lammas and kids🌻

If you want me to read to you instead of reading with your eyes, that’s an option:

Welcome August! We are approximately halfway between the summer solstice and the autumnal equinox. Historically, in Scotland and Ireland, this time of year was (and still is!) celebrated as the beginning of harvest season. It’s called lammas, lughnasadh, or lúnasa. For many of us in warmer climates, we’re still enjoying the fullness of our gardens. And fighting the fullness of our garden weeds.

On July 31, I was in Hocking Hills with my in-laws and nephews and my nine year old nephew, Connor, made a bonfire all by himself with absolutely zero help.*

*This is what Connor would want me to report. We actually had to ask our Mennonite (?) neighbors in the cabin next-door for something with which to start the fire because none of us had a lighter or matches, lol. My father-in-law, Pete, was fire master.

S’mores were made, spooky stories were invented (ask about Devil’s Bathtub and “The Goat Man,”) songs were sung, and neither the nine-year-old nor the six-year-old were barbequed, so the fire was a great success.

Imagine my delight when I woke up on August 1, lammas, after weeks of the worst corn-sweaty air, to a crispy not-quite-fall morning! I brought my book and a blanket to the screened-in porch of our woodsy cabin and snuggled in until, to my even greater delight, Connor joined me with his blanket and requested a heated-up chocolate milk. We sat and chatted about this or that; about monkeys in Costa Rica and the upcoming school year and when I asked, “What’s your favorite season?” he said, “Of what?”

(His is summer, mine is fall.)

I’m probably going to cherish the memory of that morning for the rest of my life.

He was super annoying like fifteen minutes later when his brother woke up, but, hey, I’m super annoying sometimes too and I’m not even a nine year old boy.

A lovely thing I hear from others when I’m with children is, “you’re so good with them!” Sometimes, that sentiment is followed up with the irritating addition, “it’s crazy you don’t want kids!”

S I G H. If you think being able to entertain a child is all it takes to be a “good parent,” baby girl…lol. I’m an excellent Camp Counselor and a great auntie. Rest assured, I’d be a good parent too, I’d just rather get hit by a car because then when I recover from the trauma of being hit by a car, which is not dissimilar to the trauma of childbirth, I wouldn’t have to raise a kid afterward.

I’ve always had a lot of empathy for parents, especially Moms, but taking care of my nephews “by myself” for 5 days was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I wasn’t even by myself!!! We ate dinner every single night with my in-laws!!! These are two well-behaved six and nine-year-old boys!!!! Vickie came over for bedtime at least once!!! We went to my parents house twice to fly kites and fish!!!! I’m, famously, NOT their parent, so I didn’t even have to worry if they broke a rule here or there because, like, their parents can deal with that mess when they get home!!!!!!!!!! (Sorry, Mindy and Josh!)

A whole ass village to help me and I still felt like a fried egg left outside in a hen house.

I regret not being there to help my friends who already have kids. I’m sorry. I waited on the sidelines thinking you’d reach out if you needed something. That was naïve of me. I didn’t listen to blog posts like this one that I’m writing right now saying that parents need help even if they aren’t asking for it because I was scared I’d do something wrong or that it would be awkward. I regret not just literally showing up physically to your homes and doing your dishes or walking your dog or waddling with your baby so you can do whatever you want for a couple minutes.

If parents aren’t asking for help, it’s not because they don’t need it, it’s because they can’t even stop to think and formulate the ask.

Childcare is a community privilege and responsibility. We’ve allowed systems that make it harder on parents to thrive like weeds, putting us all in a chokehold. Most of my peers had one parent at home with them, at least part time, while they grew up. I only know two couples now, in my peer group, with children who can afford for one parent to stay home, even part time. The costs and pressures of contemporary parenthood are measured. The data is collected. It’s a societal failure in the United States. We need free healthcare for all, regardless of employment status; we need schools to be funded not by property tax, which causes deep inequity and contributes to segregation; we need free, universal pre-k; and we need world-class parental leave on the level of other wealthy nations.

Read it!

The Buffalo Hunter Hunter by Stephen Graham Jones is for readers who don’t mind a bit of horror in their history. It’s vampires in the same way that SINNERS is vampires in the same way that THE VAMPIRES OF EL NORTE is vampires. We’re in a real vampire renaissance and I’m loving every single bloody second of it.

Stag Dance by Torrey Peters is technically two short stories and a slightly longer story. The eponymous STAG DANCE will live in my memory for a very long time. This book is gritty and funny and weird and snappy in a way that authors who go to fancy writers retreats and MFA programs sometimes are. (I have no idea what Torrey Peters’ writing background is, tbh.) For readers who want something thought provoking and aren’t super worried about being politically correct.

Scotch on the Rocks by Elliot Fletcher is 4/5 chili peppers hot hot hot. For readers of well-written romance where the romance is front and center.

Jesse Vogel for Columbus City Council

Talk about universal pre-k! We can afford it. Learn more. 

Thanks for being here! 🙂