12 May 2020: Daily

Hi Friends, At nearly 9 weeks in, more to go, and more than 82,000 Americans dead, I am wondering if the coronovirus comedy stretch has reached its max. Though I have largely stopped reading parenting articles, and I have fully stopped reading parenting books, a friend sent me this tonight, and damn if it wasn’t as if this woman crawled in my head and wrote out so many, most, of my thoughts and feelings. Per the usual, don’t read the comments.

The author knows she is privileged. So do I. I feel grateful every day; that doesn’t make any of this easy.

This evening, while cooking dinner and after virtually cocktailing with my friend, L, with whom I virtually cocktail every Tuesday, thank you lord, I watched a Politics and Prose Live! event with Barbara Ehrenreich and Jia Tolentino, two of my favorite writers, activists, thinkers, and critics. They discussed economic inequality in times of crisis, specifically during the coronavirus pandemic. I cooked, fist-pumped, and commented my way through, and should you wish to watch the conversation, you may do so here.

It is starting to seem unlikely that the boys will return to school in person this fall, an idea made tougher by the fact that Jack has chosen to attend a new school for high school, and we still don’t know the yay/nay regarding camp this summer.

For now I guess I’ll just keep the damn tomatoes wrapped until we finally get warm weather, keep my fingers crossed for the little advancements, and laugh when the moments present themselves as one did yesterday morning when Oliver got in bed with me to snuggle before school, I quickly went to the bathroom, and when i returned he pulled up landwatch.com and a plot of land he wanted to buy in Baltimore County.

Wut?

Yes, Oliver is angling to buy some space where he can “dig and build.” Bless his heart. I wish I could provide him a parcel. He sent this treasure to all of his friends.

Jack snorted and said, “they misspelled sweet equity.”

I nearly perished. It’s the little things.

9 April 2020: Daily Humor direct from my children

Ah, friends. Last night I was reminded that in hard times, when raising children, pretty much throughout life itself, it is critically important to have a sense of humor and see the lightness in things when you can.

Picture it. And if you need a quick focus longtime friends and readers, this is more FBI than sink plants.

It’s after 7pm, and the boys, having finished a lengthy day of distance learning, were outside playing on a spectacularly balmy, beautiful evening. Oliver had recently come in sweaty, asking if he could bring the bottle of cold sparkling apple cider in the fridge out for him and Jack. I handed him two plastic tumblers and sent him on his way, thankful that they love playing together so much.

I turned my joint Hamilton and Queen playlist louder, checked on the turkey roasting in the oven, and gave thanks for a kitchen in which no one was talking. What heaven it is to be alone in a room sometimes! What bliss to think in unencumbered fashion, to be alone with your ideas and musings!

After the half hour chimed, I heard the kids tumble through the front door, laughing hysterically, and run towards the kitchen. I turned to them, smiling beatifically, for the turkey was golden, the fruit salad was tossed, the broccoli was steaming, my wine glass was full.

They could hardly speak, their laughter was that hearty, and then I noticed Jack clutching the empty cider bottle like a wayward drunk.

Oh dear. A bit of a stirring stirred. I turned down the music.

“Mom, OMG, it’s so funny, OMG, Mom, the neighbors, our bikes….” You could not make out details. Both talked as if seized by a loquacious spirit (which, frankly, isn’t that out of the norm, blessed is me).

“Boys, slow down.”

“Ok, we were riding around on our bikes, calling out ‘Bottle check!’ Boy is this champagne delicious. Oh, hey, watch out for the wombats. Do YOU need help catching the wombats in your house?”

Readers, they were swigging directly from the apple cider bottle, fully aware of walking neighbors’ suspicious glances their way, and carrying on about wombats and help needed in their capture.

I could only laugh. Roar with laughter, really. I am not sure I formulated words for many minutes. I was both marginally mortified and astonishingly proud. Then I had to send an email to our neighborhood listserv to assert that no, my children are not youthful alcoholics but, rather, cabin-fevered youth enjoying some much-deserved silliness and release.

I’ve received two responses: one from my next-door neighbor who snort-laughed a note: “Hah! Wombats!” and the other from a neighbor I don’t know but can tell I’d like: “Emily, this my favorite post of the corona era.  You are doing good, mom.  You will get through this with good memories.”

What a time to be alive, friends!

Ol is 11; humor break

Friends, I would be lying if I said I’m up tonight. I’m not. I’m tired AF. That said, as moms will, I do believe I ensured Ol had a marvelous birthday today (thank you Tom’s parents for coming over midday to celebrate with us; thank you friends and family for your many calls and FaceTimes), and that is most important. He’s 11, he feels love and feted, and he’s healthy. Winning. Plus Star Wars, in terms of both cake and the release of The Rise of Skywalker.

A few quick comedic shares (as always, things in blue are links: click on them for fun n joy)":

Did these Alabamans find a leprechaun? People, the sketch artist’s sketch. And the guy who says “See a leprechaun, say yay!” Also, the crackhead theory.

Tina is a queen!

legit

“Snow” angels.

Stay strong, friends!