Archive for the 'bling blog' Category

Ode to our UPS delivery driver

I love talking politics with our ups delivery driver. He’s just the bees’ knees.

I love talking with him! I especially loved it during the pandemic because he was often the only non-family voice I heard during the day.

I love that when I say “thank you“ to him, and he’s already crossed the street, he’ll often cross back to chat with me, in the snow, about the Wisconsin Supreme Court or the governor’s race or MGT, or whatever else is going on politically.

I love hearing him share with me his wife’s thoughts while I offer him Aaron’s.

I love hearing him give me the scuttle on the other delivery guy, who is less-than-friendly (and apparently a Trump-er).

I love this small piece of consistency in an otherwise inconsistent (albeit routine) world. It’s comforting.


Me, as a type one parent

A zillion things come to mind. But two rise to the top. One, fierce admiration for my girl and her courage and fortitude and attitude. She’s amazing. And two, exhaustion. There are no days off. This shit is relentless. Site changes, sensor changes, beep beep beep. And the sleepless nights waiting for numbers to rise or fall and wondering what you did wrong or right and researching when there will be an answer for any of this—well, those nights suck. But alas, type one. We’ll fight on.

On beauty

Like many of us, I’ve got a complicated relationship with aesthetics. On the one hand, they’re kind of everything to me. On the other, I sorta hate that. Except, if I’m honest, I don’t hate it because I care about them. I like pretty things. I like beauty. In fact, I love it. Don’t most of us?

Well, maybe. But maybe not. I spend an obnoxious amount of time thinking about art. Houses, which are art. Movies, which are art. Music? Obviously art. Wallpaper? Art. Food. Art-adjacent. Flowers? Art. Furniture? Clearly art. Lines and dots and splotches? Art.

And I think a lot about my daughter’s unfairly gorgeous face. I’ve spent an insane number of hours staring into that face and thinking about what it means to me and to those who know her. And I’ve wondered what others who don’t love her like I do see in that face. I’ll never know, of course, because I can’t unknow a mother’s love and obsession, but I can speculate.

Molly told me this week that she’s ugly. When I responded–in awe–that it was crazy that she could think such a thing, she told me that I had to tell her that because I’m her mom. I knew where she was coming from, but I tried to assure her that it’s not possible for me to lie about beauty because, frankly, it’s not. And she is–for better or worse–the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

I truly don’t know how she does it. She’s so funny and smart and kind and weird. And ridiculously beautiful and interesting. For a long time, I thought I wasn’t supposed to say that aloud. To her or to anyone. But that’s ridiculous. Saying it aloud doesn’t make me conceited or diminish her charm. It just acknowledges what I know: she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Our bedding was driving me bananas. So i went all in on new.

Gertie + new bedding

My top five pandemic buys (in no particular order)

A patio


Radiator covers

An e-bike

IKEA shelving that partitions the living space from the dining space

March 2023

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