Michael takes his son to the playground most mornings.
Michael laughs at Lizzie’s jokes and lets her interrupt his work to show him pictures she has drawn. (Lizzie sometimes feels guilty about this).
Michael, in general, does not interrupt Lizzie when she is drawing pictures or reading books or thinking deeply about what books she hasn’t read but would like to.
Michael’s favorite meals are Chaboni yogurt, a cheese and tomato panini, or chocolate milk and quesadillas.
Michael eats the corn on the cob that Lizzie makes almost every night, even though it isn’t his favorite.
Michael likes all of Lizzie’s Facebook posts, even though Lizzie only sees a few of Michael’s posts, and only likes the ones she understands. (Lizzie recognizes she could probably understand most of them if she tried. She feels guilty about this).
Michael doesn’t eat avocado because it makes his throat itchy and tense, but when he eats it anyway, he smiles.
Michael knows the way to In-N-Out.
Michael beats Lizzie at Scrabble every time.
Michael turns the AC on for cool air and white noise before Lizzie puts the toddler to bed.
Michael brings Lizzie lunch during class when she forgets breakfast.
Michael helps Lizzie find her glasses when they are on her head.
Michael helps Lizzie find the toddler when she forgets that she is holding him.
Michael tells Lizzie if she has a text so that she doesn’t need to own a phone, which Lizzie appreciates very much.
Michael shares his favorite yogurt with the toddler.
Michael takes out the trash.
Michael doesn’t mind that Lizzie doesn’t take out the trash, or at least he doesn’t say anything.
Michael compliments Lizzie when she does the dishes.
Michael compliments the lawn after Lizzie gives it a bad haircut with scissors. It is a very small lawn.
Michael compliments Lizzie when she gives him haircuts, and does not bring up the very bad haircut she once gave him.
Michael gives the toddler his vitamin in the morning.
Michael tells Lizzie that the toddler has already had his vitamin when the toddler asks for another before bed.
Michael sometimes gives the toddler a chocolate sandwich in the morning.
Michael does not always tell Lizzie that he gave the toddler a chocolate sandwich in the morning. They are very small sandwiches.
Michael walks the same pace as Lizzie, which is more leisurely than average, except when Lizzie is anxious or running behind.
Michael takes many naps, but for short periods of time.
Michael likes hand massages from Lizzie.
Michael takes the toddler to the babysitter when Lizzie wants to sleep in.
Michael wakes up before the toddler, which is saying something. Sometimes, when Lizzie does not want to get up in the morning, Michael brings her chocolate and slides it gently between her teeth.
These days, I’ve been making a daily doodle and posting them on Facebook and Instagram. It’s more manageable and helpful (I’m finding) than trying to tackle bigger projects right now. If you want to follow, feel free, though I’ll probably post them in batches on here every once in a while 🙂 stay safe and sane!
I keep looking it up and I get a bit of science: your first period after having a baby may come 6-8 weeks after childbirth, or if you are nursing, may come as late as a year or later. Your first period may be especially heavy and painful, and may involve the removal of excess lining that wasn’t shed immediately after birth. Your first period after having a baby signifies the first egg released from your ovaries since having a baby, and this is important, because you need to know that you can get pregnant before your first period after having a baby.
You, meaning, the hypothetical you. Not me—we took care of that, severed the gateway between ovaries and womb. If we have more children, it will be in years ahead when our two babies are older, when I feel in good health, when our finances are stable. If we have children in the years ahead, I will not have carried them.
So I’m having this, my last first period after having a baby. I’m pulling out the old equipment—literally. I still have pads from an earlier era, and I use a menstrual cup, which I mention because I only heard about if a few years ago and I think its genius. If you have periods, look it up.
My abdomen is cramping and I am bleeding. Unlike every period I’ve had before, no egg will come out in this shedding. It is, I presume, stuck at the dead end of a Fallopian tube.
I forgot, by the way, how messy it is, or at least how messy it would have been a couple hundred years ago, if all I had to staunch the bleeding was cloth—can you imagine? So I guess I don’t envy women of old.
So I’m thinking about my two babies, my four year old and my just-barely-turned-one year old. How pregnancy was like spinning out on ice in the middle of my carefully planned road trip. Both times, laid up and ill for the entirety of pregnancy, and weaker afterwards for the ordeal. How sweet it was to finally have my babies, hold them. Not easy—exhausting, sleepless, difficult. Bone wearying and at times devastating, to see my babies get hurt, to see my own limitations, to fear for their safety. But sweet, and revolutionary. An atomic evolution of my deepest desires.
I would have another right now, if I didn’t know what pregnancy would do to me and my family. And if I hadn’t foreclosed the option—but I stand by the reason I did. These babies need a mom more than this mom needs more babies.
So I’m having my last first period after having a baby, and I almost want this moment to last. I almost like the familiar clingy plastic that covers the pads I unwrap. I almost love that I can expect this monthly mess for the next three decades of my life. I keep wanting this to be a special right of passage, or if not that than some kind of sad occasion. I keep looking it up online as if I will find the answers I want. I keep reminding myself I won’t get the answers online so I need to just write it out, which is why I’m here. But I missed the apex of my moment. I waited, and my period is already almost over. I didn’t expect it to pass so quickly.
First, the film Just Mercy is incredible. It is really hard, and really hopeful–which is not just a cliche. The most hopeful things are always companion to the worst tragedies and wrongs.
It was a gut punch to realize that much of this took place in 1988, the year Michael was born, and that the Sheriff was never arrested and reelected sheriff, serving until 2019.
I highly recommend you watch it, and this month you can watch it for free, either at Amazon or YouTube and I believe elsewhere.
Before and since watching, I’ve been thinking about the nature of privilege, and wondering about the differences between racism and sexism or ableism.
I use the graphs to point out that privilege is not about individuals, but about group trends. Some individuals in a privileged class will have more hardship that some individuals in a vulnerable class, but there is still a demographic gap that needs attention, especially for Black people and Non-Black people of color.
Sexism and ableism are both real and can be very dangerous. Michael has had the cops called on him twice just for being with our kids when I’m not there, just because he has Cerebral Palsy (even though he is an attorney and was close to our home both times). People with disabilities are at a huge risk of being killed by police. Nearly half of all people killed by the police have a disability—more on that another day. Women are also at serious risk of a variety of violent crimes, particularly within their own households. The same goes for children and the elderly.
However, sexism and ableism do not involve the kind of public, violent societal posturing that racism or nationalism have. I think this in part because racism and nationalism are about one community or group having power over another community or group, rather than within. There will be women and disabled people in every community, and women and disabled people have naturally occurring vulnerabilities that can be easy to exploit and systemically perpetuate or amplify.
But when you are talking about an entire community of people, the uneven playing field is not naturally occurring. It may be a remnant of the past, but given a fair start, either community is not naturally less powerful than another community. This means that, as long as another community is in power and as long as *some members* of that community want to stay in relative power, there will need to be more public displays of violence.
That doesn’t have to mean violence towards everyone in the community they want to oppress; it only takes a few instances to make “examples.” Even if only a small number of black men are killed innocently and never receive justice, that sends a message.
Most white people do not want to send that message or perpetuate community differences. However, there are SOME white people who do, and until ALL white people recognize that some cops or judges or politicians want to keep racial power, there’s no way to check the inordinate power of those cops and judges and politicians. That doesn’t address every aspect of privilege or racism, and doesn’t get take into account implicit bias, but I think it is a critical part of what is going on now.
I don’t know exactly what to do with that recognition, in part because I believe the answer to that will be different for different people. But nothing else can change without that recognition.
It’s one of my favorite essays, and will probably always be, even if my writerly style changes more over time. Life is a little different now that we have kids, but it’s a really sweet reminder of our dating and newly wed days.
Michael was under the weather. I had a sore throat that seemed a little worse than usual. Someone in the area had a birthday party and dozens attended. Our local hospital asked everyone in our area to receive the test. Combine all that with my natural inclination to be an obedient citizen, and getting a test just seemed like the “right” thing to do. Now, I wish I hadn’t.
Sometimes you critique something you think is important. This is one of those times. We need Covid-19 testing. I just think we need testing to be more transparent and more workable for patients.
First and foremost, I put my family at risk. Going to get the test was the most exposure to covid-19 I have likely had. Social distancing at the testing site? Yeah, sort of. In a technical kind of way. Masks? Most people wore them, but not everyone, and it’s nearly impossible not to fidget with a cloth mask when you are sweltering under the hot son. Anyway, masks are mostly supposed to protect others, not the wearer–so that didn’t seem super effective when only some people were wearing them. Going meant leaving our careful little bubble and coming in close proximity to a group of people who had a high chance of being infectious.
Second, going took up our hospital’s time, space, and resources. We had been distancing well. There was always a chance we had been exposed through, say, our groceries, but we had no reason to suspect it. Feeling a little under the weather was attributable to spring allergies, which Michael and I both have.
I took up time. Given the long lines, I’d guess the hospital staff had to stay later than they originally planned. I also took up space in the line, which was a big deal given how many people who were elderly had to wait in line the whole time. (Seriously. Elderly patients should not be asked to wait in line under a hot son for an hour).
To be fair, I feel like I should have kept my wits about me better and reasoned that I was not likely to have Covid. But it might have felt a little more intuitive to stay home if the hospital had not requested that everyone, including those without any symptoms and without any outside contact, come in for a test. Especially when so many had to wait in line in the heat, including the sick and elderly.
Third, going to get the test took a toll on me personally–which isn’t the end of the world, but it would have helped to know beforehand so my family could plan around it better.
It was hot and sunny, and I was not prepared to stand outside for the hour it took. I thought the test would be a drive-up test, as I had seen in videos on Facebook. I was told that if I pre-registered (which I did), it would take a total of 5-10 minutes. My guess is that there were more people than they expected, and they weren’t prepared to handle so much. Which is not their fault, and I don’t think anyone deserves blame. But I still think it’s fair to talk about so people know better what to expect, and if enough people talk about it, maybe some sites could be better prepared.
Fourth and last, (and probably least important, but still), the test hurt. A lot. I left crying involuntarily, as did the girl behind me. In the single article I’ve found talking about this, commenters said things like They must have been millennials and Some people can’t take a pinprick and It’s just like the flu shot, no big deal. I even saw several comments say that calling the test “painful” was irresponsible.
Well. It isn’t necessarily just like the flu swab, as there are different flu nasal swab tests. Some go an inch into your nose; some go four inches into your nose and back to your pharynx. This one goes back to your pharynx. Most of the people who’ve had it that I’ve talked to said it was some level of painful.
Also, even if some people don’t find it painful, that doesn’t mean it won’t be very painful for others. For one, everyone has a different nose. Someone could have a different size or shape of their nostril, which could have a big impact on how painful a test was. Someone could have had already inflamed nasal passageways, which could make it more painful. The test felt very painful and invasive to me, and it just feels manipulative when everything I read online says “It might be uncomfortable, but not painful.” Judging by my experience, the test could have have sent Michael into spasms and could have seriously injured him (and hurt the tester, really), had he come with me and received the test. It’s still an important test, but people should know what they are getting into.
Some of these issues were specific to my location. I think a drive-by would have been much better, which is what I’ve heard of from most people. That seems less likely to cause exposure in those getting tested. It also would be more sustainable for the sick and elderly.
I think it also might be worth embracing alternative testing methods, such as at-home saliva tests, in addition to the formal test. I know that they have a higher chance of producing a false-negative, and that could result in a false sense of security. However, I think the same could be said for the nasal swab if masses of people congregate to the same place for testing. I, for example, received a negative result. If I had become infected at the testing site, I would still have received a negative result, but would have had an even stronger false sense of security than if I had only taken an at-home test.
I also think we need some sense of moving forward and looking for better options–which means being allowed to talk about the risks and problems of getting tested in the first place. I think it is important to offer accurate information for other people who might receive a test. I think people deserve to know if their will be a line with other people or if the test will be painful, even if that would be politicized unfairly. It has to be okay to talk about these things, to raise issues and concerns.
This is a new, strange, bizarre journey for all of us. I hope we can make it the best it can be.
One thing (among many) that I love about the journal Sweet: A Literary Confection is that they spotlight previous contributors and give them a chance to talk a bit about their writing and reading. It was fun to think about what I’m doing with reading and writing at the moment, and putting it into words.
Knitting and crocheting and other fiber arts have made somewhat of a comeback in recent years, but they remain, in my estimation, underestimated.
As a process, yarn crafting and fiber arts offer meditative stillness and gentle momentum. The repetition of pulling through a loop or threading a stitch is natural and ancestral. It bears the rhythm of the elements, the ebb and flow of water and the current of wind. Fiber art pieces develop slowly, appearing in completion like a morning glory after days or weeks of winding upward. Yarn crafting is therapeutic, reducing depression, anxiety, insomnia and dementia, along with having other health benefits.
For some, now could be an ideal time to learn crocheting, knitting, cross-stitching or hand-sewing. While much thought can go into the colors and design, the bulk of the work is done in simple, repetitive steps. I sometimes tell myself that if I feed my brain good “food,” I won’t want to “snack” as much during the day with, say, endless social media scrolling. I consider crochet as part of the good food category, even though it isn’t as dense or chewy as some things.
Lately I’ve mostly made a bit of progress on a sleeping mat I am making. This is a huge project I’ve already spent, I’d guess, over fifty hours on (including cutting up plastic bags into two-inch rings and looping them together to make plarn). This project is easier done in groups just because of the sheer size of the project, though I’ve also found it fulfilling to work on alone. When I’m done, we’ll bring it to our local homeless shelter. The mats are lightweight and easy to carry, easy to wash off, pretty durable, insulating, thick and cushy.