After I'd excerpted from "Hairspray!" a bit ago, James suggested we watch it again. I love that movie. It's been at least five and probably closer to seven years since I've watched it in full.
If you've been following along, you know that my entire worldview has changed massively in the past few years, and so, while I enjoyed the movie a great deal, as usual, this time a few things popped out at me that hadn't before. I'll list them, then explain why they're problematic.
1) Although there was structural racism in the film (i.e. white kids were the norm for the music show, with black kids getting only one day every month), it was embodied in a single, nasty white woman, Velma Von Tussle.
2) When "Negro Day" (as the once-a-month black episode is called) is cancelled, it is Tracy Turnblad (white protagonist) who has the idea to march on the television station.
3) After many black folk and Edna Turnblad (Tracy's mom, also white) are arrested at the march, Wilbur Turnblad, husband/dad, bails EVERYONE out. He says it's about 20 people.
4) Little Inez Stubbs (the daughter of the host of "Negro Day," "Motormouth" Maybelle) dances on the show when Link Larkin, a white guy, brings her out onstage.
First, I want to say that when I literally googled "Is Hairspray a white savior movie" yesterday, I learned something interesting about this film. John Waters wrote it as an alternate/happy ending to a real event in Baltimore history. The Buddy Deane Show ran on local TV from 1957 until 1964. It, too, had a white cast and audience, saving once per month. A civil rights group staged a "dance in" where the show was integrated for the episode. Apparently, the producers of the show supported integration, but rather than deal with the blowback from area segregationists, canceled the show altogether. This was Waters' way of literally rewriting history.
So I know that this was written with no ill intent. The music is superb, and the tone is so hopeful; I think that is one of the things that appeals to me most. When I listened to "You Can't Stop the Beat" the other day, I was a little saddened by the line "Tomorrow is a brand new day and it don't know white from black." It's so aspirational. And we have so far to go.
Now, here is why the things I didn't even notice before are problematic:
1) Hateful racist lady: This is a character that allows us to say, "Yeah, she's awful. Good thing I'm not like that!" and basically not have to examine our own complicity in any systems that exist today that uphold racial inequality. It allows us to say, "If that's what racism looks like, I'm definitely not racist!" In that way, it absolves us as the "good white guy." We're part of the "Not all white people" crowd. In our minds. And we're not moved to challenge that thinking.
2) What are the odds, in 1963, that a 17-year-old white girl would have the idea to march as a protest before any black kids and even an adult black woman? It sort of takes away some agency and although the whole group (all black folks except for Tracy) ends up marching, it makes them seem almost passive and ignorant in asserting their own rights.
3) I can understand why Maybelle and Seaweed would need to be bailed out, but if a white dad had to bail everyone else's kids out, this says something about their parents' presence and/or ability to post bail themselves. We already know that Wilbur is a VERY good guy; this points to his better impulses, I understand. But it makes him literally their savior.
4) This is another instance where, instead of a black person being shown taking what is rightfully theirs, this gain is facilitated by a white person's invitation. Whereas that can be problematic as it's repeated in this fictionalized narrative, it also points to an important reality: White people have to be willing to risk their own privilege if things are ever actually going to change.
See, one of the things this hopeful but overly-simplified story does is pretend that once an instance of racism is toppled, everything shores up and we're all even. One of the things I found when I was googling yesterday was someone talking about how, in the movie, when the news anchor reports that "interracial dancing has broken out in the studios" all of the white people waiting outside go crazy in support of the desegregation. She pointed out that many white people would have (and did) lose their minds over this type of thing.
It's tempting to think that if we can just get people to stop having racial prejudices, that racism won't be a thing anymore. Which is one reason we want to say, "Well, I'm not racist. I treat everyone the same" and not have to work alongside our brothers and sister of color to assure that they have, in practice as well as theoretically, the same rights as we do. I keep seeing this quote repeated, and it's true: "It's not enough not to be racist. You have to be anti-racism."
I wish John Waters' vision of what could be had come to fruition. But we have not even started the work in earnest. I hear people say "Slavery happened 200 years ago, and I didn't have slaves, so why should I have to be responsible for any of this?" Thing is, slavery was just officially abolished (with the notable exception of incarcerated people, and we know that there is a disproportionate jailing of people of color) 150 years ago, and that there were laws both on the books and unofficially but enforced as recently as a few decades ago.
I think all white people should listen to the entire 14-part Scene On Radio series "Seeing White," but to clarify what I'm about to say, the episode on "White Affirmative Action" is truly an eye-opener.
What we are left with is like a Monopoly game where there are teams that switch players every 15 minutes. We've been playing for nearly an hour. Fifteen minutes ago, one member of one team admitted that the three people who'd played before him had cheated, and he was not going to cheat. That team is way ahead, though, as cheating was a successful strategy. Now a new member of the team comes in to play, and his opponent remarks that the opposing team isn't able to catch up given the unfair advantage the first team has. "What do you mean?!" the player says. "I just got here. I didn't cheat. We're on even ground now!"
But we can see, in this example, that they aren't. Why do we choose not to see this in real life? While people of color in our nation do not need (or want) a white savior, what we are required by our humanity to do is to listen, believe, and then partner with black folks to figure out how to fix the mess we made. We need to let them talk, and we need to be willing to give up things we think we earned solely on our own... which I don't think is as difficult to do when you realize that you DID have a leg up just by virtue of the color of your skin.
I know it won't be easy. Another quote I keep running up against is: When you've been in power a long time, equality can feel like oppression. I feel this deeply when we say, "There's racism against whites, too" or sigh over the fact that straight white cis-males can't get scholarships or jobs because companies have diversity mandates. We need to stop it. As long as we are defensive and refuse to acknowledge how lopsidedly our country as been constructed, meaningful change will not come.
Wednesday, October 30, 2019
Tuesday, October 29, 2019
The Way We Were
"Mem'ries light the corner of my mind... misty, water-color memories of the way we were."
James and I had a series of discussions once about whether having access to a smartphone makes our memories worse, in terms of just knowing that you can look up anything you might need to know, so why bother trying to remember it? One article I read said that, as a species, we've operated in outsourced memories forever. They gave the example of having shared experiences, like when within your family you can say, "Remember that movie with that guy who was in that musical?" and someone responds with, "Yeah! He did that pickle commercial, too..." and then eventually someone comes up with the name that everyone immediately recognizes (or says, "Huh, I wouldn't have ever landed on that.")
What I've found interesting about my life and the way I've lived it is that I simply do not remember much about my young adult life. I know I went to college(s), but beyond a dozen or so highlights, I have very few recollection of those years.
I can't recall what I ate when I lived by myself in that apartment right off campus. I do remember working for an incompetent lady who shouldn't have owned a boutique kids' clothes shop... but how did I get that job there? Why did I? Did I have any real friends in the theater department? I remember not being lonely (as I'd been at the first college I attended), but... what was I doing?
I know I lived in Eureka Springs for a year or so, but cannot remember what I did with my time except for that once I gave blood at a college campus a mile away, walking both ways, and then passed out when I got home; or the time I put all of my ponytail-holders in my hair and ended up with a single horn on top of my head. I guess I also remember helping with VBS at a church, and working out with some friends' kids. But that's almost all I have for an entire year.
Then in Las Vegas, I had a job at Sam's Club, and I volunteered for Greyhound Pets of America... but I don't know how I found GPA. Except for two notable examples, I don't remember where I went out to eat. I don't remember what the library looked like. I couldn't navigate The Lakes without GPS, though I used to walk the area almost every day. What did I do at Sam's Club before I fell in with a guy there? Who were my work buddies?
Once I had kids, the memories stay in place more securely. I think a good part of that is that I have digital pictures starting in 2001, so I come across things that jog my memory and act as an electronic life partner. But it's weird having vague recollections like that someone gave me a box of Forrest Gump chocolates once, and I remember the candy and the living room I was sitting in but do not know at all what the context was or who the people were. (Although my parents might be able to come up with that one, since I think they were there, too.)
Sometimes I'm tempted to wish that James and I had gotten together in high school, but he insists we probably wouldn't be together anymore because of how much he's changed since then... obviously, I have, too. And in the few years we have been together, I know that he jogs my memory or even challenges it quite often. He also takes copious notes about things that happened, so if I wonder, "When did Mal stop needing diapers?" it's just a matter of his looking up a key word and he can come up with it in a few minutes.
Now, thanks to Google Photos, here are some memories from this day, October 29, in history... the past 18 years, anyway.
James and I had a series of discussions once about whether having access to a smartphone makes our memories worse, in terms of just knowing that you can look up anything you might need to know, so why bother trying to remember it? One article I read said that, as a species, we've operated in outsourced memories forever. They gave the example of having shared experiences, like when within your family you can say, "Remember that movie with that guy who was in that musical?" and someone responds with, "Yeah! He did that pickle commercial, too..." and then eventually someone comes up with the name that everyone immediately recognizes (or says, "Huh, I wouldn't have ever landed on that.")
What I've found interesting about my life and the way I've lived it is that I simply do not remember much about my young adult life. I know I went to college(s), but beyond a dozen or so highlights, I have very few recollection of those years.
I can't recall what I ate when I lived by myself in that apartment right off campus. I do remember working for an incompetent lady who shouldn't have owned a boutique kids' clothes shop... but how did I get that job there? Why did I? Did I have any real friends in the theater department? I remember not being lonely (as I'd been at the first college I attended), but... what was I doing?
I know I lived in Eureka Springs for a year or so, but cannot remember what I did with my time except for that once I gave blood at a college campus a mile away, walking both ways, and then passed out when I got home; or the time I put all of my ponytail-holders in my hair and ended up with a single horn on top of my head. I guess I also remember helping with VBS at a church, and working out with some friends' kids. But that's almost all I have for an entire year.
Then in Las Vegas, I had a job at Sam's Club, and I volunteered for Greyhound Pets of America... but I don't know how I found GPA. Except for two notable examples, I don't remember where I went out to eat. I don't remember what the library looked like. I couldn't navigate The Lakes without GPS, though I used to walk the area almost every day. What did I do at Sam's Club before I fell in with a guy there? Who were my work buddies?
Once I had kids, the memories stay in place more securely. I think a good part of that is that I have digital pictures starting in 2001, so I come across things that jog my memory and act as an electronic life partner. But it's weird having vague recollections like that someone gave me a box of Forrest Gump chocolates once, and I remember the candy and the living room I was sitting in but do not know at all what the context was or who the people were. (Although my parents might be able to come up with that one, since I think they were there, too.)
Sometimes I'm tempted to wish that James and I had gotten together in high school, but he insists we probably wouldn't be together anymore because of how much he's changed since then... obviously, I have, too. And in the few years we have been together, I know that he jogs my memory or even challenges it quite often. He also takes copious notes about things that happened, so if I wonder, "When did Mal stop needing diapers?" it's just a matter of his looking up a key word and he can come up with it in a few minutes.
Now, thanks to Google Photos, here are some memories from this day, October 29, in history... the past 18 years, anyway.
Wednesday, October 23, 2019
Wherein I Am Not a Farmer
Something startling and rather amazing happened this weekend: When Mal and I were in the back yard enjoying the cool fall day, a hawk swooped down and tried to grab one of our chickens. I don't know which one, because they scattered. The hawk almost ran into the corner of the back fence, made a swoop, and took a half-hearted second attempt as it flew into the trees behind our yard. It had basically managed to separate AW from the others, but couldn't actually connect.
D gets really nervous when we have near-misses and scares like this, and wants to build a run, for which we have neither the money nor the expertise to do without much cash. Also, as I might have mentioned, they've been just wandering everywhere.
Now that there are construction crews around, the chickens hear talking and are like, "Hey, what's up? You got snacks?" so they have ended up helping one of our neighbors eliminate an over-abundance of crickets. But there are two new houses being built across the streets where we are on a corner, and I know the new neighbors will not want fowl pulling leaves and tiny flowers off of their as-yet-hypothetical new landscaping.
I was pretty stressed about it last week, but we'd kind of settled in to getting the chickens back behind the house when they venture forth. And then this morning, James heard a guy yelling at his dog, and saw our chickens run through the back yard and into the front side yard. James is on crutches and in a boot because a foot issue he has is acting up, so I went outside to get the birds back in the yard. There were only four. Greybeard was not among them.
I went around "back" back and didn't see hide nor feather of her. I checked a few times, and she hadn't joined the others. So, as much as I HATE confrontation (preferring to vent here about stuff), I went over to the house across our side street and asked the guy working on the foundation, "Hey, you've been here all morning. Did you see a dog get one of our chickens? It's missing." The guy looked like I'd just punched him in the gut. He felt SO bad. He said that his dog had gotten back into our forest and that he didn't think the dog could have gotten the chicken because it's just a pup, but he promised to replace it (since they're pets and not livestock for us, that doesn't really work) and to look for the bird before he left for the day. I don't know whether he did or not, because we got out for a while and he was gone by the time we returned.
 |
| Because I'm bad, I'm bad. You know it. |
Now that there are construction crews around, the chickens hear talking and are like, "Hey, what's up? You got snacks?" so they have ended up helping one of our neighbors eliminate an over-abundance of crickets. But there are two new houses being built across the streets where we are on a corner, and I know the new neighbors will not want fowl pulling leaves and tiny flowers off of their as-yet-hypothetical new landscaping.
I was pretty stressed about it last week, but we'd kind of settled in to getting the chickens back behind the house when they venture forth. And then this morning, James heard a guy yelling at his dog, and saw our chickens run through the back yard and into the front side yard. James is on crutches and in a boot because a foot issue he has is acting up, so I went outside to get the birds back in the yard. There were only four. Greybeard was not among them.
 |
| This is a very derpy picture of an extremely regal bird. |
In the meantime, I contacted the lady from whom we'd gotten the chickens when they were babes and asked if she ever took birds back. She was lovely, and agreed to find a VERY safe place to put them. She has a hoop run with 8 pullets and 4 silkies. So we're going to take the chickens back to her so we know they'll live long and prosperous lives. It's been fun having them, and we'll be sad to see them go. But we agree that their living is the priority.
AND for a happy update to this story: this evening, I went out back to call for Greybeard again, just in case she was hiding and wanted to come home to roost. I kept hearing something crashing far in the back of the property, but I kind of had the same experience when we lost Halfy. I kept calling, though, and when the crashing would stop, I'd walk closer to the fence and call again. I kept hearing it. Finally, I saw that sweet hippogriff-looking head in the foliage on the opposite side of the grotto. I opened the gate so the other birds would walk through and be visible, and as Greybeard came up out of the dense tree cover, I could see that she's none the worse for wear. SUCH a relief.
 |
| Greybeard returns! |
So. We never got eggs. We lost one chicken. And we had some scares along the way. But we've laughed so much and had such a great time with these babies. I'm glad to know that they'll be able to live long and prosper on the opposite end of 1431.
Tuesday, October 22, 2019
The Perfect Guy
Literally every day of my life, something happens that makes me think, "Thank God I married James." James has said to me enough times that I remember it a lot: "I know you're not perfect, but you're perfect for me." And that's exactly how I feel about him. He is *the* partner for me. I tell him this, but probably not enough. It's really quite spectacular.
So to the men (yep, multiple) who tried to change me, and to the church people who tried to steer me straight on more than one occasion... I'm really sorry you wasted your time and energy. Turns out I didn't need you or your "helpful" advice. I am actually fine, and all of the decisions that I needed to make to end up where I am now were fine. I just needed a few years to be truly myself, accepted for what I am, in order to realize who I was, absent other people's approval-based persuasion.
Not a day goes by that I do not marvel at the match James and I make. There have been so many changes to my life and my worldview that would have made me completely unfit for anyone else I might have ended up with. There's a whole laundry list in my head that I can't detail here without insulting people or telling others' stories, but... I heard this on Saturday Night Live a couple of weeks ago, and it will always make me think of my amazing husband. He's pretty easy to love, too.
So to the men (yep, multiple) who tried to change me, and to the church people who tried to steer me straight on more than one occasion... I'm really sorry you wasted your time and energy. Turns out I didn't need you or your "helpful" advice. I am actually fine, and all of the decisions that I needed to make to end up where I am now were fine. I just needed a few years to be truly myself, accepted for what I am, in order to realize who I was, absent other people's approval-based persuasion.
Not a day goes by that I do not marvel at the match James and I make. There have been so many changes to my life and my worldview that would have made me completely unfit for anyone else I might have ended up with. There's a whole laundry list in my head that I can't detail here without insulting people or telling others' stories, but... I heard this on Saturday Night Live a couple of weeks ago, and it will always make me think of my amazing husband. He's pretty easy to love, too.
Thursday, October 10, 2019
A Couple of Things I Forgot Yesterday (and I'll probably forget more today)
First of all, the initial estimate we got for replacing 20 windows (with 16 windows, 'cause... reasons) was: $38,999!!! And that's WITH a discount! It was more than $54,000 without any promotions. So. No.
Anyhoo, what I neglected to mention in the whole "we're gonna save the earth!" stuff from yestiddy is that I made a 5-gallon batch of homemade laundry detergent a few weeks ago. The recipes I'd seen before always seemed too involved, but this one was easy (except that I accidentally brought in a 5-gallon bucket that had holes drilled in it, so as soon as we'd poured the boiling hot liquid into it and realized we were losing detergent, I had to plug the openings with my index fingers while James went out and found a suitable replacement in our storage shed, and then washed the dried potting soil from inside and out of it... adventure!). It looks like egg-drop soup, and it smells like nothing. I might put essential oil in it at some point, but my kiddos both have super-sensitive sniffers, so this might be the best way to do it. It's cleaned every bit as well as store-bought, and in addition to being cheaper (maybe $2 for the whole bucketful -- we already had the bucket), there's less waste. I have to throw away the paper box from the laundry bar each time I make it, but will get a dozen or so batches from the Borax and laundry soda before I have to throw out THOSE paper boxes. Cool!
I also read that a dishwashing hack is to put this into the detergent hole: 3 drops dish soap, 2/3 of the rest of the space with baking soda, and top it off with salt. We've used it several times, and it's worked great! Again, no smell. And maybe a couple of cents per use instead of $.15-.50, depending on whether we'd used powder or pods, etc.
Pretty stoked about all of that.
Also, I'm saving my onion and carrot ends and any other tough veggies I might cut up in the freezer until I have a few cups full. Then I'm going to make my own vegetable broth. Store-bought isn't super expensive, but this is basically free. I mean, we have to pay a bit for the water, but that's negligible. And I'd just throw the veggie ends away, anyway.
I'm not normally a DIY person. I'm fully willing to pay for someone else to do things I either cannot or do not have the patience to try. For instance, I just had an Instacart delivery today. I'm perfectly capable of buying groceries, but for the effort it takes (ya know, I have a kid who thinks HEB is a toy store), I'm cool with helping another person make a living. But I'm working on being a little more thoughtful about the products we use and the things we do out of habit.
Now I have to go outside and take down our wind chime. It's noisy as heck and has been for over an hour, then tomorrow morning, the temperature is going to drop 20 degrees in 5 hours, so it's bound to get worse. Payce!
Anyhoo, what I neglected to mention in the whole "we're gonna save the earth!" stuff from yestiddy is that I made a 5-gallon batch of homemade laundry detergent a few weeks ago. The recipes I'd seen before always seemed too involved, but this one was easy (except that I accidentally brought in a 5-gallon bucket that had holes drilled in it, so as soon as we'd poured the boiling hot liquid into it and realized we were losing detergent, I had to plug the openings with my index fingers while James went out and found a suitable replacement in our storage shed, and then washed the dried potting soil from inside and out of it... adventure!). It looks like egg-drop soup, and it smells like nothing. I might put essential oil in it at some point, but my kiddos both have super-sensitive sniffers, so this might be the best way to do it. It's cleaned every bit as well as store-bought, and in addition to being cheaper (maybe $2 for the whole bucketful -- we already had the bucket), there's less waste. I have to throw away the paper box from the laundry bar each time I make it, but will get a dozen or so batches from the Borax and laundry soda before I have to throw out THOSE paper boxes. Cool!
I also read that a dishwashing hack is to put this into the detergent hole: 3 drops dish soap, 2/3 of the rest of the space with baking soda, and top it off with salt. We've used it several times, and it's worked great! Again, no smell. And maybe a couple of cents per use instead of $.15-.50, depending on whether we'd used powder or pods, etc.
Pretty stoked about all of that.
Also, I'm saving my onion and carrot ends and any other tough veggies I might cut up in the freezer until I have a few cups full. Then I'm going to make my own vegetable broth. Store-bought isn't super expensive, but this is basically free. I mean, we have to pay a bit for the water, but that's negligible. And I'd just throw the veggie ends away, anyway.
I'm not normally a DIY person. I'm fully willing to pay for someone else to do things I either cannot or do not have the patience to try. For instance, I just had an Instacart delivery today. I'm perfectly capable of buying groceries, but for the effort it takes (ya know, I have a kid who thinks HEB is a toy store), I'm cool with helping another person make a living. But I'm working on being a little more thoughtful about the products we use and the things we do out of habit.
Now I have to go outside and take down our wind chime. It's noisy as heck and has been for over an hour, then tomorrow morning, the temperature is going to drop 20 degrees in 5 hours, so it's bound to get worse. Payce!
Wednesday, October 9, 2019
Mal is Obviously An Adult
He informed me about this the other day.
He can get to the sugar all by himself. (It took a couple of days between the time he told me about this and my chance to see how he manages...his approach is pretty top-notch, except that it leaves "extra" sugar scattered everywhere...he still doesn't get how you clean up spills. His version involves pushing a towel around in the general vicinity. He gets the basic idea is that something needs to be done. He just isn't sure what).
When he wants snacks, he's perfectly capable of
I haven't had a chance to observe that directly. Laura said it's probably more due to D slicing and dicing art projects, which is perfectly fine also.
As long as thumbs aren't getting sliced off, it's all good. Right?
But I've gotten distracted.
My main point is that since Mal's birthday party, he's switched gears. He hasn't actually gotten all that much more self-sufficient than he was 2 weeks ago. But he's decided that he should be.
(Within reasonable limits: he's bound and determined that he'll never brush his own teeth).
He can get to the sugar all by himself. (It took a couple of days between the time he told me about this and my chance to see how he manages...his approach is pretty top-notch, except that it leaves "extra" sugar scattered everywhere...he still doesn't get how you clean up spills. His version involves pushing a towel around in the general vicinity. He gets the basic idea is that something needs to be done. He just isn't sure what).
When he wants snacks, he's perfectly capable of
- fetching the packages himself
- finding the scissors
- cutting the packages open
I haven't had a chance to observe that directly. Laura said it's probably more due to D slicing and dicing art projects, which is perfectly fine also.
As long as thumbs aren't getting sliced off, it's all good. Right?
But I've gotten distracted.
My main point is that since Mal's birthday party, he's switched gears. He hasn't actually gotten all that much more self-sufficient than he was 2 weeks ago. But he's decided that he should be.
(Within reasonable limits: he's bound and determined that he'll never brush his own teeth).
Some More Changes (We're Trying!), and Spring Cleaning?
This morning, I was trying to find the Ball jar seal toppers that I knew we had in our kitchen. This resulted in not only eventually finding the lids, but also in cleaning out one drawer and two cabinets, doing a load of laundry, and doing a load of dishes. I'm a little post-workout-sore from the bending and reaching and moving and whatnot.
I think I'm in... fall cleaning mode? Is that a thing? During the past week or so, I've cleaned out my side of the closet, donating 6 bags of clothes that I didn't ABSOLUTELY love (and, yeah, I know I don't need that many clothes, let alone that many excess clothes); moved a bunch of stuff from James's office under the house and straightened and cleaned in there (it's pretty tidy for what it is, but you're not allowed to judge my house-keeping by it please); I want to get to the storage shed (again); and then today, I got a lot of stuff done!
It seems like it's finally "cooled down" (highs in the 80s instead of 90s or low 100s) enough that I have energy to do more than the normal "sweep, wipe, wash" routine that I can't avoid regardless of temperature.
So... this morning I was looking for the jar lids because it occurred to me the other day that I could make split pea soup, which is one of D's staples, for significantly cheaper than the Progresso I've been buying. Those cans are typically between $1.80 and $3.00, depending on the store. Meanwhile, a bag of dried split peas is $.80 at the most expensive local store; I used 2 onions that probably cost around $3, and then I already had spices, salt, and a bit of oil. In the end, I only had 4 servings, so it was only about 1/3 the cost of buying from the store. But I'll be able to make 6 servings, probably, when we have an immersion blender. I lost a bit from transferring the mixture to a blender, then to a bowl, then back to the pot... and then when I realized it was a little "crunchy," I moved it to the Instant Pot. But it was after I'd added milk, so some solidified at the bottom of the pot, and I didn't try to mix it into the soup in case it tasted burnt. Lesson learned: Get an immersion blender, do the whole thing in the Instant Pot, and... that'll make it a lot cheaper.
Also, it's vegetarian, which the Progresso soup is not. I like the ham flavor, and I think D does, but this stuff is good, too. We're taking further steps to move our diet more toward plant-based. James and I both like vegetarian food and often eat vegetarian or vegan dishes when we eat out. D has been more resistant to this in the past, but with our having birds has stopped eating fowl (which is in SO MUCH STUFF... like even pepperoni Bagel Bites and Pizza Rolls!!). And I think I mentioned trying to eat less beef just because of how environmentally exhausting it is to raise cattle for meat. We'd been getting most of our meat from pigs, and even then, I was only cooking meat about 3 times a week. We've been having fish about once every couple of weeks. I know that needs to come up. And D mentioned that pork isn't a favorite, so...
We switched our eMeals from diabetic back to vegetarian. We tried it and 2/3 of us loved it a year or two ago. I've since honed in to the fact that D doesn't like peppers of any kind (like me! though I'm able to eat small bits of bell pepper cooked into dishes), tomatoes, or cucumber. Actually, D doesn't like lettuce, either. Basically salad stuff. Spinach cooked into dishes seems to be okay. I'll try to choose our meals wisely to avoid these things and cook dishes we'll all enjoy.
Meanwhile, Mal has narrowed down the pool of foods he will eat to: chicken nuggets, corn dogs, French fries, apples, ice cream, candy, mashed potatoes, watermelon, cheese pizza, cupcakes, ham and cheese sandwiches, boxed macaroni and cheese, butter noodles, and the white part of a boiled egg. How is he still alive? I don't know. He used to eat a wider variety of foods, though still not a whole lot. And he's committed to only eating foods he's eaten before, so dropping things like broccoli and grapes and scrambled eggs makes it very difficult to make sure he's getting the proper nutrition. We're back on vitamins after having stopped at some point in the past when I felt he was probably getting 'most everything he needed. Sigh.
On the upside with Mal, he has started letting us use toothpaste with fluoride! Given his sensitivities (which are FAR more extreme at his age than D's were at this age), that was a hard sell! But a couple of months ago, I noticed a grey spot on one of his non-capped molars. Double sigh. However, we've kept at it and after a while, it went back to white. Fingers crossed!
Tomorrow we have someone coming out to give me an estimate on replacing our windows. We do not have the money to do this, but we're also losing a lot of climate controlled air from our craptastic windows. Just to satisfy our curiosity and perhaps develop a savings strategy, we're going to see what we might be looking at. Man, trying to be energy-wise is super expensive!
Okay, idiots. That's it for today. Thanks for reading! And drop me an email if you'd like, since as far as I can tell, the comments still aren't working. My email address is firstname.lastname@hotmail.com, except, you know, with my name. Au revoir!
I think I'm in... fall cleaning mode? Is that a thing? During the past week or so, I've cleaned out my side of the closet, donating 6 bags of clothes that I didn't ABSOLUTELY love (and, yeah, I know I don't need that many clothes, let alone that many excess clothes); moved a bunch of stuff from James's office under the house and straightened and cleaned in there (it's pretty tidy for what it is, but you're not allowed to judge my house-keeping by it please); I want to get to the storage shed (again); and then today, I got a lot of stuff done!
It seems like it's finally "cooled down" (highs in the 80s instead of 90s or low 100s) enough that I have energy to do more than the normal "sweep, wipe, wash" routine that I can't avoid regardless of temperature.
So... this morning I was looking for the jar lids because it occurred to me the other day that I could make split pea soup, which is one of D's staples, for significantly cheaper than the Progresso I've been buying. Those cans are typically between $1.80 and $3.00, depending on the store. Meanwhile, a bag of dried split peas is $.80 at the most expensive local store; I used 2 onions that probably cost around $3, and then I already had spices, salt, and a bit of oil. In the end, I only had 4 servings, so it was only about 1/3 the cost of buying from the store. But I'll be able to make 6 servings, probably, when we have an immersion blender. I lost a bit from transferring the mixture to a blender, then to a bowl, then back to the pot... and then when I realized it was a little "crunchy," I moved it to the Instant Pot. But it was after I'd added milk, so some solidified at the bottom of the pot, and I didn't try to mix it into the soup in case it tasted burnt. Lesson learned: Get an immersion blender, do the whole thing in the Instant Pot, and... that'll make it a lot cheaper.
Also, it's vegetarian, which the Progresso soup is not. I like the ham flavor, and I think D does, but this stuff is good, too. We're taking further steps to move our diet more toward plant-based. James and I both like vegetarian food and often eat vegetarian or vegan dishes when we eat out. D has been more resistant to this in the past, but with our having birds has stopped eating fowl (which is in SO MUCH STUFF... like even pepperoni Bagel Bites and Pizza Rolls!!). And I think I mentioned trying to eat less beef just because of how environmentally exhausting it is to raise cattle for meat. We'd been getting most of our meat from pigs, and even then, I was only cooking meat about 3 times a week. We've been having fish about once every couple of weeks. I know that needs to come up. And D mentioned that pork isn't a favorite, so...
We switched our eMeals from diabetic back to vegetarian. We tried it and 2/3 of us loved it a year or two ago. I've since honed in to the fact that D doesn't like peppers of any kind (like me! though I'm able to eat small bits of bell pepper cooked into dishes), tomatoes, or cucumber. Actually, D doesn't like lettuce, either. Basically salad stuff. Spinach cooked into dishes seems to be okay. I'll try to choose our meals wisely to avoid these things and cook dishes we'll all enjoy.
Meanwhile, Mal has narrowed down the pool of foods he will eat to: chicken nuggets, corn dogs, French fries, apples, ice cream, candy, mashed potatoes, watermelon, cheese pizza, cupcakes, ham and cheese sandwiches, boxed macaroni and cheese, butter noodles, and the white part of a boiled egg. How is he still alive? I don't know. He used to eat a wider variety of foods, though still not a whole lot. And he's committed to only eating foods he's eaten before, so dropping things like broccoli and grapes and scrambled eggs makes it very difficult to make sure he's getting the proper nutrition. We're back on vitamins after having stopped at some point in the past when I felt he was probably getting 'most everything he needed. Sigh.
On the upside with Mal, he has started letting us use toothpaste with fluoride! Given his sensitivities (which are FAR more extreme at his age than D's were at this age), that was a hard sell! But a couple of months ago, I noticed a grey spot on one of his non-capped molars. Double sigh. However, we've kept at it and after a while, it went back to white. Fingers crossed!
Tomorrow we have someone coming out to give me an estimate on replacing our windows. We do not have the money to do this, but we're also losing a lot of climate controlled air from our craptastic windows. Just to satisfy our curiosity and perhaps develop a savings strategy, we're going to see what we might be looking at. Man, trying to be energy-wise is super expensive!
Okay, idiots. That's it for today. Thanks for reading! And drop me an email if you'd like, since as far as I can tell, the comments still aren't working. My email address is firstname.lastname@hotmail.com, except, you know, with my name. Au revoir!
Saturday, October 5, 2019
The Ravages of Time
In the past three years, I've changed. Physically. Like a lot.
I stopped restricting and doing exercise I didn't like years ago. Then I had another kid. And I breast-fed. A long time. I thought once I finished that maybe my, uh, chestral regions would go back to "normal" size, but they didn't. They didn't stay the same size, either. They got bigger! When I see pictures of myself from even just two years ago, the first thing I think is, "My boobs were so small!" So that's one thing.
But my face, too. I think it's a combination of weight set point being higher and my face finally catching up, and, honestly, age. I feel like my face is showing my age more now than it did a couple of years ago. For one, my features used to look like they took up a lot more of my face, and now they don't. It's kind of odd.
So when I see older pictures of me, I know it's me, but it almost looks like looking at a different person.
And, whereas before, I definitely would have pined over how "skinny" I looked in some shots, now I'm frankly alarmed at how much less room I was taking up.
I'm learning to view photos as memories frozen in time and to find the nostalgia in the moments they record, separating my ego from the process as much as possible.
It's definitely a process.
Once, after I'd lost a bunch of weight, we had family Christmas pictures taken. I'd agonized over what to wear, in the end choosing a black boxy sweater that was cute but not form-fitting in the least. When we got the proofs back, I kind of humble-bragged the truth to my ex-husband that I had thought about wearing something more body-conscious but went with something that would draw less attention to my "transformation." Unimpressed, he deadpanned, "No one's going to look at you in these pictures. They're going to look at our beautiful child." I mean, it hurt, but he wasn't wrong.
The biggest thing that I keep coming back to when I experience momentary surprise at how I appear in more candid pictures is to remember, "This is exactly what everyone else sees every dang day." I only see myself in front of the mirror or when having a posed picture taken (unless the front-facing camera accidentally comes on, then look out!!). So the mental image I have of myself is quite controlled. Everyone else sees me sitting, stretching out, double chinning it, etc. and so pictures of me aren't shocking to them... if they're even really looking at me. And they probably aren't.
I don't mind getting older. I don't mind looking older. I don't harbor fantasies that I can still pass as a co-ed. So it's fine.
I have a friend who was invited to a reunion recently, and she told me, "If I were skinny, I'd go. I could show them how fabulous and successful I am." I love her, and she IS fabulous and successful. And if she wanted to go, I wish she'd go.
I don't want her to be captive to presenting a certain body type in order to be pleasing to a critical eye (in this case, her own, but she's projecting on former co-workers), and I certainly refuse to be. If anyone has a problem with this, then I'm going to leave you with the wise words of one Ms. Edna Turnblad:
I stopped restricting and doing exercise I didn't like years ago. Then I had another kid. And I breast-fed. A long time. I thought once I finished that maybe my, uh, chestral regions would go back to "normal" size, but they didn't. They didn't stay the same size, either. They got bigger! When I see pictures of myself from even just two years ago, the first thing I think is, "My boobs were so small!" So that's one thing.
But my face, too. I think it's a combination of weight set point being higher and my face finally catching up, and, honestly, age. I feel like my face is showing my age more now than it did a couple of years ago. For one, my features used to look like they took up a lot more of my face, and now they don't. It's kind of odd.
So when I see older pictures of me, I know it's me, but it almost looks like looking at a different person.
And, whereas before, I definitely would have pined over how "skinny" I looked in some shots, now I'm frankly alarmed at how much less room I was taking up.
I'm learning to view photos as memories frozen in time and to find the nostalgia in the moments they record, separating my ego from the process as much as possible.
It's definitely a process.
Once, after I'd lost a bunch of weight, we had family Christmas pictures taken. I'd agonized over what to wear, in the end choosing a black boxy sweater that was cute but not form-fitting in the least. When we got the proofs back, I kind of humble-bragged the truth to my ex-husband that I had thought about wearing something more body-conscious but went with something that would draw less attention to my "transformation." Unimpressed, he deadpanned, "No one's going to look at you in these pictures. They're going to look at our beautiful child." I mean, it hurt, but he wasn't wrong.
The biggest thing that I keep coming back to when I experience momentary surprise at how I appear in more candid pictures is to remember, "This is exactly what everyone else sees every dang day." I only see myself in front of the mirror or when having a posed picture taken (unless the front-facing camera accidentally comes on, then look out!!). So the mental image I have of myself is quite controlled. Everyone else sees me sitting, stretching out, double chinning it, etc. and so pictures of me aren't shocking to them... if they're even really looking at me. And they probably aren't.
I don't mind getting older. I don't mind looking older. I don't harbor fantasies that I can still pass as a co-ed. So it's fine.
I have a friend who was invited to a reunion recently, and she told me, "If I were skinny, I'd go. I could show them how fabulous and successful I am." I love her, and she IS fabulous and successful. And if she wanted to go, I wish she'd go.
I don't want her to be captive to presenting a certain body type in order to be pleasing to a critical eye (in this case, her own, but she's projecting on former co-workers), and I certainly refuse to be. If anyone has a problem with this, then I'm going to leave you with the wise words of one Ms. Edna Turnblad:
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