A Chaotic Mind

It has been so hard to concentrate lately.

When I say lately, I mean the past three months. Or the past seventeen years, really. My oldest child will turn seventeen next week. And it has been about that long that I have owned a smartphone, I believe.

Does it really matter who the culprit is? Children, modern technology, perimenopause, an undiagnosed ADHD? Who knows. All I can see is that it has become almost impossible for me to sit down at my laptop and STAY THERE for more than ten minutes in a row.

At home, there is always laundry to fold, a room to tidy up, some dinner preparation to get started on if I don’t want to feel rushed and overwhelmed when the kids come home from school.

In the library, where I spend as much time as I can, in the hopes of emerging with something like a paragraph, or even a few words, there is my phone. And if I manage to be disciplined enough to leave my phone in my bag, there is my laptop. No matter what, there are always some school emails to catch up on, some special school event color-coded t-shirt that needs to be purchased for Monday, an online form to be signed, an orthodontist appointment to be made, a vaccine appointment to be rescheduled for the umpteenth time because out of the four children, one is always unavailable.

All these things can be done from our computers, our tablets, our phones. They creep into our brains wherever we are, whatever we do. And the thing is, they can be delt with right here, right now. On the bus, on the subway, while we are cooking dinner, while we “work” on something else. While we are trying to write, to complete a project, to do something with our lives.

I call them “the little things”, and I do a terrible job with them, no matter how effective a system I think I have put in place. It seems like the more I deal with them right away, the more they pop up, as if trying to send me the message that I can never win no matter how hard I try.

While I was typing this, several WhatsApp notifications popped up on my screen.

One parent is complaining that 4^th graders need to walk to a nearby gym for basketball this term.

Another is asking if anyone has seen the school bus? I happen to know that that specific parent’s child is equipped with both an Airtag and an iPhone, so why the need to defer to the community? It’s not like the bus will end up at the bottom of the Hudson river.

Another one yet is congratulating 12^th graders for their soccer victory as the athletic season is ending.

Did I mention that I need to bring a pink t-shirt on Monday for the second grader? Yes, I did mention that. The color-coded t-shirt thing above did not come from nowhere.

All of this in the past four minutes.   

Please, remind me to delete the WhatsApp application from my laptop.

I thought having it there would make my life easier as a class rep - yes, I stupidly yielded to pressure and took on that role in the 12^th grade class. After all, I do not hold a salaried job right now and I guess that means I should somehow self-flagellate and pay for that mortal sin in email and messaging hours? Welcome to a mother’s mind.

Anyhow, my phone notifications now follow me on what is supposed to be the “safe” screen. There is no sacred space anymore. Everywhere I turn, there are little things.

September, and October, have been full of little things, it seems like. And big things as well. A close relative passed away in my husband’s family. Another close relative is very ill. Cousins, teachers, too many women are being diagnosed with breast cancer in our immediate circle.

So, I know, I shouldn’t complain about the little things. I just wish they wouldn’t poison my mind and take up most of my time. So that I could be more helpful to the people around me. I don’t mean my children. I think I have been TOO helpful with them for the past three years. I know it might sound crazy, but I firmly believe they need to see LESS of me right now. And I know that I need to step away from them, ever so slightly. To feel present and alive in the big wide world. Feel like I am contributing to my community, beyond the pink t-shirt for Monday, the reminders for the Senior year potluck next week.

I didn’t miss teaching for a while, but the loneliness is catching up with me.

When my children are not around, I sometimes feel like nothing more than a receptacle for all the notifications regarding my children’s lives, the obligations surrounding their small existence. Not always so small, of course. My oldest is drowning in college applications and there is nothing small and insignificant about that. There is nothing insignificant about anything our children do, obviously. But somehow their apparently simplified schedule, compared to ours – they just need to sit in school most of the day -, all translates to an endless to-do list, a never-ending administrative loop that they have no idea even exists.  

While I was typing this, another parent just asked where the bus is, five minutes after the first panicked dad mentioned that no worries, the bus had just pulled up at the stop – which of course it always does.  We are now at the stage of the afternoon where screenshots of the Department of Education’ school bus tracking app are being posted on the WhatsApp group, in case the children’s own tracking devices were not sufficient. In case you don’t know, the DOE’s app is a nightmare to use and I, for one, never made it past the first two required steps to get into the system and access our school’s bus route. People who managed to figure it out and have the stamina to navigate the app both impress and scare me.   

So, there you go. Another afternoon spent on little things, when I was supposed to focus and work really, really hard.

It’s such a mess in my head, you would not want to see it. From college applications to my blog, to maybe going back to teaching, to coaching, to the peel-and-stick wallpaper I’d like to try on my bedroom wall, to my daughter’s broken glasses that need replacement, and the upcoming doctor’s check-ups for all four children, to what the hell to do on Thanksgiving and my upcoming 20^th anniversary for which we have nothing planned, not to mention Christmas and whether or not to travel then, and where.Chaotic doesn’t even begin to describe it. ADHD would seem like too limited an acronym.

And yet it is the daily state of my mind.

I will delete WhatsApp from my laptop, I promise.  

In the meantime I will keep cooking, as it seems to be one of the only things that keeps me away from my devices – except for checking the recipe obviously, but between watching over a pot and supervising my boys’ homework, I rarely have the time to fall into a shopping or politics rabbit hole when I am manning the stove.           

It's all about the small victories.          

And my children all raved about this pasta dish last night.

I thought about it because my 7-year-old devoured the mushroom risotto my dear friend Marianne made for us last week. She is the best home cook and chef I know.

As far as I’m concerned, I rued the decision to make caramelized onions after getting home at 6:30 pm last night (no it will not take you just 30 minutes to have perfectly caramelized onions), and we did eat very late. My 9-year-old turned into an evening monster as a result, and I personally was not capable to enjoy what I was eating.

But everyone else was happy. And in the world we live in, that is something.  

Again, small victories.

Farfalle Pasta with Spinach, Mushrooms, and Caramelized Onions

From Julia’s Album

For 4 servings (I used one and a half boxes of farfalle for all six of us and doubled everything here. I usually use two boxes/pounds. Yes, that is how much we eat.)

Ingredients

Caramelized onions

• 1 tablespoon olive oil

• 3 large yellow onions, sliced

• ¼ teaspoon salt

• 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

• 
  

Creamy pasta sauce

• 1 tablespoon olive oil

• 10 oz (about 300 grams) mushrooms, sliced (I used porcini mushrooms)

• 6 oz (about 180 grams) spinach

• 1 cup half-and-half

• 1 cup Parmesan cheese, shredded

• ¼ teaspoon salt

  
  

Pasta

• 8 oz (250 grams) farfalle pasta

  
  

Instructions

How to caramelize onions:

1.              Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil on medium-high heat in a large skillet. Add sliced onions and cook on high heat for about 10 minutes, constantly stirring with the spatula.

2.              The onions should start to brown, but without burning.

3.              Reduce heat to medium and continue cooking onions for 10 more minutes, continuing to stir, as onions brown even more without burning. At this point add a pinch of salt over onions.

4.              Continue cooking for 10 more minutes on medium or low heat, stirring occasionally to make sure onions don’t stick to the bottom of the pan or burn.

5.              In total, you should have cooked onions for 30 minutes.

6.              Remove the skillet from heat and sprinkle the onions with a small amount of balsamic vinegar to deglaze the pan.

7.              Using a spatula, stir the onions, scraping the bottom of the pan and coating onions with a pinch of balsamic vinegar you just added. Remove caramelized onions to a plate.

How to cook mushrooms and spinach:

1.              Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in the same skillet on medium heat. Add sliced mushrooms. Sprinkle with a pinch of salt.

2.              Cook mushrooms for about 5 minutes, occasionally stirring, until mushrooms are soft.

3.              Add fresh spinach to the skillet and stir on low heat just until spinach starts to wilt.

How to make creamy pasta sauce:

1.              Add half-and-half to the mushroom and spinach mixture and bring to a quick boil. Immediately reduce to simmer.

2.              Add ⅔ cup of shredded Parmesan cheese and ¼ teaspoon salt. Keep stirring while the sauce simmers until the cheese melts.

3.              Add caramelized onions back to the skillet with the pasta sauce.

Cook pasta:

1.              Cook pasta according to package instructions. Drain.

2.              Add cooked and drained farfalle pasta to the creamy sauce. Stir on low heat for a couple of minutes to reheat.

3.              If the sauce is too thick, add a small amount of half-and-half to thin it out. If it is too thin, add a small amount of shredded Parmesan cheese, and stir it in, while the sauce simmers.

4.              Serve with more shredded parmesan cheese sprinkled on top.

Notes

Substitute for half-and-half:  Use ½ cup of heavy cream + ½ cup of milk instead of 1 cup of half-and-half.