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Category: LIFE

EASY KOOL-AID SLUSHES.

FOR CHARLIE, ON HER FIRST DAY OF KINDERGARTEN.

SUNFLOWER FIELDS, FOREVER.

ALLEGAN ANTIQUES MARKET

THE GUILT GOES ON.

TULIP TIME 2019

PRETTY AS A PICNIC

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HI, FRIEND!

HI, I’M BECKA. I’M A WIFE AND A GIRL MAMA, THREE TIMES OVER. WELCOME TO OUR EVERYDAY LIFE–I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE HERE.

Instagram

Social Media feels a lot like screaming into the void and hoping someone hears you and cares enough to scream back. This picture may look pretentious and stupid and “trying too hard” but what it’s screaming is “ISN’T SOUP THE GREATEST? HERE’S A PICTURE OF SOUP I MADE!” And just hoping someone who likes soup or makes soup screams back in solidarity across the wires that keep us “connected”. I’m a mess, it’s fine. Cool, cool. 🥣 #beckacooks

"During long lulls in the afternoon, she thought about him, how peaceful he seemed. This had always frightened her about marriage: how satisfied married people seemed, how unable they were to ask for more. She couldn't imagine feeling satisfied. She was always searching for the next challenge, the next job, the next city. In law school, she'd become prickly and analytical, gaining a sharpness while Luke had rounded and filled. She felt hungry all the time---always wanting, needing more---but Luke had pushed away from the table already, patting his full stomach."

The top plate is Charlie’s—her fruit salad can’t have blueberries and the strawberries have to be MINCED and her sandwich can’t have cheese or she won’t eat it even though she eats cheese in every other form. She’ll eat salami if it’s thin and ham if it’s “cut like Easter ham”. She tolerates vegetables but only if they’re raw. Lucy’s is the middle plate—my only kid who will allow blueberries on her plate and will cry if she doesn’t have the same portion as her sisters even though her appetite is smaller. She won’t use the ranch so it goes back in the fridge but if it’s not on her plate she’ll throw a fit. The bottom is Maisy’s—she’ll eat cheese on her sub but she will abandon ship as soon as the bread starts to fall apart. She says pineapple makes her tongue break but she begs for it anyways and if the ranch “soaks” too much into her veggies she’ll throw them right out. This is every meal. Knowing what kid hates what thing and will tolerate another. 3 meals a day plus snacks everyday. Same goes with drinks and how they like their drinks. It’s information that nobody cares about but me but god it takes up so much of my life everyday without me even knowing it. This is the same for clothing preferences, medicine delivery methods, hair brush preferences, learning methods, TV show preferences; popcorn toppings, emotional responses to things and how they need to be consoled or praised or disciplined. It is so much all of the time. The weight of this knowledge that’s relevant to nobody but me. I’m just tired. Tired of this endless Venn diagram that keeps all of the plates from falling. The combination of everyone’s needs that keep them mostly happy and not crying or whining. I’m just tired, so tired. So if you know a mom that’s home with her kids all day everyday with no social interaction or break from the constant sensory overload of her children—she’ll say she’s okay but she’s not.

Fun Food Friday strikes again. I will always wax poetic about “Chicago” food. This Italian Beef with double fried Cajun fries was *chefs kiss*. Happy 🍟 Day. #beckacooks #italianbeef #thatsamorebb

Officially arrived at the matching-tie dye-sweatsuit part of quarantine. They ask to wear pajamas most days anyway so they are v thrilled. Happy weekending, friends. 💕#thehorschlergirls #stayhome #comfies

"He is the most obvious thing that has ever happened to me, and all around the city it is happening to other silly, half-formed women excited by men who've simply met the prerequisite of living a little more life, a terrible unspecial thing that is just what happens when you keep on getting up and brushing your teeth and going to work and ignoring the whisper that comes to you at night and tells you it would be easier to be dead. So, sure, an older man is a wonder because he has paid 38 years of Con Ed bills and suffered food poisoning and seen the climate reports and still not killed himself, but somehow, after being a woman for 23 years, after the ovarion torsion and student loans and newfangled Nazis in button-downs, I too am still alive, and actually this is the more remarkable feat."

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