Repeal & Replace
Hello, from the other side!
I mean, can you even?!?!?!?! The kid, totally recommend. Motherhood, on the other hand…. jury is still out. As I emerge from the baby cocoon and step back into the world, I feel different. One of the principle differences is this touching into a new well of emotion through moments of unadulterated rage directed principally at 1. Patriarchy and 2. My body (an episiotomy scar that aches, plantar fasciitis that just won’t quit, diastasis recti, a marsupial pouch that inspires strangers to ask when I’m due ((which inspires a fantasy of a joey busting out of said pouch, with a gun)). But I am grateful to be experiencing the inevitable tangle of vast and conflicting emotions at a time when there is a name for it, matrescence—the growing into becoming a mother. I feel very lucky to live in a cultural moment when people like Ali Wong are talking about the hard parts that once felt shameful, and for writers like Angela Garbes who are detailing the actual physical and social processes instead of What to Expect conventional wisdom, which is one small step above explaining human gestation with the stork. I can’t stop thinking about women of my grandmothers’ generation, who did it all because how do you cook food, clean a house, AND comfort and feed an infant ALL AT THE SAME TIME WITH ZERO HELP???? (I do envy them their “diet pills” tho.) In the meantime, when the rage sets in (which seems suspiciously to coincide with sleep deprivation and hangriness) I’m taking the advice Sally gave me the other day: treat yourself with the same gingerly kindness you would a deranged older relative who might bite your hand. That’s good advice for anyone, really.
I want to recommend to you this week a bunch of random delights that have been rocking my world as of late, because I’ve acquired a robust backlog and who doesn’t want to read a list of directives and consumables?
SMILF: Showrunner, writer and star Frankie Shaw was recently sanctioned for bad behavior so TRIGGER WARNING etc but this show is brilliant, the second season especially. It’s the only show that’s ever gotten Boston right. Rosie O’Donnell plays the mom, she is perfect AND she married a lady cop from Worcester, so I will love her forever.
"Never Been to Spain" by Elvis: who knew Elvis late-career was so witty and funny? I live for the line "I've never been to heaven/But I've been to Oklahoma." As Zoë knows, these may be one in the same.
Ginger hand cream from Trader Joe’s: Costs $2.99 and is far superior than the Dr. Hauschka hand cream I got at TJ Maxx for $12.99, which as you know is a small fortune in TJM currency. One of these days I am going to write a letter of recommendation just about my love of TJ Maxx.
Poem-a-day email from poets.org. A most civilized reprieve in my inbox from bill collectors and Grubhub promos.
The Gua Sha Contouring Stone facial at Great Jones Spa: Got a gift certificate for Christmas and indulged in this service because I love nothing more than having my face and head gently massaged (further proof that I was a dog in a past life) and that is the main event here. I’ve heretofore been allergic to the skin care craze plaguing my age bracket. My distaste stems from the late capitalism trope of forcing relaxation to be productive. Like in yoga, when the teacher calls savasana “constructive rest.” Can’t rest just be rest? I prefer my pleasures guilty, not virtuous, thankyouverymuch.
Repeal and Replace: In an ongoing effort to unbreak my brain (other measures include powdering my smoothies with this Goop-endorsed snake oil product/writing down every single thing I need to do that day including “eat lunch” “walk Bonnie” and “text mom”), I deleted Instagram. I’m sure I’ll be back because I love Real Housewives memes too much, but I found that lately when I scroll my inner monologue (which is already pretty Tourette's-y) would get quite activated and the carousel of images I’d pass would have me narrating along the lines of “fuck you/ fuck you/ you’re not cool/ no one cares/ yay dog meme/ aw, my friend did a thing, I miss my friends, do they remember me, do they think I suck?/ fuck you.” See above re rage. I talked about this with my therapist (major shout-out) who said she thinks all social media should be set on fire because literally every single person whose butt grazes her couch is antagonized by it in some form. I told her I’d been thinking about opting out for a while, and she gave me the great good advice that rather than just quitting, I have to find something to do instead, like how I might swap out tea for coffee were I to quite caffeine (I did that once in 2016 and it was categorically one of the worst weeks of my life. I remember having brunch at the bar at Ft Defiance and watching the pour-overs in steaming hot pornographic detail, while nursing an OJ and a withdrawal migraine ANYWAY do not recommend!). I’d have to repeal and replace. So, after futzing around with some phone games, I have happened upon Woody, a variation of Tetris. It’s elegant, simple, free, and so lodged in my consciousness that I dreamt about it last night. When I open the app I am singularly concerned with beating my high score, which means I am probably addicted, but I do not launch into a litany of epithets. And that seems like progress.
Anything you’re repealing and replacing these days?
News!
I wrote a tiny book for part of Simon & Schuster’s Masters at Work series, which profiles people with cool careers. My contribution, BECOMING A YOGA INSTRUCTOR, is about yoga bad ass Abbie Galvin, who is a most pleasing blend of Jewish mother and mystic. It’s out May 7, and you can pre-order here or here if you hate Amazon, which we all should. (It’s next on my repeal-and-replace list, then meat :/ and then straight to heaven!)