I was recently chatting with an Italian friend who is due with her second child in the next few weeks. She confessed some concerns about how she could love her new baby as much as her first, but she draws comfort from a saying that she translated and shared with me:
“Love is the only whole number that you can multiply by dividing.”
How beautiful (& true) is that?
Related: the most profound poem about children // “do you think you’ll keep going? or are you done?”
Monday gets a bad rap, but Tuesday is the real problem.
Hear me out. On Monday, you have the energy of the weekend in your sails. On Monday, you are generally well-rested. On Monday, people are still asking you, “how was your weekend?” and you have stories to tell.
By Tuesday, you are cozying up to that second cup of coffee like it’s the fountain of youth. You have not even reached the halfway point of the week. No one asks, “how was your Monday evening?“
I have posited this position many times and found counter-arguments underwhelming. But then recently, I faced a new version of this and was genuinely stumped.
The quandary: let’s say you’re permitted to work a 4-day week. What day do you choose off?
My sister and I debated this last night while stuck in a 50-minute, real-life version of one of our favorite childhood games, Rush Hour. Consider the following:
- Take Friday off: the obvious choice. A consistent long weekend, and Fridays are usually quiet so you’re not “missing” much.
- Take Monday off. A consistent long weekend, and Fridays are usually quiet and you’re not “missing” much! But when would you get your best heads-down work done if you didn’t work Fridays?
- Take Wednesday off. Two days of high quality work, take a breath and run your errands, and two more days of quality work, with the Friday quiet.
Or, as a colleague put it when we joked our way through this informal icebreaker… “then again, you could choose Thursday or Thursday, but then you’d obviously be a sociopath.”
I’m curious: what would you choose?
Related: other ways to make the mundane memorable // in defense of Tuesday…
life with four boys is
a lot like dessert at the
local biker bar.
Related: “bottle service” haiku // how we learned about this bar’s family-friendliness.
woken at seven:
“someone maded a mess, mom.”
…dozens of spices.
J, 20 minutes later, bounding down the stairs and then stopping short of the kitchen: “why does the whole house smell like pizza?”
Related: hangover haiku // on the other hand, he provides different, world-changing, day-to-day perspectives?
Last night, school called a preemptive snow day based on a likely miserable morning commute. Work did not. Today therefore became an unofficial “take your school-age-children to work day.”
Naturally, those are mugs of sprinkles.
Related: Miss Laurie also canceled today *sobs* // great career advice.
(AS OBSERVED FROM A HOUSE FULL OF TINY MEN, OVER BREAKFAST)
Me: today is International Women’s Day, boys! Do you all know what IWD is all about?
Boys: *shaking heads while consuming their way through the better part of a loaf of cinnamon toast*
Me: IWD is about celebrating the power and contributions of all the women around you. You guys know a lot of amazing women, don’t you?
Boys: yeah!
Me: like who?
J: you!
O: Gigi!
J: Ethan’s mom!
A: Aunt Erin!
Dave, walking into the room: but who is your favorite international woman today?!
O: Minnie Mouse!!
A few hours later, over a morning coffee chat with some distinguished international women in my professional world, I joked about starting my day with this moment of celebration and humility with my sons.
But then one of my colleagues quipped, “hey, Minnie is an international icon, small business owner, and entrepreneur; Happy Helpers anyone? Your son is onto something.”
Another woman chimed in, “yeah — plus she has a female business partner… and does it all in heels.”
Happy International Women’s Day, everyone.
Related: 3 ways I’ve tried to be intentional with my sons // The Ford Explorer: Men’s Only Edition (audio or sub-titles on!)
High of 43*. Independence is very much in vogue. Proudly walks into my room post-bath, having been instructed to dress himself:
“How do I look, Mom??”
And then proceeds to play outside with the neighbor kids wearing his unicorn-print-patterned winter jacket similarly unzipped from mid-afternoon till dinnertime.
Related: clearly they’re related // unspoken arrangements mean no matter what our kids wear, it will never require more than a machine wash & dry
A few weeks ago, a friend invited me out to a Friday lunch. While we’ve known each other for the better part of a decade, our interactions have been largely centered around the goings-on of our first-born children who formed a fast and easy friendship during daycare. We sit by each other so we can tag-team scolding our sons for being noisy at the movies. We know each other’s in-laws because of how many backyard birthday parties we’ve attended. We have photos on our phones of our children as toddlers with their baby-teeth grins, and now at their Rec & Ed basketball practices.
So when she invited me out for an exceptionally rare 1:1 date, I blocked my calendar, thinking perhaps she had something to tell me.
Instead, we said our hellos, ordered a couple of Cokes, and she clumsily began:
“I don’t know how to start this without being kind of awkward, so I’m just going to start it. They always say, ‘check on your strong friends.’ I know we don’t talk that much about ourselves, but you are among the strongest women I know, so I just… I just wanted to check in on you.”
An open invitation to voice whatever may be troubling you, without sacrificing your sense of keeping it together?? How amazing is this?!
Filing this away in the “friendship pro tip” mental folder for use at a future date.
Related: the six forces that fuel friendship // when your friends arrange a reality-TV-worthy double date
