Drop the Flinch, February.

I have a new office.

My back is turned to all of the kid action and there aren’t any plants or birds to stare at. The desk my laptop is on is empty still, empty of knicknacks and unnecessariness. Its definitely strange. The two pieces of artwork in front of me are fascinating me. They are darkly colorful and I dig it.

I have new guilt.

I can’t really hear the boys who are remote learning. I don’t see them start milling about when it is time for lunch. This is roughly my third day with this space. Today was my first day with kids in school and an actual routine and I forgot to make them lunch. I forgot to make them lunch. I’m pretty sure they just ate snack food all day.

Hmm. Am I a 70s mom?

I don’t think of myself as a helicopter parent at all. but clearly, it is not necessary for me to be in the middle of the action.

So is this guilt or am I feeling a loss of relevance? Or, have I done my job so fucking well that they function at a subsistence level without me just fine? Like, the wolves will not get them, ya dig?

I’m here, its almost dinner time and I’m still in here, typing. I got three times as much done today as I usually do. Its all the uninterrupted time, looking at the damn computer, that’s what it was. What will happen now that I know this trick?

When the boys were little I was in a shock-and-awe phase for quite a while. They were so damn risk-friendly, I was flinching all the time. After a while, I got over it, as a survival mechanism, an adaptation to have a healthier life. There is a point you have to look away, for your own health.

And that’s where I find myself again. Looking away, at least, more often. What will open up for me? What will open up for them?

I know, I know, Virginia Woolf. I know.

but yeah, that. here it is.

love love.


Last day of the longest vacation ever, February.


the boiler broke down. the sink clogged for two days. Now I have some kind of problem with a circuit and I have no stove or microwave. I’m totally chill. Last night I cried, on the inside, waves of self-pity.

I’ve gotten the boiler fixed. I fixed the sink and I’m waiting on God to help with the circuits because whatever has happened is defying all logic. And I’m just going without until it solves. Yes, I am.

So, the self-pity is not inaction. Its just getting worn down, feeling like quitting. I have this sometimes as I’m sure all humans do. Last night was my night for just feeling like a failure, because things aren’t easy, and they keep being that way.

BUT then, in getting takeout, I kvetched to the lady about the circuits, and she told a story of her brother ‘fixing’ a faucet and causing a geyser in the kitchen which went through to flood the basement. So we laughed, and put our heads on the countertops in defeat. And she gave me two pieces of chocolate cake for free.

There is kindness and laughter and its just life. I can handle it. I get tired sometimes, and I can handle that too.

I have crockpots and matches, so I’m good without an oven. Its going to be fine. My stiff upper lip is vibrating with heat, so I might be lying about that. (there’s always a tell when i’m lying to myself, always.)

My nephew is here and its been awesome how much that has lifted them all off their screens. Snow play, ‘hotel’ making, just plain running and a whole lot of trash talk… its been good. But now I want to take a big nap and not wake up at 4:30 for a little long time. February vacation indeed.

Fingers crossed for Thursday, when all three kids will be in school at the same time, one for the first time, since last March.

Fingers crossed and words to heaven, please.

love love,


Yep. pretty much how its been. One boy throttling another, in humor. Or is it?