MidSummer Shorts

Welcome to another edition of Seasonal Shorts, a roundup of random observations from the trenches.

***

Every night I play a little optimistic game with myself and put leftovers into little tupperware containers, even though I know it’s a 90% probability that no one is going to eat that food again. I label the container with the date I put it in the fridge, but I could just as easily be realistic and write “Throw away Tuesday 7/26” instead.

You know all about this and probably have some sort of similar practice. But have you ever realized that lotion is the leftovers of the bathroom? I recently cleaned out my bathroom cabinets, and I realized that I had enough lotion to keep me moisturized until 2035. I’ve built my collection in various ways: pressure sales at cosmetics parties, random gifts, and the fact that I purchase a new small bottle every time my hands get chapped in the winter.

So I threw out the oldest ones and resolved to try to use up my remaining stash before buying more, and meanwhile if you have any issues with dry skin, I am totally here for you.

***

I had to change the sheets on a top bunk two times this week. I have a love/hate relationship with bunk beds. Three of our kids are able to sleep and play in one room thanks to the magic of elevated beds, and I don’t take that for granted. But changing sheets on the top beds is just the worst. It’s not just the logistical impossibility of securing a fitted sheet onto a mattress while you’re sitting on it; it’s getting onto that mattress in the first place. Is there anyone else out there who would rather walk across a floor strewn with Legos than ascend a bunkbed ladder?

I’d think that the pain of going up and down the ladder would be a deterrent to getting out of bed multiple times an evening. But I’d be wrong; somehow the same children who need to visit the ER for a single ant bite can scale these treacherous rungs with the agility of monkeys.

***

It’s one of life’s little quirks that a child develops the ability to say the words “It was an accident,” way before he or she develops the moral character to feel guilt over telling bald-faced lies.

***

Recently I inquired on social media about a support group for people whose kids love to tell jokes, and I was gratified by the show of solidarity from other parents of preschool and early-elementary children. Now I’m on the hunt for more supportive communities: People Whose Kids Want to Craft with Glitter. People Whose Kids Want to Eat Lunch Every Day. People Whose Favorite Podcasts All Take a Break in the Summer. People Who Thought Ruby Might Win Season Two of GBBS.

Y’all, I’ve got some crosses to bear.

(not sponsored content, despite prominently displayed brand name)

***

I recently read my old post entitled “Abby’s News Feed,” which was my version of what it would look like if Abby had Facebook at age six months. That was February of 2010, and it was a throwback to simpler times.

I thought it would be funny to write a similar post, imagining what Nathaniel’s Facebook feed would look like, as a commentary on the way social media has evolved. It began like this:

Nathaniel uploaded three photos from Instagram.
Someone Nathaniel knows commented on a photo of someone he does not know.
Someone Nathaniel met in the NICU shared an article: “BREAKING NEWS: DONALD TRUMP IS LITERALLY THE WORST.”
Nathaniel has been added to three LuLaRoe party pages.
Nathaniel’s friend shared a picture of his paper cut.
Nathaniel’s friend shared an article: “TOP THREE WAYS YOU WILL PROBABLY DIE IN THE SAFETY OF YOUR OWN HOUSE.”
Nathaniel’s friend posted a video of a cat lip-syncing “Despacito”

And at that point I despaired for the future. Dear Facebook, what have we become?

***

We spent a whole day with some friends last week. Between us we had eight kids in my small house, but it was one of the most pleasant and productive days I’ve had in a long time. Why? Because there were TWO ADULTS tag-teaming the parenting and household duties, all day long. I cooked dinner while my friend changed a baby’s blowout (Friend of the Year: it was MY baby’s diaper). She supervised the kiddie pool while I fetched water from the kitchen. And in the quiet of the nap hour, the big kids played and we sat on the couch enjoying pleasant conversation.

If it wasn’t for the whole polygamy thing, I’d say those Sister Wives people are kind of onto something good.

***

That’s it for today!