Friday, April 15, 2022

7 Quick Takes about Being a Pariah, Well-Done Tortillas, and the Real First Day of Spring

It's 7 Quick Takes Friday! How was your week?


The 17-year-old's school play was this weekend. It went great, but unfortunately, she'd caught my cold. 

She'd been trying so hard to avoid it, too, wearing a mask around me and refusing to touch anything after I did. (It's very flattering when your teenagers refuse to have anything to do with you including breathing your air.)

But by throwing everything she had at it  prayer, chugging water, breathing steam, drinking honey tea, consuming an entire bag of cough drops during each performance  she somehow made it through her solo and was overall pretty pleased with how the whole thing went.


The other night I was trying to finish up a few things but it meant that the younger kids' bedtime was pushing later and later. At one point I glanced at the clock and reflexively groaned, "It's so late! I need to get you guys in bed, I'm the worst mom!"

I didn't think anyone was listening but the 8-year-old told me, "Well, you're not the wooorst mom."

Which would've been sweet if his inflection hadn't suggested that I might be the second-worst mom, or perhaps the third.


If you'd dropped by our house last Saturday you'd probably have been greeted by these charred tortillas. 

Tried to get a picture when they were actually on fire, but I didn't know where my camera was.

I shouldn't be allowed to use the broiler on the oven. It takes just long enough to get bored standing there, but not long enough to complete a task before they burst into actual flames and you have to run outside and fling them into the puddle in the driveway to put them out.

Embarrassingly enough, I had to go somewhere right after this happened and these testaments to my scatterbrained nature stayed in the driveway for the rest of the day. 

So it's quite possible that someone did come by and get greeted by these tortillas at some point.


The other day, the weather got warm enough that I threw open all the windows and aired out the whole house. I love doing that. It's a ritual that's come to me to mean "Spring is here!"

As I was driving around later that day, I saw the older man who lives on the corner chilling in his lawn chair in the yard like he does for most of the spring/summer, so that's two signs of spring in one week.

I don't care what the vernal equinox says, the first day of spring is when I see those two things happen.


I wanted to go out with my friend Bridget, but figuring out the rides situation for the kids was going to require some juggling. 

It was finally decided that after I dropped my 10-year-old at soccer practice, Bridget would pick me up in her car, leaving my van free for the 17-year-old to drive herself and her siblings to a church youth activity.

But through a series of unfortunate events, I ended up being so late to drop my daughter off that Bridget got there before we even left the house. "Would it be okay if we just dropped her off on the way?" I asked, and we both piled into Bridget's car.

As if I didn't feel like enough of a hot mess, I realized halfway to the soccer field I'd accidentally taken the van keys with me, and we had to go back home to give them to my 17-year-old.

So after 30 minutes of chauffeuring me all over town doing my errands, Bridget was finally able to go out and have a good time with me. I'm telling you, being my friend is a lot of work sometimes.


My teenager has a hard time finding clothes, so she has very few warm weather things to wear. We're going shopping on Monday, but she was worried she wasn't going to be able to find anything.

After talking about the situation, we decided to physically go through her dresser drawers and as usually happens, things aren't as bad as you think. She at least has a few things to wear, so it lessened her stress to know that even if our shopping trip isn't that fruitful, she probably won't be just rotating between two potato sacks all summer.

Later that afternoon, I took my own advice and went to go look at a container in the garage that I assumed was too full to hold what I needed it to. Turns out there was plenty of room inside, and if I'd just gotten up and looked at it first, I wouldn't have wasted time pricing new containers (too expensive) and brainstorming other solutions. 

So my motherly advice to you is, if you're stressed about a situation then take an objective look at it. Odds are, it's not as bad as you think.


My 15-year-old played violin in a spring recital, and I didn't realize until she told me that it was the first time she's performed a solo in public two years because of COVID. 

The cookies afterward were fantastic.

It made me think about seeing if we can get a few families together to perform for the residents at a local nursing home. I was thinking out loud, wondering if that's allowed again with the pandemic and whether we could set something up for the summer.

"I think I'll have the Chaconne ready by then," my 15-year-old said, referring to a beautiful piece she's learning that J.S. Bach wrote as a memorial for his first wife after her death. "But maybe if it's at a nursing home, I won't share the backstory."

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Unknown said...

I definitely need to hear the Bach some way!
Love your signs of spring

PurpleSlob said...

I've had my "Use the broiler" card revoked for decades now!!
My friends have to work hard too!!
A concert at the nursing home would be so wonderful for the residents!! But, yeah... no back story is a good decision!!