Let’s address the cold. My children did not have school yesterday due to the cold. But somehow we managed to make it to Starbucks and then to the toy store in Chagrin to purchase a craft we do not need and a recycled kitchen towel from Hedges that replaces paper towels and a charm bracelet which reads “Girls Rock.”
Priorities.
The day prior, the day we should have had a “cold day” with the wind and awful roads, led me to a 7:30AM drive to Urgent Care near Pinecrest. You know that feeling of gripping your steering wheel as you go 5 MPH and almost slide into the intersection with your child in the backseat?
I do.
The receptionist at UH called me Michelle Pfeiffer. And I didn’t correct her. Because I’d like to tell my children that Bruno Mars is singing songs about me.
The doctor was having a tough time getting Marnie to blow in and out to check her lungs so I helpfully contributed to the process by remembering a trick my pediatrician uses. Tear off a piece of that thin paper draped over the patient chair, put it in your hand, and get your child to blow it off your hand.
It works.
Like many of you, she’s been sick for a good 6 weeks. Which has meant coughing fits at 3AM, necessitating drives around Chagrin as I await barista Blake at Aurora Starbucks to open at 5:30AM and provide me with my manna.
Marnie’s surprisingly spry at 3 in the morning, requesting “I Spy” games and selecting her very specific playlist which includes Twinkle, Twinkle, then Rather Be, Li’l Boo Thang, and Santa Tell Me. But only the Ariana Grande version. Because she is my child.
Having the kids home for snow days reminds me why I’d be terrible at homeschooling. A few minutes into the day, after math flashcards, piano practice, and a little Bible reading we find ourselves making Reese’s brownies, unloading a Costco Instacart, and dancing to:
Been reading about Luddite teens and people opting for flip phones. Support that. And watching characters on Murder at the End of the World (it was okay, not great) claim phones will be proven to be as lethal as tobacco.
I’m kind of there.
But also:
Learned that alkaline water can make a big difference for your at-home coffee maker. That if you mix in ½ cup of condensed milk into the melting butter when you make rice krispies it will change your life. And bought a new scent for 2024 based on my 3 year olds’ recommendation – “I like that mommy.” After teaching English at L’Oreal in Paris many years back, I’m grateful the knowledge I gleaned from world class perfumists has led me to the expertise of little Marnie Yoda.
EB’s into Elvis Presley these days. He can be seen jamming to Burning Love in his fort he constructed during our “cold day” with a big sign “no girls allowed,” a few cardboard boxes, and Avengers stickers plastered on the wooden table which will be fun for me to remove.
He’s also not a fan of oatmeal raisin cookies. And honestly, who is? If you’re like me, a chocolate chip cookie snob, try Levain cookies. Or cookies by Mrs. Patty Thiss. That is not a brand, but should be.
Big news from Ohio – we now have a kitchen sink that provides actual water. There’s no fancy sensor or app to go with it and I’m just fine with that.
Cause it’s a sink
Been listening to Miley Cyrus’ Flowers and think that’s probably the best breakup song ever. And also one of the saddest. Cause sure, I can buy my own flowers. But do I want to?
And with Valentine’s Day approaching, can I just say, please don’t buy me flowers. I have to water them and it’s hard enough hydrating young children and making sure I get my own fill of water each day. If you want to give me something I don’t need then please, please give me chocolates, pajamas, or an hour to binge watch The Kardashians.
Or an hour to fully read my latest New Yorker, with this phenomenal essay by Jay Katsir:
“This is why we don’t want you to watch YouTube. We know there are good things on there, like art tutorials and science experiments with squirrels, but even when you pick something that’s O.K. for kids the site keeps suggesting other, inappropriate videos and you keep clicking on them. You started by watching “55 Impossible Ping-Pong Trick Shots” and now you’ve been recruited to a militia called Lions for Christ. I’m taking four Reading Magnets off the Reward Timer.“
My parents were in town recently and if you know my family you know their first question over dinner is without a doubt:
Dad was not impressed with my initial response of “People magazine”. But dad, I’ve started using Audible so that when kids awaken in the middle of the night I can be “reading” with my ears. Finished Britney Spears’ memoir and am mid-way thru Michael Lewis’ latest on Sam Bankman-Fried and crypto.
But was most moved by Tim Alberta’s piece in The Atlantic My Father, My Faith, and Donald Trump. Tim was recently on Curtis Chang’s podcast and in a separate interview once aptly remarked that “There are Russell Moore Christians and Jerry Falwell Jr. Christians.”
Tim is nuanced. Grew up in the church. Loved his dad, a financier turned pastor who kept him grounded:
“You see all these people?” (Tim’s dad) asked.
“Yeah.” I nodded, grinning at the validation.
“Most of them won’t care about you in a week,” he said.
The record scratched. My moment of rapture was interrupted. I cocked my head and smirked at him. Neither of us said anything. I was bothered. The longer we stood there in silence, the more bothered I became. Not because he was wrong. But because he was right.
“Remember,” Dad said, smiling. “On this Earth, all glory is fleeting.”
But Tim struggled with his dad’s conflation of faith and politics. Which I totally get. Not I my relation to my dad who is open minded politically but with the evangelical church in general.
After Alberta’s dad died, a new 30 something pastor, Winans, took the helm at Cornerstone church and remarked:
“At its root, we’re talking about idolatry. America has become an idol to some of these people. If you believe that God is in covenant with America, then you believe—and I’ve heard lots of people say this explicitly—that we’re a new Israel…You believe the sorts of promises made to Israel are applicable to this country; you view America as a covenant that needs to be protected. You have to fight for America as if salvation itself hangs in the balance. At that point, you understand yourself as an American first and most fundamentally. And that is a terrible misunderstanding of who we’re called to be.”
The final words of Tim’s piece sum up what many followers of Christ are thinking these days.
“What’s wrong with American evangelicals?”
Winans thought for a moment.
“America,” he replied. “Too many of them worship America.”
That is really, really good.
I’m really, really trying to be a better person in 2024. At church we’re doing a series called RESET and I’m all in:
As we approach our 9th anniversary, I am so very grateful for my husband.
Before Eric, in my late 20’s, I remember very specific objections I received, the same objections my husband now appreciates in me.
And ladies, that’s worth the wait. Here’s what I heard:
“That’s weird that your family prays when you’re together.”
Yeah, super weird:
“You don’t drink enough alcohol.”
Or I was accused of being what people today call today “sober curious”:
“You really tithe 15-20%? That’s outrageous.”
Yeah, generosity really sucks.
“You’re obsessed with the news.”
Yeah, that’s really cray cray:
Ladies, wait for the guy who sees your value. And ignore people who question your identity, values, and strengths.
Lastly, Seb is reading Elie Wiesel’s Night about the Holocaust and this makes me tear up everytime I read it:
“Where is God? Where is He?” someone behind me asked. ..
For more than half an hour [the child in the noose] stayed there, struggling between life and death, dying in slow agony under our eyes. And we had to look him full in the face. He was still alive when I passed in front of him. His tongue was still red, his eyes were not yet glazed.
Behind me, I heard the same man asking:
“Where is God now?”
And I heard a voice within me answer him:
“Where is He? Here He is—He is hanging here on this gallows. . . .”
Now that you’ve cried, here are a few opportunities to smile before you start the day:
Chaos Coordinator 