The term “middle-aged” is a little awkward, because it’s a tactful euphemism for an older group than it seems to describe. If the typical U.S. human life is, say, 78 years long, then age 39 should be solidly middle-aged—but that’s not what we mean by the term. We actually mean something more like “well past the middle, but the term elderly isn’t right yet.”

I think of middle-aged people as being in their 50s or 60s or so—but it’s a stage of life more than an exact age. It’s a stage with no young kids in the house anymore (unless it’s grandkids), but no need yet for walkers, or for those chairs that help a person stand up. When a middle-aged person gets sick, we don’t think, “Uh oh, hope it doesn’t go to the lungs.” We don’t worry much yet about broken hips, but there are plenty of lost bifocals. No one is talking about whether it’s time to take away a driver’s license or “think about a home,” but there is talk about retirement. There are of course myriad exceptions (a guy in his twenties might have bifocals or have bad lungs or need to use a walker; a guy in his 60s could have little kids with his young wife), but middle-aged is a general term, so I’m speaking of the group it describes in a general way too.

I have a new proposal for terms. I was thinking about how middle-aged doesn’t describe the middle stage of life: it’s more like the third out of four (childhood, adult, middle-aged, elderly). Then I noticed another euphemism for age, which is the “senior” in “senior discount” and “senior citizen” and “seniors residence.” And the combination of “four stages” plus “senior” made me think of how we mark high school and college grades: freshman, sophomore, junior, senior.

We’re currently using senior discount to include people over 65 or even 60 or 55, so we’d have to change that. “Senior” would now be used the way we use “elderly”: deep wrinkles, white hair, fear of broken hips, nursing homes, walkers. Then we could use “junior” to cover the category we now call “middle-aged”: bifocals, falling necks, kids are grown, menopause, needlework about having the fun grandchildren first. Early/mid-twenties (depending on personal maturity rates) up to middle-aged would be called sophomores. And children up to their early/mid twenties would be freshmen.

If we’re going to use euphemisms, it’s nice to have them TIDY. And I also like the way this system automatically implies a gaining of knowledge and experience, rather than an increasing fumbling with new technology and change purses.

Do you remember when my mom and dad were on a road trip and wanted to find my mom’s old childhood house, and we all squinted at an old picture trying to figure out what the house number was? Well, there’s an update on that post, because my mom found some old postcards that had the address on it. We still don’t know what the OTHER number on the house is, or why there ARE two numbers—but I see two mailboxes, so maybe it was a multi-family unit, or maybe it was a rental and one box was for the landlord, or maybe one mailbox was for the newspaper and the other number was a word and not a number, or maybe there was a re-numbering of houses and the old number hadn’t been taken down yet, or maybe there was some other system in place that isn’t familiar to us 60 years later, or ANYWAY AT LEAST WE HAVE ONE NUMBER. And seven people in the comments section were right about it!

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Our microwave broke, which completely surprised us because that has never happened before. And just like when the power goes out and I keep thinking the downtime would be a great time to get caught up on email, I keep finding myself bumping up against the no-microwave issue in a way that makes me feel repeatedly derpy.

I’m accustomed to making a pot of coffee, taking a cup, turning the coffee pot off, and then microwaving cups of cold coffee throughout the day or even the next morning. This morning I got out a mug, put milk and cold coffee into it, walked toward the microwave—and then stood there trying to figure out why this idea no working.

Also, I’ve been cooking more new stuff, and with new stuff comes more leftovers, and this week we have an unprecedented number of them. Paul and I had no fewer than FOUR conversations yesterday evening about how he was going to heat up some leftover lasagna to eat when (1) there was no microwave and (2) I was using both oven shelves for the children’s fish-sticks-and-star-tots dinner. We just could NOT figure it out. He was going to have to…WAIT? and then WAIT MORE? instead of just putting it in the microwave for two minutes?

Sometimes when I encounter an issue of household-related brokenness, I ask Paul to look into it and fix it. Other times, either because I’ve asked him and he hasn’t, or else because for some reason I don’t want to ask him, I like to try to take care of it myself. In those situations I find it bolstering to first pretend to myself that I am living in this house as the only adult. In that case, would I call someone to fix it, or would I be able to manage it myself? If the latter, I give it a try. In this way I have recently replaced a toilet seat and….some other thing, I forget what.

Recently one of my bureau drawers was making a scraping sound/sensation every time I opened it or closed it, and also it was feeling increasingly scrapey to open/close. I wasn’t sure what that could be, but I applied the “What if I were on my own?” concept, and I thought I’d be too embarrassed to call someone in without even LOOKING for an issue, so I looked for an issue.

The bureau in question. The middle drawer is the one that’s making a scraping sound.

I took out the scrapey-sounds drawer.

What’s this? I see a screw sticking out in a way it doesn’t seem like it should be.

Oh, you can’t see it? Here’s a closer view. Definitely sticking out.

I can use a screwdriver, no prob.

That’s more like how it seems like it ought to look.

No more scraping sound! I AM VICTORIOUS!

This is fun: there’s an update on an old post! Jessica wrote to us in April 2011 asking how a second child would change things, and recently (okay, almost 2 weeks ago, I SOMETIMES GET A LITTLE PROCRASTINATEY) emailed to say how things turned out! I put the update on the post itself: Reader Question: How Does a Second Child Change Things?

Yesterday I tried twisting both sides and ending in a French fountain. Today I tried one twisted side, with the twist higher, and ending in a messy side-bun—but with the bun high enough that it wouldn’t rest on my neck, because I don’t like that feeling.

Here’s the twisted side, with the twist higher this time

And the messy bun side, bun held from side-above with this dangerous-looking clip

Here’s a back view

I really like half-grown-out haircolor and sun damage for updos: it makes it so much easier to see the details!

I like this style, too. I feel like it’s a liiiiiitle bit college student, but I also think I need to get over that: first, because what I think of as “college-student style” is now likely to be thought of by actual college students as “mom style” (see also: plaid flannel shirt still serving duty), which is completely appropriate; and second, because this IS the kind of style I like to wear (again, see plaid flannel shirt), so even if it IS also the kind girls are currently wearing in college, then SO BE IT. They will just have to share, as will I.

Thank you for all the suggestions on the casual updo topic! I clicked every link, leaning forward in my chair as eagerly as if I were searching a dating site. Also, I am planning a trip to the stylist to get long sideswept bangs, and a trip to Target to get packets of spin pins. I have a bun spiral pin, but I can’t get it to work at all: it just tangles into the bun, without being twistable all the way to the scalp as required to hold the dang thing together.

I noticed in some of the tutorials that the updoer had first blow-dried and/or curled her hair, then styled it and teased it and sprayed it and so forth, THEN put it in the “quick-‘n’-easy” updo. Those seemed perfect for second-day hair for someone who typically spends a lot of time on a style in the morning and doesn’t want to waste all the effort—but what I like about the French twist fountain is that it takes seriously less than a minute from towel-wrapped wet hair to done. I AM willing to add a little time now that the kids are older, but if I spend drying/curling-level amounts of time, I don’t want to end up with a PONYTAIL. Hillary’s “office boho” style (recommended by Alice) looked like the type of thing I was looking for, so I tried that first.

(Aside: I read with GREAT INTEREST a comment on that post from someone who was recommending my SAME French twist fountain, and for the SAME reasons! And lo: it WAS me!)

I first tried the side bun, but realized I didn’t know how to bun it in that position (I think I need the spin pins!). Plus, I generally think I look better with hair HIGHER rather than lower: a medium-high ponytail is better on me than a low one, for example. So I tried a hybrid: I twisted the hair like Hillary did, but I did it on both sides and then tried to bring it into my previous French twist fountain at the end. Here’s my first attempt (no, YOU’RE wearing plaid flannel):

Right side

Left side, kind of, and taking no advantage at all of the available natural light

THERE’S the natural light, finally, just in time to shoot the messy back and the hanging mismatched towels

I’d say it worked pretty well, and that more practice is indicated. I’d like to try twisting so that the endpoint is HIGHER; I accidentally made the whole twist pretty low, and I think higher would work better with the fountain. I’d also like to try it with a high bun.

With the lower endpoint, I’d like to try using a large barrette instead of a claw clip, and then tucking in the ends or making it less effusive in some other way—but I think that might look TOO tucked/dressy for what I like. I’d also like to see if I can bun it, or if an off-center bun nudging my neck would drive me crazy.

And I’d like to try all those things with just one side twisted.

I dreamed last night I was at a big blogging conference, and someone next to me said, indicating a popular blogger, “She’s popular—but no one actually likes her, and I think she thinks she’s proud of that.” I was like, “Come. sit. next. to. me.”—but then I had to rush back to my own seat because I was taking care of two babies for someone else. And, once back to my seat, I fretted that the blogger who’d made the clever and insightful remark would think I meant that I wanted to hear endless snark and mean mocking, when actually all I want is the occasional Highly Insightful well-placed remark TINGED with snark/mocking, and I spent the rest of the dream mentally composing ways to indicate that. So…basically exactly how I think a blogging conference would go for me.

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Yesterday I gave a ride home to a 16-year-old girl. She very kindly explained blogs and feed readers to me, using the kind of language I would use if talking to someone quite elderly who didn’t even have a computer. I kept trying to interject little comments that indicated that I was up to speed on that, but it was not working. So instead I asked her to explain Tumblr to me, because that’s an area where I really could use a little education. It sounds like it’s like blogs, except instead of writing posts, you mostly post what other people have written. She says it started as a way to share other people’s writing while still making that writing traceable all the way back to the person who wrote it, and also it’s a way to read a selection of posts by various writers but on the same topic. So Tumblr is basically Pinterest for blogging. I get it now.

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I would like to grow my hair long, but I would like to wear it up not down. In another time period, this would not have been weird, and I would have had about 50 new style choices every season, plus perhaps a young girl from a local farm to put it up for me before she got on with the household chores. In this time period, most of the updos are:

1) fancy-event fancy

2) better suited to someone in college (“Just twist here and braid there and put a feather here and some insouciance there for that ‘I’m effortlessly and carelessly beautiful’ look!”)

3) so old-fashioned looking, I’d increase the “she probably belongs to a peculiar religious sect” look I’ve already got going on with the long hair and the glasses and all those children

4) too difficult and frustrating, so that I can’t even figure out how to PRACTICE doing it

5) too Pinteresty (see #2 and #4, and also see “I am not going to blow-dry, tease, and style my hair BEFORE putting into ‘an easy updo'”)
 

My favorite way to wear it is to put it in a fountainy French twist: twist it from the bottom up, then put a clip right at the top and let the ends splay out cheerfully. I think it looks casual but still pretty. But my hair is now too long for that: there is no fountain, there is more like a long flop of hair. Normally at this point I would switch to a bun—but the last time I was in that hair stage, I caught sight of myself unexpectedly in a store mirror and realized it was looking more matronly than ballerina on me.

This morning what I did was loosely French braid it starting on one side, down and around like I was going to make a ring around my head; and when I would have had to switch hands to keep going, I instead ended it in the usual French twist. The braid used up some of the extra hair, so that was good—but the resulting style is college on one side and sect on the other.

I think it might help to add some hair in front. In those period movies, the women always have all these bunches of curls right in the bangs area; the modern equivalent would probably be one long-bangs piece that keeps getting into my eyes and is allllmost long enough to tuck behind one ear.

I went to that appetizer get-together, and it was great. I get very scared about having coffee with one person, because it’s like playing a one-on-one sport: it is ALL UP TO ME. But a group thing is like a team thing: if I need to sit on the bench for a minute, the game goes on. (Look: a sports analogy from someone who doesn’t play sports!)

I found that for the first hour I was having a wonderful time and had lots of things to say. Then it got so loud I felt like I couldn’t get a word in anymore, but I discovered the secret to what to do in these situations: I put on an alert, interested expression, and I laughed and made reaction noises in response to other people’s stories. That is a crucial role at a party TOO. And leads to far less lying in bed afterward cataloging all the stupid things I’ve said.

Also, I noticed from someone else’s negative example that there is an ENORMOUS difference between doing that and standing there looking at the floor thinking “I guess no one wants to talk to me”/”I guess I’m just no good at parties”/”I guess I don’t belong here.” In the latter, the person is (1) bringing the party down and (2) being an enormous self-centered self-pitying non-contributing baby; in the former, the person is (1) still completely engaged in the party, just doing a listening role rather than a talking role at that moment. I just read a Maeve Binchy quote where she said there’s an old rule that for a successful party you should invite four talkers and four listeners; this party had some bonus talkers, so listeners were much in demand. Plus, it’s pretty easy to fake Sparkly Listening even if you’re feeling scared or awkward or introverted; it’s much harder to fake Sparkly Talking. (Look: party advice from someone who doesn’t go to parties!)

I brought DefinitelyRA’s chocolate-chip cheese ball [Edit: oops, link now broken; recipe below], and it was the perfect choice: everyone else brought savory, and at first no one wanted sweet. But when we were done eating chicken-cheese dip and red-pepper-cheese dip and 7-layer-taco dip, everyone was in the mood for sweet. And it wasn’t TOO sweet, either, so we didn’t feel gross eating too much of it.

Chocolate-Chip Cheese Ball

8 oz cream cheese, softened
4 oz (1 stick) butter, softened
1/4 t. vanilla extract
3/4 c. powdered sugar
2 T. brown sugar
mini chocolate chips, about 1.25-1.5 cups
graham crackers, pretzels, Nilla wafers, Scooby-Doo graham cracker sticks, other dippers

Beat cream cheese, butter, and vanilla until fluffy. Gradually add sugars; beat just until combined. Cover and refrigerate for 2 hours. Place mixture on a large piece of plastic wrap and shape into a ball, using the wrap to mold it. Turn out ball onto serving plate and press handfuls of chocolate chips against it to cover. Refrigerate at least one hour. Serve with more chocolate chips in a moat around it, plus the dippers.

Here is the after photo, because I forgot to take a before:

It’s, like, 5/6ths eaten.

I made one change: instead of just coating the ball in chocolate chips, I also shook out a large quantity into a moat around the cheese ball [I added this to the recipe above when I added the recipe, in case you are wondering why I called this a change]. The worst thing about foods from the Coated Ball category (this is starting to sound gross) is that the delicious coating gets chipped away and then it’s just the plain innards. With chocolate chips also surrounding it, we could take a dip from the plain center and then touch it to the pool of chocolate chips.

Also, do you love the paper plate? I bought a pack of those at Home Goods about a year ago, 8 for $1.99, and at the time I was thinking they’d be exactly right for something, and they WERE. But I could have used a real plate, because most people took their leftovers home with them.

Also, I want to HIGHLY RECOMMEND wiggling your way into a social circle that includes parents of children in your child’s grade. Not only did I meet the mother of the girl I think Rob has a crush on (me to her: “Oh my god, I’ve seen your daughter’s name on a whiteboard in our house!!”), I also found out from another mother which girl HER daughter says Rob has a crush on. I felt like I suddenly had SECRET ACCESS.

Also-also-also, I hope people will keep putting appetizers on the appetizer-recipe-collecting post, because the plan is to keep doing these appetizer parties, so I will need to keep going back to that comments section again and again.

Coincidentally this week we ended up with one million things happening. Today is one of the worst days of the week: we have, like, seven different things, several conflicting with other different things, several of them with uncertain end-times, most of them requiring Advanced Advance Planning such as sending Elizabeth’s dinner to school with her this morning. I KNOW it will all end up fine, with me saying, “Huh! That turned out Just Fine!” at the end, and that helps a little, but I still had stress dreams last night involving not being able to remember what appointments I had, trying to figure out what time it was, children missing the bus, etc.

Also, William’s grades have plummeted and we’re trying to fix some of that this week. Our middle school has a neat thing where you can go online and see that, for example, your child (by which I mean “my child”) has failed to hand in two projects and two dozen homework and classwork assignments. The problem at that point is that if you (“I”) ask your (“my”) child what the heck, that child may say “Uhhhhhh” and look squintingly at the ceiling, apparently unable to give any further information or even remember what classes we’re talking about. So then you might have a stress dream where you’re trying to make him get on the bus but you can’t figure out how to make him do what you want him to do, and even after you get him on the bus he shows up back at the house an hour later because you don’t seem to be able to control him while he’s at school.

Rob’s grades also plummeted in 6th grade, and when I mentioned this at the time to a friend she said, “Yeah, 6th grade is a sink-or-swim time.” The work gets harder, and they’re suddenly supposed to handle it with less hand-holding. They have multiple teachers instead of just one, and the teachers are MIDDLE SCHOOL teachers, not elementary school teachers; it’s a different sort of person who wants to teach those different levels.

Rob did straighten out, so I have hopes for William. But on the other hand, their temperaments are so different. Rob is competitive, argumentative, a firstborn who likes to think of himself as superior. William is “la la la, cute cat gifs and constant jokes!” combined with “if I don’t deal with the problem, maybe it will go away.” So, like, if William gets stressed about a project, he’s likely to just…not do it. Or mention it to anyone. He’s sunshiney to have around the house, but it’s hard to know how to get him to do stuff: he either makes it into a joke or he avoids it completely.

I HOPE my agitated-masked-as-cool lectures are starting to work. The most successful part was when I said that the situation was like Tetris: if you get behind on Tetris and leave a bunch of holes in the layers, you CAN just keep building from there, leaving the holes. But it’s a LOT easier if you can work on filling in a bunch of those holes first. (This was to explain to him why he should try to catch up on missed assignments rather than just doing better from here on in.)

But even after that awesome, hip, youth-appropriate game analogy, he came home from school yesterday and I said, “Did you talk to your teachers about making up work?” and he looked squintingly at the ceiling and said “Uhhhhh.”

We got a Goodwill! We got a Goodwill! I’m so happy! We got a Goodwill!

Back when Rob was a non-cuddly little infant in a stroller and I was a stunned and isolated new mother, we had a Goodwill within easy walking distance of our apartment. I used to have a goal of getting the two of us out of the house every single day, and that was one of my favorite destinations. Pretty plate for 50 cents! Revereware saucepan for $1.99! End table for $10.00! Suitcase for $5.00!

Plus, that was where we donated our decluttering: I didn’t feel as dumb getting rid of all the brand-new tags-still-on-them placemats it turned out we never used if I knew they were going to a good cause (and to another shopper who would get the same thrill I got when I saw the plates for 50 cents).

Then we moved, and there was a Goodwill but it was pretty far away, and then that Goodwill closed. Years of twilight passed.

Then, on a day we didn’t realize we should note as The Day Our Lives Changed, construction started on a new building. We felt mild curiosity: What will it be? A new Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts, probably, since there are only two so far in that mile-long strip.

But no! No! It was a GOODWILL. We discussed it. Could it be a rumor? Maybe it is just a Dunkin Donuts BUILT BY Goodwill, and not an actual Goodwill STORE. But it continued to look like it was actually going to be a Goodwill.

This past Wednesday, my mom and I were driving up that road and we saw the full parking lot. Could it be OPEN? Is it OPEN?? IT’S OPEN. My mom made a hard right into the parking lot. And oh! The riches! A Gap sweater and a J. Crew sweater for William, $4.99 each—but one of them was yellow-tagged, so it was only $2.50.

William does not want to model his $2.50 Gap sweater

Four non-cropped sweaters for Elizabeth, who had NO sweaters this year because they’re ALL cropped, $1.99 each—oh, but one is yellow-tagged, so only $1.00!

Elizabeth in her $1.00 non-cropped sweater

A Rugged Bear pinwale corduroy dress for Elizabeth, $1.99—whoops, yellow tag, $1.00! A cute short-sleeved t-shirt cardigan for me, $36.00 store tag still on it, $7.99! A Lands’ End tie-dye shirt for Edward—THE VERY ONE I HAVE CONSIDERED BUYING FROM LANDS’ END.

IT’S THE VERY ONE

Carter’s spring/fall jacket for Henry, $1.99! A Gymboree sweater for Henry, looks like it’s never even been laundered let alone worn, $1.99!

Henry wearing $1.99

Whoooo. I felt faint. I think one reason I got so many good deals is that four of the five kids wear sweaters, but sweaters are the kind of thing a lot of people WON’T wear. So people end up donating huge piles of them: I think in the men’s section there were a lot of Unwanted Sweaters Received For Christmas (which William will wear EVERY SINGLE DAY until spring).

Speaking of sweaters, I wished SO HARD I was involved in a group that did an Ugly Christmas Sweater event, because there was a PERFECT sweater for it. Perfect in that it was not actually entirely ugly, but was nevertheless comical. Cardinals and holly EVERYWHERE. Also: it was a VEST CARDIGAN.

Then, that same night Paul and I went out on a date (we went to Chipotle because neither of us had ever been; we both liked it a lot) (I wore my new short-sleeved cardigan), and after we went to dinner we went back to Goodwill! I bought another few things for the kids, and tried on a jacket that wasn’t quite right the first time and wasn’t quite right the second time either. I looked more thoroughly in the plates and stationery, where I found a Griffin & Sabine stationery set I would have wanted very very badly twenty years ago, and maybe I need to go back and buy it. [Edit: I went back and bought it!] Paul bought an electronic item BECAUSE HE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT IT WAS. It was $4.99, that’s what it was. I could get TWO GAP SWEATERS for that. He also bought a set of three new glass storage containers, for a full-price price. I don’t think Paul understands Goodwill.