Tiny signs of acceptance

Last night I didn’t have a snack in front of the TV before bed.

This would not be noteworthy in any way except that this is the first night in about a month that this has happened.  We’ve been snacking.  Popcorn.  Ice cream.  Chocolate.  This has been an adult time ritual that has made the day feel more manageable.  You made it through another day in quarantine.  Here, treat yo self.  I haven’t even been hungry some of the time, but that isn’t even the point.  It’s like an adult pacifier.  I do this, and I feel soothed.

And I’m not saying there is anything wrong with that.  Not in the slightest.  As a wise friend said, we need ALL of our coping mechanisms right now.

I just thought it was interesting that I was able to pull away from it.  Even a tiny bit.

We’ve also ventured into new TV.

Again, whoop di doo, but this is the first time in weeks.  We’ve been doing a ton of rewatching.  And rereading too, for that matter.  I’m not entirely sure why.  Maybe it seemed like more information would be too much.  Maybe we weren’t sure we could count on new shows to be the calming break we needed.  It seems crazy to say that we didn’t have the mental bandwidth to invest in new programming, but that’s exactly where we were.

We’re still doing some rewatching.  But some new shows and movies are starting to slip in.  Nothing too crazy.  I don’t know that we’ll ever get around to watching Mad Men.  But we did watch Ladybird and Logan Lucky.  We saw the first episode of Sex Education and will go back for more.  We’re starting to put ourselves out there again.  Mentally speaking.  Definitely not in a physical way.

These are pretty tiny examples.  Maybe they mean nothing.  Maybe I’m grasping at any sort of pattern or normalcy or anything to make sense of all this.  But I do think that they show signs of acceptance.  Of making a tiny bit of mental peace with the situation.  We still have plenty of anxiety and rage and sadness.  Just existing, however, isn’t fully taking up all of our mental space.  At least all the time.

I don’t think this is a linear process.  I may feel despair this afternoon.  I may be snacking tonight and every night this week.  That’s OK.  I just found it interesting that maybe there is a tiny mental shift.  Maybe.

Henry is a hoot: Volume 8 (Mac gets an honorable mention!)

Henry says some pretty hilarious things.  I’ve been told that I used to say hilarious things once, but my parents didn’t write it down and cannot remember even one witty anecdote.  Inspired by YHL’s Clara Conversations, I wanted to share some Henry-isms as I collect a critical mass.


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The devolution of pacifier usage on a trip

Remember how I told you guys we went to Puglia for Easter?  No?  I haven’t covered that trip here?  Yeesh.  I’ll get on that.  Next blog project:  Puglia!

Anyways, have I told you how much Henry loves his pacifier?  Or his chupito, as we call it, a holdover from Spanish language daycare in DC.  He is OBSESSED.  In his earlier days, we tried to get him to accept a comfort item.  You know what his comfort items are?  MORE CHUPITOS.  We’ve got him down to one chupito that lives in the crib.  He knows that it is only for sleeping or at least he must be in the crib to access it.  (Which sometimes results in his taking “naps” where he just sits in the crib with his chupito.  I try not to take it personally.)

The plan is to attempt cold turkey at age three if he hasn’t already kicked the habit.  This does not sound like fun to me, but hey, that’s future Melissa’s problem.  Let her figure it out.  (If we fail, however, I see 7-year-olds walking around with pacifiers here.  At least he won’t be a social outcast.)

This works out 99% of the time.  But on trips, such as our five days in Puglia . . . . Let’s just say that the rules get chucked out the window.  It usually goes something like this.


Day 1:  “No, sweetie.  You can’t have your chup.  Chup is only for sleeping.”

Day 2:  “Well, I guess you can have it in the car.  You might take a cat nap, right?”

Day 3:  “No, the food isn’t here yet.  No, you can’t run around.  Please stop screaming.  Hey, would you like your chupito?”

Day 4:  “Can you walk just a little bit more?  Uh, what if I give you your chupito?”

Day 5:  “Whatever.  I don’t care anymore.  Just take it.”

We are susceptible on trips because he knows we have it.  Tricksy Henries.  I’ve left it home for day trips, and he doesn’t believe that we don’t have it.  “Mommy, it’s in your pocket.”  “Daddy, has it.”  NOPE.  Sorry, kiddo.  Search me.  (He does.)

I do admit to enjoying seeing a little more of baby Henry when he has it.  I’m also scared of him dropping his nap when it goes away.  But it must be done.  He is fairly OK with his baby brother having the chup at times that he can’t.  And when they both have them, such as reading a bedtime story, they play chupito steal where they try to snatch the pacifiers out of each others mouths.  It is both adorable and annoying.

Enjoy it while you can, my precious

Enjoy it while you can, my precious

So that’s where we are.  For sleep ONLY.  Or at least until our next trip.

Did you chuck the chup?  Any tips?