Preparing for a Long Weekend, half-century version

Reporting live from downtown Oklahoma City:

I love travel. I love PLANNING to travel. I'll research places we're going, even just for an afternoon, to try to find the best opportunities for us to experience the area in ways that change as our family situation changes. When Mal was smaller, indoor playgrounds were a good deal, and you could forget any museum that wasn't specifically targeted at children. Now that he's getting older, we can do a wider variety of things (including expecting him to make it through an hour-long meal at a restaurant that isn't McDonald's with a Playplace... it's still kind of tough for him, but he CAN do it), and it's always fun to stumble onto cool places accidentally, as well.

So THAT I plan vacations very carefully hasn't changed. HOW I do it has changed a lot.

Especially when I had an eating disorder, a lot of my vacation centered around where and what I would eat, because vacations were "cheat days," all. I was able to throw off the disordered eating when we were traveling, and it was one reason I was so happy to get out and about. Now, I try to find a few highlights that seem like they'd be good, but know we'll never hit all of those places, and that we'll probably end up seeing a food truck or having some left-overs or other things we couldn't have anticipated before we actually did them. And while I look at menus to make sure there are a few choices for each of us (although sometimes I'll tell Mal just to tough it out with a soda and we'll find chicken tenders and fries for him later), I don't know exactly THE DISH I'm going to order at each restaurant months in advance.

Another thing I've changed is how I plan my travel wardrobe. When I was younger, I chose the cutest clothes I could think of for each day, plus a change of PJs every other night. Now, my entire mindset has changed. I end up in very few pictures, and I'm not particularly fussed about how put-together I look in the ones I'm in. Also, with a smaller vehicle and hating the post-vacation laundry trudge, I'm trying to travel lighter. So instead of the cutest outfit, I look at the anticipated temperature, and pick something that will work for that day AND for the next morning.

I typically get straight out of bed and walk in the morning, wearing what I slept in, which is usually what I wore the day before. I do this so when I get whatever I'm wearing sweaty and gross, it's fine to put in the dirty clothes hamper because I've already worn it a full day and night. Then I get dressed for the day after cleaning up.

Preparing to come to OKC, I knew that I only wanted to pack one bag for the three of us for three nights. So I didn't want to bring extra shoes. I needed my trainers for all of the walking we'd be doing (we valet parked the car and planned not to touch it until we leave tomorrow), so I chose outfits that were comfortable and would look okay with Skechers. They aren't my favorite-looking clothes. But they're fine. 20-something me would hate this whole thing.

I used to spend a lot of time on vacation fixing my hair, as well. Not anymore. My motto about that, as it is for most things these days, is: "It's fine." I'm here to relax. I'm not spending an hour with a blow dryer and iron every day. I'm here to have a good time. So I don't have to pack styling implements. In fact, since this particular trip is only 3 nights, I can get away with not washing my hair at all until we get back home. Far fewer toiletries this way.

Finally, I used to really stress over having the house clean with nothing waiting in the laundry or dishwasher before we'd leave for a trip. I considered cleaning the kitchen and bathrooms before we left (my usual day to do this is Friday or Saturday) but I decided that since D was going to be home, I'd probably want to clean up when we returned, anyway. D does keep things pretty well, but I have my own way of doing things. So I did do laundry the night before we left, mostly because I didn't want anything in my way when we got home and I knew I'd need to wash a load or two. But I didn't do anything with the kitchen or restrooms, and I just started a dishwasher load as we were heading out the door. D needed clean dishes for cat feeding.

The result of this was that we got up and leisurely loaded the car in preparation of leaving the house. It was so much better than being harried and hurried and trying to do as much as possible.

Maybe you CAN teach an old dog new tricks? Or maybe I'm just entering the enhanced potato phase of life. Either way, it's good. I'm a fan.

The Change (and no, I don't mean the SCC song)

In case you weren't deep in evangelical christianity in the early 2000s, the title is a reference to this. (I can't listen to much from these days without cringing, but this one aged okay.)

Now back to our regular programming.

We've established that I'm old. Like half a century old.

I have this very vivid memory from when I was a quarter century old:

I was dating a guy who was two decades my senior. He had this very intensive facial regimen he'd do every morning and night, and it had never occurred to me to do anything like that. Like, I washed my face, but when he cleansed, he left the wash on for a long time so it could "work." Then he'd moisturize. And do stuff for his crow's feet. It was the first and basically only time in my life that I started wondering, "Should I be doing something to keep from looking old?"

The answer I gave myself was "no," and I never looked back.

However, the pandemic did all of us who mostly wore make-up passively a big favor in that it normalized more fresh faces with minimal makeup. I've basically decided to buy into the conventional "pack light" wisdom that all I need is some eyeliner (I know, they say mascara but I can't wear that because it irritates my eyes... yes, even the hypo-allergenic stuff) and tinted lip balm.

My neighbor tells me that I'm lucky because I have "some natural color," whereas she's so pallid that when she was a small child, her mother wouldn't let her wear certain colors because she looked dead (also, she's in her mid-70s, so it was a different time).

I found a couple of similar pictures of myself. One is from today and one is from 12 years ago. I was mostly comparing a full face of makeup (the older picture) to me today. I have never worn heavy make-up, but in the picture from my 30s, I'm wearing powder, lipstick, eyeliner, eye shadow, and blush. Today, I'm only wearing eyeliner and lip balm. Oh, also, I don't color my hair anymore.

And, yes, I can see that I have some wrinkles around my eyes now that I didn't used to have. Also, my neck is probably wrinklier. However, I don't think the "even less make-up" takes much away.

The one concern I had is that I have a pretty high forehead (or what the kids called "five-head" a few years ago) that tends toward shininess. I'm using CeraVe Foaming Cleanser Bar in the morning and evening, and then moisturizing with an alleged "mattifying" lotion at night. I haven't noticed any matte effect, and my forehead is still glistens. I did get some oil-absorbing sheets... and I don't think it's oily. I don't know. I just glow, I suppose.

Anyway, something interesting has happened since I started washing my face twice a day instead of once and also moisturizing: My skin has cleared up. I mean, I've been fortunate to have pretty good skin, anyway, but had some bumps and just assumed that was what my skin was doing as I head into menopause. Turns out, maybe my face is tired after 35 years of having power all over almost every single day. 

Since I started drinking more water about a year ago (after GERD was massively negatively impacting my life so I gave up carbonated drinks for the most part), and have now started trying to "pack light" in my make-up life, I thought a couple of other things might be fun.

My feet have always been cracked and dry, and my mom has been on me most of my life to use lotion. It's always felt overwhelming to me, taking time to do that. I don't know why. I'm just not super fussy about my personal maintenance? Anyway, I've started doing that once or twice a day. The bottom of my feet will be okay for several hours, then it's a desert again. Will it ever stay better longer? Who knows. Will I tire of this and go back to having funky feet? Probably. Still, I always love a good experiment.

Oh, the other thing I decided to do was to stop biting my nails. I have always done it, and I don't care that I do it. But as long as I'm changing up my routine, I figured I'd throw that in, as well.

Finally, to address "the change" thing... For those keeping score, my current cycle has been 83 days. I've been fairly regular since I had D (and before that, I was on The Pill for 12 years, so it was like a clock), but in the past year, it's been slightly less predictable. Still 26-41 days. Once, it was 46 days, and then I was treated to 9 days of... um... fun? as a reward. No, thanks. This is definitely the longest by far.

I'm hoping maybe I pre-paid for this with all of the issues I had in my young adulthood and I'll be able to skate through to menopause without any major hot flashes or life upheavals. I have definitely noticed a change in my body shape, as explained in this paper, the summary of which is: "[G]oing through the menopause does not cause a woman to gain weight. However, the hormonal changes at the menopause are associated with a change in the the way that fat is distributed, leading to more belly (abdominal) fat."

Fortunately, I knew that was coming, so I was ready. And it's not even a big deal.

I've been walking at least a couple of miles a day for 19 months now, and have recently started breaking that up with doing core training every few days instead. I already see how my knees sometimes feel like they're weaker, so I'm doing lunges to give them more of a challenge. And when I started doing lunges, I realize that since I haven't done them in a long time, my balance was off a bit. So I'm also doing a few balance exercises to try to maintain as much mobility and agility as possible. 

Injuring my back ten years ago showed me what a literal pain in the butt just plain existence can be when you're not at 100%, so I hope to put any falls or breaks off for as long as possible!

Okay, now that you know way too much about me, I'm ready to go to bed.

Have a good rest of your weekend, everybody!

A Surprising Dinner with Mal

Every Friday (mostly), Mal meets some friends at Urban Air for a couple of hours of trampoline jumping and playground fun. 

James and I had planned to meet for dinner afterwards last night, our first family dinner out since before the pandemic. I had told Mal we were going to do this, at a restaurant James and I had selected, and that I knew they probably wouldn't have any food he'd like, but he could just hang out and drink soda.

When I mentioned this to my friend, she offered to take Mal home with her so our kids could play together and James and I could have a date night. I asked Mal, and he preferred to go with us. First surprise.

After he'd played a couple of hours, we went to the restaurant, where James was waiting. Second surprise: Mal ordered food. Chicken tenders and fruit.

The plate came, and a very hungry Mal was extremely happy about the fruit.

He ate some strawberries and grapes, then picked up a little piece of cantaloupe. "What is this?" he asked. I said, "It's a melon, like watermelon, but it's called 'cantaloupe.'" (Yes, we've had it at home before and, no, he's never tried it.)

Mal stuck his tongue out and touched it to the cantaloupe. I guess it passed the tongue test, because Mal popped it into his mouth and rolled his eyes in ecstasy. He then ate more of the cantaloupe. MAJOR third surprise. Major. He actually ADDED a food to his palate instead of removing a food from it. I honestly could have cried (if you have one of these eaters, you get it; I didn't before... it's a lot).

THEN, Mal pulled off the tip of one of the chicken tenders. I said, "That's just coating. You should eat some chicken." But he ate the fried batter, then reacted. "It's hot!" and drank some water.

Normally, that would have been the death sentence for the chicken making further encroachment onto Malcolm's taste buds. But this time, he pulled out his knife, cut off a slice of chicken, and ate it. Water. Again. And again.

Eventually, he'd eaten everything but a few grapes! And he didn't even have ketchup until the last tender.

Sometimes in parenting, we have to really celebrate what might seem like small milestones. This was a HUGE deal to us. I'm proud of Mal for trying new food and for keeping with something that normally would have put him right off! Maybe there's hope for him to expand what he'll eat over time, after all!

If I Could Do It Over Again (Infant Literature Edition)

I'm going to be 50 in a scant few days. Over the past two years, the length of my cycle has increased by several days. While I have yet to experience hot flashes, it seems obvious that I'm in some stage of pre-menopause, and that blessed cessation cannot come too early for this aspirational old lady.

A combination of living in Texas (post-Roe, and under the 6 week "heartbeat" -- narrator: It isn't. -- law), watching Mama Doctor Jones's monthly "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" reactions, and somewhat unpredictable periods got me thinking about the super statistically unrealistic possibility of getting pregnant at my age. 

The good news is that aside from abstinence, vasectomy is the most reliable form of birth control. Only 1 in 1000 partners will become pregnant in the year after a vasectomy is performed, and vasectomies get more effective each year, to the point that reversals after 10 years have only a 30% chance of being successful.

Still, I have quite a dramatic imagination, and was pondering the prospect of having a baby at 50 (famous men seem to have no problem producing offspring at advanced ages; it's a little more daunting for those of us who actually carry babies). 

What is funny to me is that my first thought was this: There are SO many great books now for babies. So how would I start my hypothetical library for this impossible turn of events?

1. Bodies are Cool -- Kids from cisgender, straight, able-bodied white families are often not exposed to people who people who aren't pretty much cookie-cutters of themselves and their parents. I adore this celebration of all sorts of bodies, hair, abilities, and shades. 
2. Antiracist Baby -- Obviously, the stakes are too high just to be passively "not a racist." The younger the better, in terms of helping kids see injustice and instilling the desire to change a culture for the better.
3. All the World -- I found this book by a local author when we were at the Ladybird Wildflower Center one time. By then, Mal was too busy to really enjoy sitting in my lap and hearing a story read aloud (honestly, he was too busy for that pretty much from birth), but it was so soothing and beautiful to me. It presents the world as a nurturing, safe place where you can make mistakes and do better, and encourages that there are so many people around who love you and want to help you. We ended up getting rid of this book (gave it to a friend for their birthday, but it was still hard), so I'd definitely get a board book for the future baby that doesn't exist.
4. The Remarkable Farkle McBride -- This is beyond baby level, but is a clever, fun, sing-song-y (would appeal to baby ears, even if they don't get the story) introduction to orchestra instruments and sections.
5. All 3 of these books by bell hooks, who passed away last winter.
6. We Are Grateful: Otsaliheliga -- James is 1/16th Cherokee, and Mal is 1/32nd. While both are, to all intents and purposes, white, this is still an important part of their ancestry to acknowledge, as it would be with the imaginary child. I don't know how James feels about this, but I'm conflicted about where the line is in connecting with the Cherokee heritage and also acknowledging that our (actual) child's experience will never be remotely close to the experience that someone who is immediately recognizable as Native American will be. I never want to exploit a culture. 
7. And Tango Makes Three -- Our family looks very "traditional," so it's always a good idea to make sure kids know that not all families look the same. Plus, penguins. Yay!
8. Red, A Crayon's Story -- What a great encouragement to be who you are, even in the face of (friendly) opposition.
9. That’s Not My… — These books have been Mal’s favorites. They’re tactile and use descriptive language. For me, they’re super repetitive, but you can’t argue that at least kids love them.

Obviously, we'd have a whole library (again), but those would be a start.

Another short Dallas jaunt

Mal and I came up to Dallas the last week in June because he wanted to visit KidZania. A few weeks ago, he wanted to return to stay at Great Wolf Lodge. I looked online and there were rooms available for SUPER cheap (relatively) this week, so we made reservations for him and James, since I've been to GWL a few times, and James has never been.

However, James ended up driving up to Washington (he made it safely and is on his way home, and I hope he blogs about it because I've heard very little as he's basically driving or sleeping), so I brought Mal. 

First, we drove to Temple Monday to check on my parents and hang out with them for a while. They've been on a long-planned (was supposed to happen summer 2020... remember that??) train trip through the Canadian Rockies.

That was fun, and then Tuesday, we drove up to Dallas.

Our first, uh, festivity was my taking Mal to The Cracker Barrel. He wasn't too thrilled about the prospect of going, then we happened to drive right past a McDonald's on the way. He wanted me to get drive-through to take with us, but I told him we'd definitely get McD's in Dallas. He was extremely unhappy. To help placate him a bit, I let him pick out a couple of bags of candy in the gift shop while we waited for our table. We actually ended up spending more there than for our meal!

Once we were seated, Mal told me he wasn't going to eat. He did play a little with the peg game, but when I tried to take his picture, he posed like this.

He just kept asking why we couldn't get McDonald's, and I explained that 90% of the time, we eat what he wants to eat, so this time I really wanted to get something I'd enjoy. He said nothing looked good, so I ordered what I wanted (chicken and dumplings) with sides he'd like (macaroni and cheese, and steak fries).

At one point, he just got up and walked out. I thought he was going to spend lunch in the gift shop, but apparently he'd gone to the restroom. When he got back, he said, "Mom, I've been thinking about this, and I think you're the one being stubborn." He then told me this about 4 times throughout the meal. Because, you know, of how stubborn I am.

He ended up having an okay time, he ate 5 or 6 of my fries, which he insisted were terrible after each bite, and we got to the hotel around 2:00 PM.

Our room wasn't ready, so we did a bunch of exploring. In fact, by the time we turned in for the evening, we'd walked more than 3 miles... INSIDE the hotel!

Mal had planned to play MagiQuest (which D LOVED), but decided it was too loud for him. He did pick out a souvenir with the money my parents had sent along with him. He has been playing Toca World a lot, and there are a ton of sloths in it, so that's what he latched on to at the shop.

Around 5:30, he was ready to swim, so we went to the waterpark. He wanted to try the outside pool, since this is the first time we've been here that it's been open. He found a friend and they played together for an hour or so.

We ordered a cheese pizza from one of the in-house restaurants and brought it back to the room. We walked around exploring some more before I just crashed out at 9:30.

This morning, we got up and took our time (pizza for breakfast!) before heading out to an indoor playground. Mal had asked to go to the same mall we visited last time, but there's so much else to do and see I talked him into going to a church (bonus that the play area is free!).

We went to Watermark Community Church first. I believe that's where D and I went to see Adventures in Odyssey Live 10-11 years ago. They have a tree fort area that's a bunch of stairs and swinging bridges, and a toddler playground.

After that, we went to ANOTHER church, Prestonwood Baptist in Plano. Their Preston Kidz area has a giant playground.

Mal found a friend here, and they played for about an hour and a half. Then it was on to the promised McDonald's! I had four playgrounds on my list, and Mal was eager to hit them all... but once we got food, he was ready to come back to the hotel. We ate lunch, and then went to the lobby to explore some more. He found some friends there and played tag. Then we came back to the room to chill for a while.

Just now, Mal went out into the hotel on his own. At just a bit older than Mal, D and a friend played MagiQuest for 6-8 hours, totally unsupervised. Back then, we talked to a kid who was playing who said his mom dropped him off here before she went to work in the morning, because they didn't have childcare and she didn't want to leave him home alone. It's a pretty safe place for kids to mill around.

I'm proud to say that Mal found his way back to the room, but he wants me to go inspect a "new virus" he found.

Tomorrow morning, we're going to the Dallas World Aquarium before heading back home.

Wish me luck with the virus!

The last year, and the new normal

I realized, looking through posts the other day, that I've basically been depressed for a long time. My posts about ennui and whether or not I should have had kids... all of it has been pretty maudlin and hopeless, because that's how I felt.

There is a long story here that I'm going to skip over, but after a year of having near-breakdowns every month from a very sweet puppy who just did not fit in with our household (cats, kids, sensory stuff, love of quiet and peace, etc.), having people I interact with in public remark, "That's too much dog for me!" and "The only people I know who are as dedicated to their dogs as you are don't have human children," etc. I snapped when the dog tried to catch one of our cats outside (inside they're different; outside is a wild card). After seeing how devastated James was, I agreed to keep trying... but then after D returned from a couple of weeks away, the dog decided he needed to be awake all night to keep D company, and I had a stressful night after a stressful day, and the only way I could keep from going crazy was the idea that the dog had an awesome household that wanted him.

The ferocity with which my husband and his family rallied... around the dog has stunned me. I feel like I'm living on a different planet. I feel like I've been talked about behind my back, and that they had this plan for when I failed, which they knew I would, but that no one ever talked seriously to ME about it, so I did what I needed to do to stay out of a mental hospital and continue to take care of all of the domestic duties around our home. 

James is driving to his brother's house with the dog, where the dog will stay indefinitely. James feels good enough about this. I am skeptical, but James was literally ready to file for divorce. We hurt a very kind, loving family, who got caught up in the blast zone and that's almost as hard for me to stomach as the idea that somehow, my husband values a pet more than he values me and the wholistic health of our family. Of course, this is my take on it and I know that he has a different one.

We are committed to staying married because we love each other and want to keep our family intact. But internally, I feel as rocked as I did when my ex-husband texted a lady he didn't know, who was dating a friend of mine, and told her (while she was on a cruise vacation with her family) that I was having an affair with her boyfriend (which I was not). The fallout on that was terrible, but I was already half way out the door because of other problems we had. James and I are starting out on much stronger footing. But I'm still just not sure what the heck is going on, and why it was taken for granted that I shoulder so much constant stress but when I moved to right it, suddenly it's like I'm mentally frail or evil and deceptive or something.

Sometimes I wonder how people maneuver in the world, knowing the wake of destruction they leave behind them. Maybe other people don't do that, but I know so many people who have and who do. I guess we can only move forward and try not to mess up and hurt people in the future.

This morning, I was wishing that James and I could have "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind"ed Luke, so he'd be happy where he was, and we'd never be the wiser. But, no. We remember, and somehow we still have to try to live "normal" lives. It feels impossible.

Get Out

Although I have screwed up on the job plenty, I have never been fired.

Even when I was going through a very messy breakdown of my marriage, divorce, and the aftermath of that, the community theater let me do all 4 of the shows I auditioned for and got parts in.

Over the years, I have acted harmfully in many ways, but my family of origin never once said, "We are done with you. You need to move on."

I was young and stupid during the years I volunteered for Greyhound Pets of America, but they appreciated me and let me do whatever I was willing and able to do.

My best Vegas friend, Adrienne, and my sister, Sarah, have both walked with me through a bunch of hot mess express action, lending nothing but support in the moment, even if they admitted later, "I could not believe you were doing that."

But you know what? I've been "invited" to leave two Christian churches.

The first, when I was going through my divorce. The invitation to leave was framed as the fact that coming to church seemed to be traumatic for me. It was true that I broke down most church services; music has the ability to open up places in your heart that you've tried to lock shut. I was going through a lot. It was presented to me as a mercy, but I know why they wanted me gone because they'd told me as much: They saw my struggle with the church leaders through my divorce as "divisive." They monitored my social media and blog to make sure I wasn't making them look bad. They had people express concern that I was being used as an example, since I was so visible in the congregation. They were worried that, in trying to show that the church really supported marriage, they were scapegoating me and hurting me as an individual. 

Several years after I left, most of the people I was close to there left and started their own church, a kind of reboot of the church we'd attended together. I hope it works for them.

The second time I was told, "If you won't submit to our shepherding in this, I'm not sure what we have for you here." It was because I was marrying James, who isn't a Christian. Unequally yoked and all of that. I stayed at that church for another 3 good years. I wonder now why.

This week, I got kicked out of my third organization, this time before I ever even showed up.

There is a homeschool group that has been meeting weekly in Lago Vista. It's been on Wednesday, when we already have a weekly event, but they recently changed it to Monday, so I was excited to take Mal. They have free play for one hour (outdoors usually, but not now during the five months of climate change hell that is Austin in the spring and summer), and then an organized activity like art or a science project. And someone usually reads aloud. It sounded really cool.

Last week, someone had asked a question and I mentioned something about being "an LGBT family" and how sometimes that means we're not welcome in some homeschooling spaces (which I can usually sniff out and avoid). No one responded in any way to my particular comment, so no biggie. But yesterday, I received a notice that said, "Since the group is growing so quickly recently" -- I'd been a part of it for probably 6 months -- "I just wanted to remind you that we are a Christian group. We are so fortunate to meet at *XYZ church* and we have agreed to them not to say or do anything in the building or on this page that is contrary to the gospel of Jesus Christ." Um, okay? So what exactly IS contrary to the gospel of Christ? Like what are the rules? I mean, I 100% know how my son will respond if he's asked if he has any brothers or sisters. And it's simple. He'll say, "I have a sibling." Does this make the baby Jesus cry?

So, anyway, short story is we are out of the group.

I have concerns about this "keeping the group pure from messiness" and avoiding addressing the realities of the world in which we live. When the ancient Israelites were in captivity, God told them to live their full lives and work for the flourishing of the country around them. I feel like Christianity has more of a "circle the wagons" mentality than a "throw the doors open, you'll be at home here" ethos. It is not difficult for me to understand why church attendance has declined precipitously over the years. There's no place for people who are perceived as "dangerous" because their lives don't align to a pretty Puritanical lived experience that many families and communities want to cultivate. "Protect the children" only applies to THEIR children. If the heathens' children have to suffer, well, I guess the Holy Spirit will take care of it? 

I think that a lot of church-going folk interpret "They will know we are Christians by our love" as love for each other, for the ones who look and think like they do. For the people who don't challenge what they think they know about what the Bible says or means. For people who are easy, who don't have messes out in the open, and for the ones who don't drink, smoke, or cuss. I'm pretty sure Jesus loved everyone. He surely hung out with everyone. 

And, honestly, I don't care at this point. I don't care what those "Christians" think about anything or whether they're right or wrong. I had a very comfortable home in the christian culture when I was naturally just doing stuff that the church liked (like not having sex when I was in high school... which was 100% about self-preservation on my side, but it looked "pure" or "holy" or whatever). When that's not how you live, christianity is quite ostracizing, othering, and unwelcoming. So I'm not wasting my time worrying about it anymore.