I miss the Before Times, sometimes

I guess this is growing up!

hi all,

before I get into it: ZOHRAN MAMDANI!!!!!!!! I feel an amount of political hope that I haven’t felt since February 2020, when I was in Las Vegas organizing taxi drivers for Bernie. it is nice to feel like good things are possible and that the left can expand outside of the elite (and incredibly annoying) activist class. I think Zohran and his campaign should be (and hopefully will be!) studied because there’s a lot to learn and replicate there. I obviously have my own takes (maybe I’ll write them down soon) but tbh I’d prefer reading stuff from those in NYC who were involved in the campaign.

below is a quick little essay about missing the Before Times. there’s also advice — about bad texters, vaginal deliveries vs. C-sections, and interfaith marriages — along with links to stuff I’ve read and found interesting recently. I hope to be back soon in early July with another 10 things that are feeling good!

FYI: I am probably going to start paywall-ing some things as an experiment. feel free to become a paying subscriber if you’d like to support my work or if you just don’t want to miss anything. and reminder that I always paywall things a few weeks after I send them, so make sure you subscribe either way so it’s in your inbox.

love,

your friend Mindy 

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I get a lot of questions in my advice column (it’s anonymous, write in here!) that are ultimately about jealousy. I get it because I’ve spent a lot of my life feeling jealous of other people, including some of the people closest to me. jealousy is normal and it’s good and healthy to talk about it — and in small doses, I think it’s also healthy to feel. I’ve found that jealousy tells us a lot more about ourselves than it does about the people we’re feeling jealous of — it’s really just a desire for you to be different in some way. I’m glad to say I’m now more content with myself and my life — unfortunately most of this can be attributed to growing up and getting older, which everyone told me would happen, and I’m annoyed to say that they were right.

but! I am currently experiencing the green monster of jealousy! it’s not toward any one specific person, but all people who are unencumbered by a toddler. I am not sure if jealousy is the right word; maybe it’s just longing. I miss the Before Times. it’s sometimes challenging to talk about motherhood because if you only talk about the good things you sound smug and self-righteous, and if you only talk about the bad things you sound like a miserable prisoner of your own choices. and I definitely don’t want my son to grow up thinking anything than what’s so undeniably true, which is that he was so badly wanted and is so deeply loved. his birth changed my life and his existence continues to shake me to my core.

…and also, the day to day is sometimes difficult, obviously, and specifically over the last few weeks. lately he has soooo many strong opinions about some of the strangest things (how I peel his banana, what shoes he wears) and also, crucially, has no ability to regulate his emotions, so one wrong move by me can instigate an insane meltdown. sometimes my husband and I joke that we are walking on eggshells around our tiny terrorist who is always thiiiiiis close to detonating a bomb. I know this will change in different ways as he grows up — and maybe when he’s locked in his room playing video games in high school I’ll miss him freaking out about us not wearing matching crocs — but right now, in the throes of toddlerhood, I am struggling. there’s an “internet mama” saying that’s very common: “they’re not giving you a hard time, they’re having a hard time!” “internet mama” is a term I’ve given to things I read by moms on the internet that I find anywhere from slightly cringe to incredibly fucking annoying. because like, OK, I get that he is having a hard time… but it is true that I am ALSO having a hard time, thanks to his hard time! obviously I don’t blame him, he’s a baby! and I try so hard to be patient with him even when I feel like I’m going to lose it, and I’m sure I do lose it sometimes (pobody’s nerfect as my sister says).

but the thing about parenthood that I didn’t really understand until I was in it (how could I?) is that it’s truly constant and never-ending. gone are the long, lazy mornings or the full days of doing whatever we want; everything revolves around our son’s naps and bathroom visits and bedtime now. and even if he’s not with me, he’s with me — he’s in my head, affecting every decision I make. this isn’t a bad thing, it just is. one day he was just an idea in my head and a hope; the next he was a reality, an embryo and then a growing fetus and then a real, sentient human who continues to grow and change.

me and my sweetheart! <3

I think I’ve been clear about this in my writing in the past, but I feel very strongly that life does not end when you have a child, or at least it shouldn’t. I really hate this idea and I want to be on the record with the idea that being a mom is great, if you want it. it’s also challenging and painful like many great things are! and it’s true there’s all the structural stuff that makes parenthood difficult, and it really sucks — we work too much, child care is crazy expensive, if you don’t live in a city you’re probably physically isolated from friends. but I also think people make choices to turn inwards and burrow deeper into their nuclear family, and turn away from everyone else. I feel really grateful we haven’t made that choice, and that our life still feels very fun. our social life revolves more around our desires than our son’s, but/and we are lucky that the stuff we find fun (hanging out with our friends), he also finds fun. but it’s true that stuff has changed: the impromptu nature of our lives has been replaced with a mental checklist of snacks and a change of clothes and a portable potty. when my work is closed for a holiday, so is daycare. I used to love having a “Mindy day,” which basically meant going for a long walk and going shopping and maybe getting a drink or a meal alone on a weekday — now I just find ways to entertain my son until my husband comes home.

I remember when my husband and I first started dating — when we just couldn’t get enough of each other — and we’d wake up on a Saturday or Sunday morning, like, what should we do today? and the world was totally our oyster. we could (and often did) walk from one end of the city to the other; or bop around from one bar to another, getting a drink and a bite to eat; or stay on the couch all day binging some stupid TV show and ordering takeout; or get wasted or eat mushrooms; or build a powder room in our house (OK, my husband did that, but I supervised). it didn’t really matter what we did, just that we were unencumbered — we had no one to answer to but ourselves. when I think about the Before Times, the thing I most desperately want is to wake up and think of no one but myself.

what I want is no longer possible, and of course I wouldn’t change it if I could. even if our kid isn’t with us — he has very active and involved grandmothers who are more than happy to babysit — he’s on our minds (we’re not sociopaths!) it reminds me of a piece of prose I read nearly ten years ago:

Kolmogorov’s axioms of probability suggest that the probability of a coin landing on either heads or tails is 1, but that the possibility of it landing on neither heads nor tails, is 0. Either I would have met you, or I would never have met you. If I met you, I would have loved you. If I did not meet you, I would not have loved you. I find myself, contrary to all reasonableness, wishing for an outcome in which neither of these events occurred or did not occur.

from the moment I found out I was pregnant, I became a different person. it’s an understatement to say “I’m always thinking about my son.” that couldn’t possibly explain the totality of how my life has shifted. it’s really not about wanting to do whatever I want — although that would be nice sometimes — it’s about the significance of the obligation, which is something I’m really only thinking about now. sometimes when I’m trying to fall asleep, I’ll start spiraling; it generally goes something like this:

awww I miss my baby. I wish we were still together. I wish I didn’t feel annoyed with him earlier, I hope he didn’t notice me being kind of a bitch. I wonder if I’m doing a good job. I think I’m trying my best, but I know I could be on my phone less, and probably ask more open-ended questions and read to him more. woah, damn, I’m responsible for an entire human! like I literally keep him alive! and a lot of his future happiness and stability and mental health depends on what his parents do and how we treat him. that’s really scary. hope I don’t fuck it up. OK, stop! best not to spiral!

but mostly I continue to spiral. I wake up my husband — the monitor is on his side — and say “is the baby OK? can you check?” and he always checks, even though he shouldn’t have to, and says “yes, he’s tucked in with doggie and raccoon,” and then he falls back asleep. it takes me a while most nights. the enormity of our decision to bring a child into this world, into a society that’s so utterly cruel and careless and terrifying, sits on my chest like an anvil. I remember being a depressed teen and feeling so angry at my parents for bringing me here; I don’t want my son to feel the same way. when I fall asleep, our baby is usually there, in my dreams. (he would be really mad that I was calling him a baby, he’s been saying “I not baby, I big kid!”)

I am not trying to say I had no worries before I had a kid, or that people without children are just totally unburdened and free. but we all grow up in different ways and at different times, and I have personally felt the biggest shift by becoming a parent. I hope this is clear: I really feel that people should only have children if they want their lives turned totally upside down. it’s true what I said: life doesn’t end, but it has been upended in ways I really could not expect, in ways both good and bad. it isn’t true for everyone, I’m sure, but for me, everything in my life holds a lot more weight now. every decision affects someone else, someone who is currently unable to care for himself, someone who is almost entirely moldable. before him I thought, well, if I can never find a way to move through my anxiety and depression, I can just die. now that’s not an option, and I wouldn’t want it to be. he’s ultimately why I had a prophylactic mastectomy: I wanted to live, for him; I didn’t want to miss anything from his precious little life.

there’s no way for me to have what I used to, and I wouldn’t trade what I have now for anything — but the slow mornings and the quiet and the parties and the spontaneity of my previous life were pretty great too. I wish we could talk about that stuff more, make room for the mourning and the loss and all the things we had to say goodbye to, maybe before we were ready to, or before we knew we’d need to.

my husband’s take on growing up

I wish there was a way to more gradually ease into parenthood, but instead it’s more like an asteroid hitting the earth — or your earth, at least — altering everything in its path. I am grateful to be altered, it is a gift to be changed. I just wish we could control the pace — turn the dial and slow it down — and I wish we could go back sometimes. but there’s no back, only forward, and maybe soon the tantrums will transition into something else, too.

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ask Mindy

I have a few questions in the queue, but please continue to write in here. it is anonymous! I am only able to publish this section because people write in consistently. if the questions stop so will the answers!

Okay this question feels minor and dumb but it’s something that drives me up a wall. I know some people are good texters and some aren’t. I have a friend who I used to be a lot closer to who I still adore who is both?! Sometimes he’s super engaged in our conversation and we chat for hours - I’m aware as adults we don’t always have time to do this and I do not expect that we’re going to do this all the time at all. I also wouldn’t have the time. But after years of being friends I’ve noticed we have these conversations when he texts me something he’s interested in. But when I text him it’s 50/50 on getting a reply. So I just don't do it that much anymore. But then we will have a great conversation and I’m like okay maybe he’s engaging again and then he inevitably ignores me again (sometimes multiple times). I don’t get it? It seems he wants to talk when he wants to talk about what he wants to talk about and I guess that’s it ? Do I say something? It drives me nuts and makes me feel bad. So I guess I answered my own question. But how would you frame it? Am I being a baby about this?

I don’t think you’re being a baby at all! I have felt this way before, and so I actually decided to kick this to my really good friend who is a self-described bad texter. here’s Brittney:

If you hadn’t said “he,” I would have thought you were talking about me! As an awful texter, I want to start by saying you’re not being a baby. It’s hurtful to not hear back from someone you care about and it makes sense that you’re feeling bummed about it.

I’m an extremely bad texter for several reasons. I work night shift and in my effort to not text people back at 3am, I frequently forget to text back at all. To combat doom scrolling I intentionally keep my phone out of sight and out of mind. And…I HATE texting as a form of communication. In my brain it’s for quick updates and making plans, not actual conversations, and that makes it even harder for me to keep up!

It feels important to point out that none of these reasons have anything to do with the person who’s texting me or my interest in what they are saying. It’s a me thing. I imagine the same is true for your friend, since nothing you’ve written makes me think he wants out of this friendship. So… I think you should say something!

Tell him you want to stay in more regular contact and that you’ve noticed texting may not be the best way to do that. Ask him how he feels about phone calls or voice memos. Tell him texting is a way you like to communicate and that it makes you feel forgotten and uninteresting when he doesn’t respond. I didn’t realize that my bad texting was an issue for anyone until one of my friends finally told me. I was then able to tell people that I always answer phone calls and love a back-and-forth voice memo yap sesh. And, just being told, “this matters to me, can you try to be better at it?,” made me pay closer attention to my text inbox.

Finally, don’t go into the conversation with the goal of changing his texting habits. That might set you up for disappointment. It’s really easy to forget that in friendships, just like in romantic relationships, we have to talk to each other about the best ways to communicate and what our expectations are. Especially as busy adults with friendships that have lasted through multiple life phases. Both of your communication method preferences are equally important. A conversation can hopefully help you find a way to meet in the middle.

What are your thoughts on vaginal vs. caesarean deliveries? From both personal experience and research, do you think one is preferable to the other? If you were to have another baby, would you choose one over the other? Why? For context, I want to have a child in the near future, and so does my husband, yet I remain terrified by the prospect of child bearing. I would love your perspective on available alternatives, thank you!

I had a vaginal delivery so I can’t speak to a personal experience with caesarean deliveries, but I did have abdominal surgery recently which gave me an intense amount of respect for people who have C-sections and then immediately care for a newborn. it was unbelievably painful; I couldn’t even roll over or get out of bed without extreme discomfort – can’t imagine feeling that way and also caring for a tiny baby!

I know people have very strong feelings about birth and their birth plans and I don’t want to offend anyone. ultimately I believe that any birth is good as long as there’s a healthy baby and healthy mom at the end! there’s too much judgment around how women give birth and I know it just adds to the pressure and insecurity that new parents often already feel. with that said, a C-section is surgery and a vaginal birth isn’t, and generally vaginal deliveries are safer and recoveries are easier. there are a lot of complications that can come with surgery, and also C-sections are often necessary because of the baby’s position or its heart rate or the mother’s health. if I were to have another baby, I would hope to have another vaginal delivery – abdominal surgery is no joke! there's more info here too if you'd like to see some research.

I was also very, very terrified about giving birth, and when I looked up how contractions felt, everything said, “like the worst period cramps you’ve ever had!” and I thought I could do that…I was so wrong :) I am really glad I had a vaginal birth, but I personally had a very mixed delivery. I went from 0 cm dilated to 7 cm dilated very, very quickly, and the contractions were unlike anything I had ever experienced. it took a long time for me to get an epidural which was hell, but once I did, it was smooth sailing. I had very minimal pain for the rest of my labor and for my delivery, and I only had two first degree tears. obviously everyone is different, and I have many friends who had planned C-sections, emergency C-sections, unmedicated vaginal births (this is crazy to me tbh!), and births with really severe tearing and vaginal prolapse.

I am not trying to scare you, only to explain that there are so many ways birth can unfold, and only some of it is in your control. I can’t tell you what to do obviously, but I think you shouldn’t let this stop you from moving forward with trying to have a child. I felt traumatized by the pain of my labor, but I stopped thinking about it shortly after I gave birth, and it definitely wouldn’t stop me from having another baby (I’m only having one for other, non-birth related reasons).

Does your family go to mass on Sundays? You have been very open about the interfaith nature of your marriage, as well as your weekly Shabbat dinners; being in an interfaith relationship myself, I've been wondering how other couples integrate religious rituals in their lives. There's something about Sunday mass that strikes me as more heavy-handed than, say, hosting weekly dinners, and yet again it is a central and garden-variety Catholic practice. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the topic and how you and your husband have incorporated Catholicism in your life together!

we are basically Jews who do Christmas and Easter (non religiously, just a tree/presents and an Easter basket), so I guess we’re not really interfaith if being interfaith means sharing two religions equally. when we talked about having kids, I told my husband that raising them Jewish was non-negotiable for me. he was, luckily for me, totally fine with that – he felt strongly that our future kids have religion in their lives, but didn’t feel strongly about which religion. this is how WE do it, it’s not really advice!

we do not go to mass on Sundays, and in fact, my husband hasn’t been to mass (outside of events like friends’ kids’ baptisms, which I have also gone to) since before we got married more than 3 years ago. to be clear, I have encouraged him to go – and asked him why he hasn’t – but he’s been pretty un-communicative about it (Irish, Catholic, you get it). I think there’s a few things going on, largely that weekends are our family time and he doesn’t want to give that up, and also he likes to do his long runs on weekend mornings (he’s a freak!). but I also think that as our family and household has embraced Judaism more, he probably feels like he’s getting his dose of religion already and doesn’t need more.

I do think mass is very different from dinner – the religious portion of Shabbat dinner at our house is less than 5 minutes, we only say three prayers. it’s more of an excuse to get together with friends and mark the end of the work week, but also, yes, to imbue Judaism in our son’s life. my husband does come to synagogue sometimes (although that’s totally his choice), but I am a little embarrassed to say I’m not super comfortable with the idea of our son going to mass. I think when I really dig deep my worry is that if equally exposed to both, he will choose Catholicism over Judaism – it’s very hard to compete with Christmas! this is something I am working on because I know I need to both trust my son to choose what’s best for him and also let go of trying to control him. but also going to church (and also synagogue) is just kind of boring (although our synagogue has tot Shabbat, which is fun and nice), so I don’t think either of us are itching to take him to religious services regularly. but we’re very clear that “you and mama are Jewish, daddy is Catholic,” so if and when he asks to learn more about the religion or go to church, we will cross that bridge when we get to it! and of course, he will eventually go to Hebrew School.

TL;DR: I think it’s probably pretty hard to practice two religions equally. most “interfaith” families who are J/C do it the way we do it — they’re Jewish with Christian characteristics lol. but this is my husband’s perspective so YMMV!

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reading

The Tangled Knot of Anti-Zionist Violence

Vows

Every friendship is a love story

The sickness of “this isn’t our fight.”

The Abundance Debate Is Broken. Here’s How to Fix It.

What Gaza Needs Now

The Left Must Reclaim Motherhood

There’s a Link Between Therapy Culture and Childlessness

Some bad things that are happening

The Last Days of Gaza

Immigration Protests Threaten to Boil Over in Los Angeles

A Generation of Injustice at Tyson Foods

Two Days Talking to People Looking for Jobs at ICE

Crimes of the Century

American Siberia

American Morality Pie

Soul Prepper

The Demographic Crisis is a Fiscal Crisis