Strong Jawline and I were running along the bay yesterday morning, just leaping like gazelles with no stiffness, pain, perimenopause, or plantar fasciitis.
No, we weren’t. That was Strong Jawline, huddled under a blanket on the couch for three days after throwing his back out gardening, and that was me, buying three bottles of rosé in one week because it’s SUMMER BITCHES.
Read MoreIt's January in Mendocino County. I know this because I'M IN MENDOCINO COUNTY BITCHES. It's rainy, I'm alone, I brought so much kale, chard, parsley, cilantro, and dill they put it all in one paper bag at the grocery store, I took a walk on a country road where the only thing I heard were my footfalls. It's ME TIME FOR THE MIDDLE-AGED.
I'm out here because a couple months ago I hit the wall like REALLY hit the wall and asked SJ if I could go away by myself for more than a week. This guy. Immediately he says yes. Hugs me. Says it's a great idea. We have TWO KIDS but more importantly TWO CATS – the kids have redeeming qualities at least. Right after I left, everyone got sick, including one kid puking, plus it was a holiday weekend, which to anyone who doesn’t know means NO SCHOOL which means NO CHILD CARE. SJ is having NOT ME TIME.
Read MoreIt's January in San Francisco. This used to mean a lot of drizzle, but these days it means dazzling sunshine or torrential rain. A few days ago I parked outside our house and asked SJ to open the front door so I could run from my car (through torrential rain, not dazzling sunshine). This is not normal (torrential rain is not normal, obnoxious requests are de rigueur).
Read MoreI’m upstairs with Gargantubaby — who, now age 6, needs a new nickname (perhaps Gargantufirstgrader) — setting him up to do art. It’s warm the way it always is up here, so I grab one of his bigger books to prop the door open.
Mommy, he says, you can’t do that. You didn’t get my permission.
You’re right, I say, surprised. May I have your permission to use one of your books?
No.
Um. What should I use to prop open the door?
He shrugs. You need to figure that out, he says.
Read MoreGargantubaby, post-bath, wearing his white cat towel hat over his long blond hair and Superman towel: Mommy, I want to have black skin.
Jenny: Black like this? (Points to my running tights.)
Gargantubaby: No. Black like Black people.
Jenny: Tell me about that.
Gargantubaby: I want to be Black.
Jenny: Oh, yeah?
Gargantubaby: Well. I don’t want to get arrested for no reason.
Jenny: Definitely not. Tell me some good things about being Black.
Read MoreI've been thinking about how, in the face of some intense challenges these past five years WHAM WHAM WHAM, I have managed to keep my wits about me.
Is it because I'm a superior human being? Is it because I have anything recognizable as a good habit? Is it because I take a five-minute walk every half hour to stave off death, the latest fear fad suggested by "research"? (Do I keep my wits about me?)
None of the above!
So, I've been thinking about why and how I'm still in relatively good shape mentally and physically (blood pressure: 116/77!) – in addition to all the privileges that come with my race, socioeconomic status, access to education, etcetera etcetera, which are, let’s be real, the leading factors.
Read MoreGargantubaby: Mommy, let’s play doctor. (Looks serious.) What is your problem today?
Jenny: I have a son who won’t get out of bed.
GB: (Whispers) Pause. Mommy, doctor is for when something’s broken or you’re sick.
Jenny: Oh, OK, I’ll do it right.
GB: (Looks seriously at me again)
Jenny: I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m tired all the time.
GB: I think we should squeeze your boob. (Squeezes my boob)
Jenny: Oh, thank you, I have so much energy now!
I cuddle him and kiss all the parts of his face as I name them so he won’t notice I’m scooping him up and taking him to the kitchen for breakfast.
Read MoreIt's the end of December in San Francisco, which means I can't comfortably wear flip-flops and occasionally there are some leaves on the sidewalk. We passed that annual milestone, the turning-on of the heater, which makes a pleasant boom below us in the garage before hot air seeps upward through three of the four wall vents (the office will always, always be cold). In the morning I prop Gargantubaby's clothes on the living room vent before crawling into bed with him and stripping him naked before he's fully awake so he won't scream about being shoved into cold jeans. It's on mornings like these, when he balls his fists and yells "MOMMY!!!!!" with a look of rage and helplessness that I recognize so well that I think, Thank god I only have one.
Read MoreIt’s the end of summer in San Francisco. I would report on the weather, but who fucking knows what the weather is anymore. My baby has been 5 years old for one month. He started kindergarten two weeks ago. He feels “nervous” all day at his new school, a massive K-8 public school in the heart of the Mission, which has a graffiti-covered parklet where unhoused residents sleep in the fetal position, and there’s a human turd in one of the planters (I checked for it this morning — still there).
Read MoreNever in my life have I actually prioritized my mental health. And I've been prioritizing it for four months now. As it turns out, watching a lot of TV and not doing shit is what prioritizing my mental health looks like. Importantly, I finally — finally — decided to put my kid in his own bed YES I KNOW HE'S ALMOST FIVE I WASN'T READY HE'S SO FUCKING CUTE WHEN HE GIGGLES IN HIS SLEEP. I stopped cooking, and I walk as much as possible in the mornings at Heron's Head Park. I keep my head down at work (mostly), and I don't start fights (mostly).
Read MoreSaturday, February 19, 2022, was a perfect day.
GB and I woke up late. I made a new recipe, pumpkin pancakes, that were easy and turned out fantastic. In the cool morning air, we carried books and art supplies through the magical fairyland that has become our back yard, with the plum and apple trees blossoming pink and white, the crocosmia flaming orange, and their copious leaves fanning bright green higher than our heads. I drank my tea and we snuggled, barefoot, in our sleeping bags and read stories.
My friend Lindsey had texted me the night before to invite us to the beach, and lo and behold we had NO PLANS, so after finishing my tea I packed us a picnic lunch and a few beach toys, and GB and I set off for Ocean Beach to MEET FRIENDS IS THIS POST-PANDEMIC OR WHAT. GB and I parked near Judah and walked all the way to the Beach Chalet, then hung a left onto the sand.
Read MoreI got some feedback this week. Basically, it went like this: You have communication issues and everyone says so.
HAVE WE MET YES I KNOW
I’m not a New Year’s resolution kind of person. This is because I have not been able to keep resolutions, and each subsequent failure compounds my sense that This Is Just The Way It Is and I Will Always Shock People With How Unprofessional I Can Be. These are some past resolutions:
Stop talking.
Lead with empathy.
Be a better person.
Go in with humble inquiry.
Stop talking to my parents about financial issues.
I spent most of 2021 hawking my book, You Look Tired: An Excruciatingly Honest Guide to I Don’t Even Remember Right Now. Some cool shit happened:
I got paid $70,000.
Badass writers Jancee Dunn, Bunmi Laditan, and Meaghan O’Connell blurbed it.
Badass writer Beth Spotswood at the San Francisco Chronicle did a Q&A with me that ran in the Datebook section (the storied Sunday “Pink Pages”).
Some very cool radio stations and blogs had me on as a guest and interviewed me (thank you, every single one of you content creators and art lovers!!! Except the prime-time Republican with the sound effects who tried to get me to talk about how much “we” hate women who “lose all the baby weight”).
We met Kathy in the parking lot and wandered into the nursery, where, lo and behold, for the first time ever, I saw a crowd! It was happening! There was the live music, just on a break: A group of musicians wearing face paint and gold lamé chatted on the stage beneath a pavilion. A little girl with long brown hair held an orange chicken to her chest. I noticed that everyone seemed to be talking in groups and appeared to know each other. I also noticed that some of these groups turned to look at us and didn’t smile, but this happens often enough in the NIMBY Bay Area that it didn’t tip me off. Remember: BAY NATIVES TOLD ME THERE WOULD BE OYSTERS.
Read MoreI’ve known for months that something has to give. In just over a week I’ll be 45, and if I don’t slow down, stop fighting every fight, stop working so much, stop eschewing leisure time and exercise I am doing to DIE. So I have become even more lax in responding to email, fallen off social media, and stopped promoting my book (well, not completely BUY MY BOOK FOR GOD’S SAKE I’LL HAVE A HEART ATTACK IF YOU DON’T). I also have been taking advantage of my new hours at my new job to take morning walks at Heron’s Head Park, where every day I can see seals, puppies, and an incredible variety of birds.
Speaking of jobs, I sent this letter to my former employer this morning: …
Read MoreWe’re in the car, driving across San Francisco. It’s Sunday afternoon.
Mommy? How did people make this world? GB asks.
What do you mean? I glance at him in his car seat over my shoulder.
The restaurants and stuff like that.
This is the conversation I've been preparing to have for four years. Maybe it’s not the conversation he’s asking for, but I see my opening. We’ve talked about skin color, racism, the police. He knows the names of some people: Malcolm. Frida. Maya. Langston. Martin. I’ve stocked our house with books about all kinds of people. But for the first time, my kid has asked a question.
Read MoreGB, my son, my Gargantubaby, turned four years old on a sunny, mild afternoon a couple of Sundays ago. It's the second birthday he's had in captivity. The plan was to host a superspreader event at a park on Sunday, then put the family in the van on Monday and drive into the heart of a wildfire for a family vacation. California living!
Read MoreIt's long been known that engaging in routine physical activity is extremely important for promoting brain health and longevity.
COULD WE SAVE THESE ARTICLES UNTIL WE'RE ALL CLEAR OF A PANDEMIC THAT KEEPS US HOUSEBOUND
Read MoreOn Saturday, May 22, 2021, I take Gargantubaby, who is three and a half, to visit my parents in Evanston, Illinois. It's the first time we've all seen each other since January 2020, when GB was two and my parents came to San Francisco from Evanston and my brother and sister-in-law flew in from China.
SATURDAY
It's been long enough that my parents forget that when they pick me up from the airport, I sit in the backseat writing down everything they say.
They have an age-old dynamic where my mom tries to tell my dad directions, and Dad tries to quiet her with a dangerously calm, "Rose." She's never right, but she never stops trying to give him directions. It starts before we're even out of the airport, on our way to the elevator to the parking garage.
Read MoreWe're at the playground in Dolores Park. Gargantubaby is heading to the top of the tall slide, so I head for the bottom to watch him. I stop in the middle of the stairway, shaded by a tree. Above me, at the top, I see an adult woman: skinny black jeans, good shoes, black tank top, fashionable blue-and-white-striped mask, expensive sunglasses. She's waiting, amid the children, to go down the slide. Gargantubaby cuts in front of her, swinging under the railing.
When she makes a "what the hell" gesture at his little back, I know we're in trouble.
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