Day Three Hundred Sixty-Five

And there it is. Day three hundred sixty-five. I started titling blog posts with the number of days since the world shut down perhaps a bit later than some other people started counting the shut down. First came the WHO's declaration that it was a global pandemic. The following Friday, Pennsylvania schools were shut down. An hour later, my office announced we'd be switching to remote "for the next two weeks." But, I didn't start counting then. Partly I didn't start because some things about life stayed exactly the same.

For example, even though all things school-related were stopped, high school cheerleading tryouts still continued. In retrospect, that was a sign. The organization has continued to fail to respect the community impact of their actions, all the way up to an awards banquet a few weeks ago with 75+ unmasked cheerleaders and parents crammed into a hotel banquet space. Maybe nothing bad will happen, but every time people refuse to stay apart, all I can think about is the potential impact on the people who are trying.

The 500,000+ who have died aren't necessarily the ones who went to banquets and sat at a table with a mom from another neighborhood. Many of them were doing what they could to care for their community, but those who didn't caused the spread.

ANYWAY, in the very early days, I don't think any of us really understood what we were up against. I certainly didn't. We spent the weekend after the world closed rushing around to prepare for the world to be closed. There was even a trip to Five Below to get a bunch of crafting supplies because I had no idea how I would keep Mila entertained while I worked from home for two whole weeks.

HAHAHAHAHALOLOLOLZZZZ. 52 weeks later, I can say it's not that hard. She's actually pretty good about entertaining herself, though she is bound to interrupt a meeting or two here and there.

So we did a lot of running around early on, but then we locked down. And locked down. And locked down. Somewhere along the way we loosened up slightly. I can honestly say this has been the hardest year ever for choices. Everything is a choice, everything is a risk, everything is about balancing risk with reward. Should Alexis attend dance classes at the studio, with proper social distancing and masks in place, or is it better that she attend via Zoom? Should the girls be in school? Is it okay for Mila to participate in soccer? What if they're not wearing masks while they play? What if the parents gather in a small huddle, unmasked, to chat?

So many points of conflict. So many choices.

So much "No."

I have never, ever said "No" as much as I have this year. The wild thing is that it doesn't seem to bother the girls as much as it does me. Sometimes Alexis almost seems relieved when I intervene and declare that she cannot/will not be doing something. Mila is firmly on the side of thinking it just makes sense to keep everyone safe, so of course she's totally cool with not seeing all of her friends. She'll see them soon enough, if not sooner via Zoom.

I wish all of us parents had been on the same page this year. The fact that they weren't created so many of those uncomfortable "No" moments. That said, I know we're all doing the best we can to mitigate risks and manage expectations and keep our kids safe. It hasn't been fun in any way, shape, or form, but little windows of it have been good.

Like, I now know that the neighbors with kids close to Mila's age are most excellent people. I've been able to let Mila play outside with the girls because we have mutual agreement that the kids have to stay outside and ... they just wear masks. The adults don't have to remind them, by the way. They just do it because they don't want to get each other sick. It's such a simple silent agreement, but so valuable. And I'm hugely grateful for parents who have addressed things in a way similar to us - let's just be cautious so we don't get each other sick.

And then there's the others who haven't. Besides saying "No" entirely too much, that's been the hardest thing. This has been the year of finding out who may seem to be a good person, but at the end of the day is only concerned with themselves. Letting teens go out to dinner in groups, hosting parties, having large gatherings of adults, going out in public even as someone at their house is waiting out a positive COVID test ... so much of it has happened. So much of it has proven just how selfish some people can be.

And that's going to be the thing that's hard to forget. There is a definite division in my world and it's a division between people who truly want the best for everyone around them and those who have proven they don't care. That is the thing that is going to stick.

Day Three Hundred Sixty-Four

Look at this face. LOOK AT THIS SWEET FACE.

DO NOT BE FOOLED BY THE SWEET.

Mila is a Gremlin. I've said it before. I'll say it again. It is absolutely, positively true. She's sweet and cuddly during some hours of the day, but don't feed her chicken after midnight because OMG.

Except, instead of feeding her chicken, that kid's monster trigger is the time change.

You would think that by six years of age, she'd have it together. Or maybe you want to consider that the child still has no concept of time. Why would the time of day bother her? I HAVE NO IDEA. But it does. No matter how much I prepare her by slowly transitioning her days earlier/later depending on which side of the Daylight Saving stupidity we're on, the kid is still a mess. I've tried ignoring it. I've tried explaining it. I've tried reasoning with the little creature.

None of it matters.

At exactly 2:37 am this morning, Mila was very VERY awake. And she wanted to argue. Normally she is pretty good about sleeping through the night (the universe owed me that much after Alexis), but this time she was all, "It's not time to be asleep" and I was all, "The hell it isn't," and she was all, "You moved the clocks, woman. All bets are off."

We legitimately argued about whether or not it was time to be asleep for an hour. AN HOUR. IT was dark the entire time so it should have been a simple disagreement but it wasn't because that child has an internal clock and that internal clock pukes up stupid if it's messed with in any way. It doesn't matter that 2:37 equals 1:37 or 3:37 depending on what side of the whole thing you're on. Those may all be reasonable times to be asleep, but altering reality is a sin according to Mila.

I've had enough.

I really need us to give up on this time change thing. I don't care which way we keep things, but can we keep them? Please? I need very badly to not be fighting with an unreasonable Gremlin in the middle of the night.

Day Three Hundred Sixty-Three

Saturday morning I woke up with a mission in mind: Something green and sweet needed to appear in my kitchen.

Mission Accomplished. Sort of.

Lime Cheesecake Tarts.

I wanted to have a little St. Patrick's Day fun, but I decided to veer from the predictable mint path and go straight for some light and fluffy lime fun. These little cheesecakes are delicate and subtle. They aren't super sweet, nor are they really sour. They are PERFECTION because they are like eating little lime clouds.

Oh, and they are super easy, too.

You start with a package of cream cheese, 3/4 cup of sugar, the juice from two limes, and the zest from two limes.

And don't try to tell me that you don't know what "zest" is. It's the peel from the lime. Just scrape the green off of a lime with a grater and you'll be all set.

Don't have a grater? You should. They are something like $2 at IKEA. (Make your own laundry soap and you'll have paid for that grater in less than a week.)

Take a mixer to the cream cheese, sugar, lime juice, and lime zest until it's smooth and creamy. It takes about two minutes.

In a separate bowl, it's time to make some whip cream. You'll need 1 1/2 cups of heavy cream and a mixer.

At first the cream will make bubbles, but if you keep beating it...

...it'll get thicker...

...and thicker...

And thicker. See those lines in the cream? That's where it's starting to hold it's shape. Your heavy cream has turned into whip cream when you can make little peaks in it and they don't fall over.

It won't drip from your mixer either.

Once your whip cream is all done, you'll add it little by little to the cream cheese mixture, gently stirring until it's completely blended. You'll be left with an amazing no bake lime cheesecake filling that you can use with any sort of crust.

I took the easy route.

You can find Mini Fillo Shells in the frozen section of your grocery store next to the pie crusts. You could also use a graham cracker crust or a standard pie crust. It's all good.

Especially if you garnish it with a little bit more lime zest.

Lime Cheesecake Tarts

3 packages frozen mini fillo shells (or one pie crust--graham or regular)
1 package cream cheese (I have used reduced fat cream cheese and the recipe turns out just fine)
3/4 cup sugar
Juice from 2 limes
Zest from 2 limes
1 1/2 cups heavy cream

1. Take the Fillo Shells out of the package. Ta-dah! You're done preparing the crusts!

2. In a medium mixing bowl, combine the cream cheese, sugar, lime juice, and lime zest with a mixer on low speed until smooth (about two minutes).

3. In a separate large bowl, beat the heavy cream with a mixer at high speed until peaks begin to form.

4. Add the cream cheese mixture to the whip cream little by little, gently stirring to combine the two.

5. Spoon the lime cheesecake filling into your pie crust or Fillo Shells.

6. Garnish with a bit of lime zest.

7. Refrigerate for 10-15 minutes before eating.

8. Try not to eat all of it at once. (I may have failed at this step. It's possible.)