Tired with a side of anger

I guess it started this morning when we all awoke in a hurry. The boys' school conferences started at 7:30am, and I still needed to pack lunches. Tom, who arrived home last night at 11, was funked out and tired. 

It regularly galls me how much slack the women of the world pick up and manage every.single.day. How much mediation and support and love and lunches and phone calls and pediatric forms and organization and so forth so many men cannot do, will not do, do lazily or never even consider doing.

And sometimes, it fucking exhausts me.

I went and paid the floor refinishers who finally were able to remedy the flooded family room situation. I went and dealt with the painters who, I later found, got paint on the cherry cabinets. I packed those damn lunches and later picked up the child with a cold and sixty minutes later the child without a cold. I organized dinner, both of them. I provided the hugs and comfort when the boys cried upon hearing that their old rooms had been painted over (this was after my second trip to the old house today).

Today I am tired. Tired of being strong. Tired of feeling like the fucking sugar plum fairy of emotions and to-dos and everything besides making money.

I'm tired of being ogled by a painter the other day and feeling a bit worried because I was alone with him and his crew in our new house and he kept asking odd questions.

I'm tired of feeling sad about Percy and like I let him down. He is so loved now, but when I see his little face, I feel awful.

I'm tired of fucking winter and the snow we're supposed to get tonight. I'm tired of days off of school and rude people like that "greeter" at the gym who could not hate everyone more and lets you know it.

I'm tired of stupid asshole, racist, destructive Donald Trump and his equally abhorrent peer, flaccid-penis Ted Cruz. Because I am tired, I don't give a crap about just having told you all that Ted Cruz always reminds of a flaccid penis and a mean one at that.

I am tired of obligations- the wrong kinds, not the right ones. Tired of the dirtiest politics ever that have nothing to do with the well-being of this country or its people but everything to do with individual narcissism and greed.

I felt so sad today while at the old house, picking up the glow-in-the-dark planets and stars that once decorated Jack's ceiling and looking carefully enough at Ol's walls to just make out the green stripes I'd painted for him. I felt so sad when I walked around the yard and saw all the plants and bulbs I've loved and tended over the years coming up earnestly. We won't get to enjoy them this spring.

I realized that I've been so busy that I've never said a proper goodbye to that wonderful home. Tonight that goodbye was foisted upon me.

I stuffed my pockets with planets and stars and our old spare key and a few more knick-knacks. And then I came home to tell the boys, and we all cried together.

Diary of a move, 9: Additional delights

Oooh wee, y'all. All the stress and mayhem and work of moving was SO worth our wonderful new home. The light, the space, the little treats I couldn't have foreseen.

For starters, the ninety-second walk to the fabulous playground/park I mentioned is more awesome than I ever imagined. We tumble out our front door, meander across this delightful roundabout,

walk past one of those charming Little Free Libraries that a neighbor erected in his front yard because his wife wanted one (collective "aw" and also a thank you), and into the park. 

We spent yesterday evening and also this afternoon there, and the boys' glee and laughter is priceless. Plus the burning of their energy is fab.

There is just so much warmth and community here, and we all feel and adore it. Plus, from the Little Free Library I gained a copy of The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks which I have long wanted to read. It's a total page-turner so far.

I've met the three women who live on the other corners of our roundabout, and they are all utterly lovely. Nutmeg and I enjoy sitting on our front stoop looking out at the pretty circle and listening to the symphony of bird calls and the breeze that seems to blow constantly. 

And, do you know what sits just beside my driveway???? 

A real mailbox! People stop all the time to mail letters and bills, and I just delight in what feels like complete old-fashioned behavior. Real mail! I love the steady claim to space an official mailbox provides. I love the heavy metal clink of the door as it dumps post into its belly. And I love the regularity with which someone comes to fetch it all and take it away to be sent out across the world.

That mailbox is one of the elements of this new home that I most love I think. I've already written quite a few letters and know that will continue.

We've already hosted our first party, too, a casual Academy Awards celebration on Sunday night. My parents have hosted one every year since 1981, and it's always been a favorite tradition of mine. Dress code is black tie or blue jeans, and Mom and Dad have always merged the two into a smashing style. 

Aren't they adorable?

This was my take on things, plus high heels of course. We had a ball, I loved Alicia Vikander's gown, and this Green Goddess dip with crudités was awfully delicious.

Life is good AND February is over. Woot!

Of rain and pears and cardamom and bolognese

The morning after finding peace with all the infernal rain earlier this week, I received a call from the foreman of the crew refinishing our old house's floors. The torrential deluge and attendant wind had forced their way in, leaving standing water on some of the newly sanded and sealed oak planks. 

Fantastic. Just marvelous. File that one under #itsalwayssomething

But OK. We have a good team over there, and the other floors are fine and look great. It's just stressful and annoying but it's fixable. I managed to bury my angst in two new, inexpensive kitchen utensil holders from Crate & Barrel. The simple thrill of wooden spoons in one and ladles in whisks in the other was uplifting. And I needed the freed-up drawer space, so these pretties are a win all around. 

It's lovely to feel settled in to my new kitchen. Today I cleaned the windows until they sparkled, and it really does make all the difference. Jack's best buddy is spending the night tonight (Ol is staying over at one of his closest pal's homes), and I wanted to make a nice dinner for the four of us to enjoy. 

Pasta is always popular with kids but I wanted to push the limits a bit so chose a chickpea bolognese recipe by a foodie acquaintance of mine. It's been on my 'to try' list for a while now, was easy to pull together, and gives you a whole lot of veggies in each serving. 

The boys were definitely suspicious about it not being your standard bolognese, but they were troopers and ate enough to warrant ice cream.

They should have opted for a slice of this lovely cardamom and pear cake I made. Tom and I each had two slices. It's not too sweet and isn't flashy at all. Just solid and comforting and yummy. I love cakes made with sour cream.

cardamom pear cake

And now this guy.

Perfect way to end a week.