Just now I was in the kitchen updating the list of chores the kids are supposed to work on today. As an aside: I’d started out letting the kids choose their own daily chores, since that would have appealed to me as a child. Only Rob and Elizabeth responded well to that system—which is interesting because they are both the Little Grown-Ups type of child, the kind who from infancy seems embarrassed to be considered a child, and would prefer to sit with the grown-ups, and so on. My other three are all the Babies type of children: didn’t mind being considered babies or treated as babies when they were in fact babies, don’t particularly seem to mind being considered and treated as children while they still are children, content to be told what to do and how to do it. The clear diagnostic line for me between Little Grown-Ups children and Babies children is this: Do I HATE to have to correct them and do I cringe at the idea of telling them no—the way I might if the other person were a peer? Or do I feel perfectly and automatically comfortable with both correcting and naying? With Rob and Elizabeth, I HAAAAAATE telling them no or bringing a mistake to their attention (LITTLE GROWN-UPS); with William and Edward and Henry, I don’t think twice about it, it’s super easy (BABIES).
Where was I? Oh, yes: so Rob and Elizabeth choose their own chores and do them without being told, and I write chores on the dry-erase board for the others, and I am still not tired of choosing which color markers to write with each time. After I wrote the chores, I stood there a minute, uncertain of my previous trajectory: how did I come to be in the kitchen, writing chores, when I remembered recently making tea and bringing it to my desk? After a moment, I gave up trying to figure it out and went to my desk/tea—where I saw an email confirming an orthodontist appointment. Ah ha! I’d gone to the kitchen to look at the calendar to make sure we had that appointment, and then I’d seen the dishes on the counter and put them in the dishwasher, and that had reminded me of the chores I wanted the kids to work on so I’d written those on the board. Then I’d stood there, wondering what had happened to my tea. I find this happens increasingly with age, as prophesied by our elders.
Yesterday I took a day off from keto and it was a glorious day. I ate one of the chocolate-chip cookies Elizabeth had made the night before, and some leftover Christmas cookies/bars from the freezer, and a grilled cheese sandwich, and ramen soup, and chicken nuggets, and garlic bread, and buttered toast with cherry jam, and the new Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pie cereal which I was impatient to try and which did not disappoint, and some white cheddar popcorn chips, and quite of a few of the freeze-dried Skittles my sister-in-law sent for everyone’s stockings this year, and some fruit cups, and oh it was just great. But then I woke up at 2:00 in the morning with esophagus pains/spasms, and I took Tums and I went downstairs and took a few peppermint oil drops and made peppermint tea, and gradually I felt well enough to doze off in a recliner, though I kept waking up, giving myself plenty of time to wonder was it the FOODS THEMSELVES? or the overeating of those foods? or maybe the food COMBINED WITH my recently-renewed ability to drink coffee? I feel like my body is getting well into the long slow-but-escalating process of disintegration, and my first two prizes from the Aging Lottery appear to be Knee Pain and Assorted Heartburn/Esophagus Issues. And, like Nora Ephron, I am starting to feel bad about my neck.
Oh, and near Christmas I used a bunch of Advent calendar beauty samples on my eye region (sparkle eye shadow, eye creams, face creams), so I don’t know which if any of them DISPLEASED MY EYE LIDS, but it was apparently SOMETHING, and they’ve been intermittently unhappy since then: they’ll be fine for awhile, and then there is a little recurrence of itching/pinkness, and the skin continues to look a little rougher than I remember it looking before—though perhaps that too is an Aging thing, and I just didn’t notice it until there was some itching to make me look closely. I am having another little recurrence now, so I am putting some Eucerin (the kind that’s like Crisco) around the area, because the roughness of the skin reminds me of eczema, and because I remember the pediatrician telling me Eucerin was the best thing to use on a newborn’s eczema, and eyelids seem about that delicate, and the Eucerin does make them feel better; and I’ve also been using some allergy eye drops when the itching gets worse. WHY SO MUCH FALLING APART, BODY. I am feeling like everything’s so SENSITIVE now: have to be careful how I move, have to be careful what I eat, have to be careful what I put on my skin.
Would you like to make some Physical Ailment complaints, particularly the age-related kind? My friends and I have noticed that, as we get older, we need to set aside a nice chunk of time during each get-together for that particular topic.