I’m a bit late (OK, a lot late) in sharing my latest essay for Cleveland Magazine. Its real headline (the one you see here) is the one my editor gave it, but I just like to call it “The Oma Pan.” It’s a story of stuff and memories and clutter and grandmas—I hope you’ll take a read if you haven’t seen it yet.
Anyone else have whiplash from this long, strange January?
We started with so much hope, a fresh page. Then, worsening COVID numbers (including the illness of one of my loved ones, who has since recovered), violence at the Capitol, impeachment.
Last week, I felt an unfamiliar sensation: hope. The week was rightly dominated by raves for Amanda Gorman (you’ve seen the 22-year-old poet’s spellbinding recitation of her incredible poem “The Hill We Climb” at the inauguration, right?) After ugliness and mayhem earlier in the month, Amanda Gorman brought true patriotism (accountable, aspirational patriotism), goodness, hope, and dignity, all wrapped up in a sunshine-yellow coat, and shone it all out on those same Capitol steps. And that, my friends, is why we need art. ❤️
(Oh, and HUMOR. Yeah, it’s kind of jumped the shark at this point, but it felt good to enjoy some pure laughter at sillier and sillier memes starring Bernie Sanders in his mittens, didn’t it?)
The Latest: “Crap”
Ahem. While we’re talking about the power of words: Did you know, it is more effective to refrain from referring to your children’s widely strewn belongings as “crap.”
I, a natural slob who aspires to neatness, cannot own too many belongings. I simply can’t manage lots of stuff. That, in turn, means I am constantly trying to declutter the excess items that put me over the edge into mess. And it does help.
Which is how I find myself losing my chill every once in a while and yelling, “Get all this CRAP out of here!” Crap is about as sweary as my kids hear me get, so they know to scurry around and pick up their strewn and crumpled whatevers before Mom comes even more undone. (Before I lose my crap?)
But—file this under Obvious Things—it turns out barking about “crap” is not, in fact, very effective. Lately, here is what actually seems to be WORKING (and is NICER):
Instead of, “*Sigh* Can you clean up your lunch dishes and school stuff?”, I’m having more success with “Can you make the dining room table look pretty for dinner? (Note my restraint about the lunch stuff! It’s 5 p.m.!)
Instead of “You have too much stuff. You have got to get rid of some things,” I’m having more luck with “Can you think about which things aren’t so much your favorites anymore? It’s so crowded in this closet, and I want you to be able to really enjoy your favorites! Let’s make them really easy to find.”
OK, so this is a small improvement. But there is still plenty of mess (and more nagging/reminding than I’d like). I need your help: How do you get your kids to manage their belongings 1) neatly and 2) cheerfully? (#2 may be too much to ask?!)
The Latest: Tiny Parties
Obviously there are no REAL parties, and winter is currently showing me swatches of Endless Gray, so we’re declaring random parties. Inauguration Day? USA fruit skewers (see below) and a chocolate baking contest. Cleveland Browns in the playoffs? A cheese puff vs. Cheeto taste test. We just feel like it? Flowers from the grocery store and a cheerful, summery dinner table runner.
Do what you’ve got to do, right? Let me know how you’re getting along these days. I like hearing from you.
Warmly,
Sharon
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Which is harder? The everyday rush of school lunches, the laundry on the floor, the arguments between kids, and the complaining about chores? Or is it the call from the school nurse, the feverish child, or the crisis of a bee sting or a bloody knee?
That’s what I write about in my essay in the brand-new anthology So Glad They Told Me: Women Get Real About Motherhood. I’m honored to be a part of this book, which is about – well, let me just put this here because it says it so well:
“In the increasingly competitive culture of modern motherhood, parenting advice can often be judgmental, unrealistic, or smug. Or sometimes, there isn’t anyone there to offer advice or support. Mothers may be feel isolated and lack a support network to provide honest advice, and others may face a barrage of unwarranted, unhelpful tips or warnings. This collection of essays from 60 mothers will empower and unite parents with real, honest advice from women who have been there. These writers share the advice or support they received—or wish they had—on everything from pregnancy to surviving the first year to parenting teens to empty nest syndrome. Inspired by the viral essay and #SoGladTheyToldMe social media movement, this book aims to change conversations about motherhood by presenting a broader, more realistic, and more balanced image of motherhood so that women will feel less inadequate, adversarial, and isolated. So Glad They Told Me is filled with compassionate, honest advice, and the poignant, painful, and sometimes hilarious truths you wish your best girlfriends had told you about motherhood.“
Where to find it? On Amazon, of course, or you can ask your local bookstore or library to stock it. Thanks, readers, for your support!