I have a pile of antiracism books on my bedside stand, and every month when my antiracism book club announces next month’s title, I hope that it will be one of those books. So far, it’s only happened once. Which means I keep being introduced to new books, but I haven’t made much progress on my bedside stand book pile.
The Chaplain is working more. I am walking, sewing, and reading less and parenting more. Quiet time has become an elusive ghost of a former life when I got to be alone for a period of time each day.
It feels like we are all in a constant negotiation for what we need, the kids and The Chaplain and I, and none of us are quite getting what we’re looking for.
So it was as we rearranged our dining room around a new piece of furniture, and my grandmother’s teacups came to the kids’ attention. They asked if we could have a tea party.
One night last week, we broke a mold.
In our house, usually I make dinner, we eat cereal, or the Chaplain orders takeout. There aren’t many variations on this theme, except when the kids step up and make something.
If I do a little dinner prep early in the day, it can give me the push I need to finish the job later so that there aren’t too many “breakfast for dinner” nights in one week (other Mom Didn’t Cook favorites include quesadillas and grilled cheese sandwiches).
On this day, I started some beans to re-hydrate on the stove late in the morning and put two pumpkins in the oven to roast.
I left the beans boiling away and forgot about them.
It’s an excellent time of year for a little escapist reading. Here are a few historical fiction titles that take place in times and places you may not have tried.
Last night, I got an email from my job. It was addressed to all the per diem workers on my unit, reminding us of our education and scheduling requirements to stay in the hospital’s good graces. There was no due date in the email for the education compliance.
Failure to comply, it concluded, may result in termination.
I set my laptop aside after reading the email and tried to figure out what about the email had bothered me. I remember a similar from one last year. When I read it, I freaked out – Was I behind on my education? Was I working enough weekend hours? (Everything was fine.)
This year, I have been so mentally bogged down by family life, homeschool life, and the pandemic that I actually HAVEN’T done my education, at least not all of it. So maybe the email WAS for me.
