ve linked to this article before and it is very very scary and you’ve been warned)

***

What I’m reading:

Just finished “Know My Name” by Chanel Miller, the “Emily Doe” in the Brock Turner rape case of 2015. Brave is a pathetic understatement for the way she took on this gut-wrenching journey.
Next up…I don’t know? Whatever’s on my Kindle? Because all my books are packed away and the library still isn’t open.

What I’m watching:

Well we finished the LOST rewatch, and I was rather let down by the finale this time. I still think it’s beautiful, but just not quite satisfying.
Last night and tonight we watched two episodes of Sherlock with the MIL. I don’t know what it is about British television that is so darn comforting. Just watching the show makes me feel like I’m in a cozy living room with a warm blanket and my cat on my lap and a bowl of popcorn and a ginger ale and snow falling outside. Literally hygge.
AshwinTV, aka the baby monitor, aka the live feed of my son tossing and turning in his bassinet and making me constantly think he’s about to wake up and eat, when in reality he is probably just going to fall back asleep (NOT THAT I’M COMPLAINING!)

What I’m listening to:

“Sonic Boom”, the podcast about how the Seattle Supersonics were taken from our fair Emerald City to…Oklahoma City back in the halcyone days of (*checks notes*) 2008. I wasn’t super aware of the background drama when it happened, so I’m loving learning all this goss now as a (not for much longer) Seattleite. The city really got screwed.

***

For the most part I have no idea what our new life in Madison will be like, but I am excited to find out, and excited to be going…yes…home.

The dog days of fall

I am terrible at blogging regularly. But here we are.

And I am quite lonely. The Holidays® are approaching and we will not be doing anything for Thanksgiving. Maybe we’ll attempt a pie; I think that’s the least we can do. But there won’t be any family, there won’t be any decorations. There probably won’t even be a food coma – not that that will stop me from napping. Oh believe you me, it will not. I guess it’s just that I had thirty solid years of pretty perfect Thanksgivings that I apparently took for granted.

So I am trying to focus on Christmas, when we’ll be home for two weeks and will have time to see all of our people and do The Holidays® right, and my parents’ house will be a cozy, warm, softly-lit Christmas paradise like it always is. That image is basically getting me through right now.

Image result for perfect hygge christmas" — *it feels like this.*

They say motherhood, the early days at least, can be really isolating – just you and your crying baby, awake at 12am and 2am and 4am and God knows when else. That’s probably true, but I think pregnancy itself can be isolating too. I don’t have another woman to share any of this with, so I’m forever posting and scrolling around on my Facebook due date groups looking for some small piece of camaraderie/sisterhood/something. I pester my friends who are moms with tons of questions. I try not to talk about it too much with my friends who aren’t moms, lest they think I’ve become totally consumed with this nameless, amorphous creature that belongs more to the future than to the present.

What I’m reading: Just started “Over the Top“, JVN’s memoir, after finishing “The Witches Are Coming” by Seattle’s own Lindy West. She’s one of my favorite feminist thinkers, so her book of essays was a treat. I also recently finished Watchmen, the original graphic novel, and am now understanding, and consequently enjoying, the HBO version much more.

What I’m watching: Watchmen. Not much else? The Man in the High Castle too, but I feel like the gap between seasons has been so long that I’m not as invested as I had been, because I don’t remember some of the finer points. We also got Disney+ of course, and V’s first priority with that has been watching all the Star Wars movies, and I sort of dip in and out of that.

What I’m annoyed about: Oh God, so so many things, I am so glad you asked…

apartment maintenance for some reason put two big stacks of orange cones right next to our parking space in the garage, between our space and the door that goes outside, making passenger-side access to our car extremely difficult for, again, no apparent reason but storage
I think I need new walking shoes? Something to better support these tired bones in my quest for near-daily constitutionals
the impeachment hearings – like, I am very glad they’re happening, but it really feels like an Al Capone/tax evasion situation, you know? Because we know dude has done sooo much worse than try to get a foreign government to get dirt on a political rival, but maybe that’s all we can actually *get* him on? At least for now? I just would really like to see him brought to account for, say, racist housing discrimination, and/or rape, and/or probably a million kinds of financial fraud, and/or literal Soviet puppetry
I have felt very minimal, if any, movement from Baby Nagappala, which isn’t technically concerning at 22.5 weeks with an anterior placenta but sure is annoying when the Facebook due date groups are abuzz with posts and videos of belly kicks and punches and somersaults
the Packers – when they lose it always puts me in a mood.

What I’m looking forward to:

Christmas in Wisconsin, obvs
I’m thinking of booking a maternity photo session if I can find something reasonably priced. It seems worth it to commemorate this time, especially if I can be commemorated looking all glamorous and ethereal. Especially since this could be my only pregnancy – who knows.

I will leave you with some highly relevant pregnancy memes that describe my current life.

Image result for pregnancy memes"

Mandatory side sleeping: the second majorly painful sacrifice expecting moms must make (after avoiding alcohol). (I would kill for a mimosa.) (But I know some FB moms who are planning on chugging a beer right after delivery and it’s like…I think you might have a problem)