I have a bunch of tiny inconsequential things to discuss this weekend. 

1. This Headline Made Me Mad: I recognize that not everyone cares about Mother’s Day, and that it is a perfectly fine and/or pleasant holiday for many, that it is a non-event for some – and that it is, for reasons of loss or estrangement or jerkfacery, horrible for others. That’s why I am building up quite a froth about this headline, and about all the other “last minute Mother’s Day” emails in my inbox. Because it is clearly accepted that some people will wait until the very last second, and that’s a shitty take. It is YOUR MOTHER, or the mother of YOUR CHILD. It is not hard to remember to do literally anything to celebrate the mother in your life! LITERALLY ANYTHING! That is the bar! For me, Mother’s Day has typically been a day of ambiguous expectations, complicated feelings, and subsequent guilt. For no reason other than that Mother’s Day is a day built on very high expectations that really have no way of being met while simultaneously feeling that I should nonetheless have no expectations at all. Gigi noted on Elisabeth’s post the other day that she tries to think of Mother’s Day as about others, not about herself; it is not a day for her but a day she gives her loved ones the chance to honor her. The Lazy Genius posted something similar on Instagram today, and both of these arguments resonated with me. So I am trying to reframe Mother’s Day for myself. (This does not work, of course, if your family choose not to honor you, which is fortunately not my situation. But if it is your situation, I see you and I am furious on your behalf.) I am also thinking about Sarah’s beautiful article (which she linked to recently in a related post) about reframing the often tedious and resentment-building tasks of motherhood as acts of love, because it seems topically appropriate.

2. Indoor Outdoor: Guess who wore her indoors only shoes outside? And only figured it out halfway through the walk? Turns out you can wash sneakers in the washing machine, which is good to know. 

3. Speaking of Shoes: I have FINALLY found a new pair of walking shoes. Mine were really in a state of disrepair. I don’t know WHAT I do to shoes, but the heel part of each shoe has a giant hole in it. It took me three tries, but I finally settled on a pair of Brooks Ghost 14s. It took me so long because my typical size felt very small, and then so did the next size up. So I am wearing size 9.5 instead of 8. They are very comfy and I only got blisters the first day I wore them, which speaks more to the state of my heels than to the shoes themselves. Now I am working on finding CUTE sandals that won’t make my feet ache. 

4. I’ve Never Bean So Surprised: I went to roast some chickpeas the other day, and my can of chickpeas had a bunch of kidney beans in it! I was a little weirded out. It seemed highly likely that the beans were perfectly fine to eat, and that I should just move on with my day… but the catastrophizer portion of my brain very helpfully started coming up with all these Danger Scenarios: If the bean segregation system was down, wouldn’t that mean that other important systems could be down, too? Cleaning systems? Packaging systems that allow the beans to be safely canned? Perhaps the quality assurance had taken a nosedive at Hanover, and if they weren’t monitoring this aspect of quality, maybe there were other areas that were failing as well. If there is contamination of bean types, could there be other kinds of contamination? What if the bean containment unit hadn’t been cleaned properly, and the kidney beans were left behind and were all old and gross? So I poured the beans down the sink and opened a new can. Same issue! Kidney beans in the garbanzos! I poured that one out too and submitted a comment on the Hanover website. Then I opened a third can. Seemed fine. I rinsed the chickpeas and poured them onto a sheet pan. Where I spotted one lone kidney bean. I tossed it and roasted the chickpeas. 

5. Memory Failure: My husband picked up his acoustic guitar the other day and I asked him if he was going to serenade me. No. He instead gave me a mini lecture on… chords, I think? Not really sure. I am not nor do I suspect I will ever be interested in playing the guitar and I tuned out a little, remembering this guy in high school who DID serenade me with his acoustic guitar. He was a lovely boy, so sweet and smart and very talented at both playing the guitar and singing. He used to sing me James Taylor and Eric Clapton songs, and I remember very distinctly how cool it was (a boy was serenading me! and he was legit good at it!) and yet how uncomfortable it was (did he… expect Something? I was not interested in him romantically) (and also it is a little weird to just sit in a room while someone sings at you). (I do think I may have kissed him once? Despite not being romantically interested in him? Which felt like a reasonable concession on my part for all the lovely serenades, but also probably confused the issue for him. Ugh. How do I prevent Carla from feeling like she ever owes a person kisses?) Anyway. I was sitting there, not listening to my poor darling husband as he earnestly explained how to use one’s finger as a capo??? to make power chords???? and thinking about this boy from high school and how I could NOT FOR THE LIFE OF ME REMEMBER HIS LAST NAME. I could remember his first name. I could remember the first and last name of the woman he married. (I wonder if he won her over by serenading her? and, if so, whether he sang her the same exact songs?) (And does he serenade her to this day?) But I CANNOT remember his last name. I remember his first name. Although the more I try to locate his last name in my memory, the shakier I feel about the accuracy of his first name. There are people I could ask, of course. And maybe I have a yearbook floating around somewhere that features him and his entire name. But instead, I keep picturing his very pleasant face and being unable to come up with the name. Memory is weird. 

6. Non Dairy Update (as Opposed to a Dairy Non Update, or a Non Dairy Non Update): I have been dairy free for two and a half weeks now. It’s going fine. I don’t LOVE dairy products, so I don’t really miss them. The only place I need dairy is in my morning tea, and Nicole recommended cashew milk, so I am using that and it’s very creamy. It tastes like cashews though, which shouldn’t be a surprise based on the fact that it is cashew milk. But I found it surprising, and each time I drink my tea now I have to remind myself, This will taste mildly of cashews. I like cashews, and eat them as a snack quite frequently, so it’s not that I dislike the taste in any way. It’s just… not a flavor I experience often outside of the actual nut. The biggest issue I’m having is that I cannot for the life of me figure out how to get as much protein as I was able to squeeze in before. I have been counting calories since January (with very little luck, but I haven’t braved another option), and yogurt, skim milk, and cottage cheese have been KEY to me getting enough protein while sticking within my calorie limit. I will admit that I don’t really know what I’m doing in terms of protein, but from the resources I’ve consulted, it seems like the goal is at least 30 grams of protein per meal, with a secondary goal of 130 grams per day (some sources say as many grams of protein as your weight in pounds). I was pretty good at getting at least 100 grams per day with my regimen of yogurt-plus-skim-milk-smoothie with protein-fortified bread and almond butter for breakfast, cottage cheese for lunch or snack, and lean meat for dinner, with sometimes a little boost of yogurt for dessert. But now I am lucky if I can get to 70 grams of protein a day. Probably this is because I hate eggs (although I do eat them) and cannot eat soy (not that I could stomach the texture of tofu even if I could eat soy). Anyway. If you have Hot Tips about meeting protein goals I am keen to hear them.

7. Bee Mug: It is very grey and yucky outside today with occasional spurts of rain, which means that half of my Mother’s Day request will go unmet, at least for the near future. (I wanted to go to a local attraction we’ve never visited, because my child and husband have no interest in it; they agreed to go with me as a Mother’s Day gift. We can’t go tomorrow because my daughter has An Event; not sure if the event schedulers are geniuses or jerks.) So I am blogging, reading, and drinking green tea from my bee mug, which was a birthday gift from Gigi and which makes me deeply pleased every time I drink from it. 

What are you up to this weekend? Any email headlines really grating your cheese today? From what vehicle are you drinking your morning beverage of choice these days? Any suggestions for CUTE feet friendly sandals I should look into? Have you ever been serenaded?