Holiday purchase at Costco this season: Meyer’s Limited Edition Holiday Soap!

On Sunday on our way back home from Albany, we stopped at Costco for our second time this year to stock up on household staples and produce. We picked up olive oil, avocado oil, a large jar of sun-dried tomatoes, toilet paper (of course), facial tissue, and a decent amount of fruit and vegetables. As for seasonal things we got, Chris got 1.5 pounds of peppermint bark, and I picked up… Meyer’s Limited Edition set of hand soaps, in four different holiday scents: pine, peppermint, snowdrop (who knows what this smells like, but I’ll take a chance on it!), and gingerbread.

I was telling my friend over dinner about this purchase. I said that this is how you know you’re really an adult and care about things that matter: you go to Costco and are inundated by all the holiday/Christmas seasonal items, from house decor to treats, and the one thing you “indulge” on is a bunch of holiday-scented liquid hand soap. Ten years ago, if someone gave me soap or toilet paper, I’d wonder what the hell kind of “gift” it was. Now, assuming it’s high quality, I’d think, ‘Wow, that’s so thoughtful (and practical) of you to think of getting that for me!’

So, here I am, admitting that what my mom says is true: with age comes wisdom, and wisdom says that Meyer’s holiday soap is a good and practical thing to buy at Costco as we approach the holidays.

Signs of getting older: not being able to easily thread a needle

When I was young, my mom would ask me to help thread a needle whenever she was mending clothes. All clothes get worn, of course, but with the occasional hole or button that would come out, she was always quick to fix these for herself and for us. Even after I moved out for college and then work, whenever I’d be back home and she’d need to do a small sewing job, she’d ask me to thread the needle. “My eyes can’t see it as well as yours; you have good young eyes,” she’d say.

I always did it easily and on the first try. I never had any difficulty doing it, and that’s also why she needed my help. If she did it herself, she said, she’d be sitting there for ten minutes or more just trying to get the tiny thread into the tiny hole. We didn’t have needle threaders at home to help us, so we just had our bare fingers and eyes to do the work.

In the last month or so, Chris has had a couple of holes that have popped up in his pants, and he’d ask me to fix them. So I’d do it, but it suddenly hit me that it wasn’t as fast or easy to thread the needle anymore. Even though I am slightly near-sighted, as in I have trouble seeing long distances, I suddenly realized that seeing this closely was becoming a small challenge. The first time, it took me five tries to thread the needle with my naked eye. The second time today was even worse: I tried at least ten times before I got it through. Part of it was because the thread’s end was ragged and limp, but the other part was that I just couldn’t see the hole properly and align it with the end of the thread. And so after I finished the sewing job, I went digging in my sewing kit and luckily found two needle threaders (which I likely procured from snatching the sewing kits from high end hotels; it’s the little things in life!). I quickly learned how to use them, and I decided that from now on whenever I have to sew, I will just reach for them first and not waste any time. There’s no reason to make anything harder for myself than it needs to be, and I just have to face the fact that while I am getting older, so are my eyes.

A growing awareness of mortality

I’m almost done reading the book I am currently on, Matrescence. While I am not totally sure I would recommend the book, as it does tend to get on a number of tangents that are hard to follow at times, and it seems a bit like rambling at others as opposed to cohesively strung together thoughts, it does bring up a number of thoughts I’ve had about becoming a mother and about life in general. One thought that I was ruminating on after Kaia was born was that becoming a parent really does force you to think about your own mortality quite a bit. As a parent, you bring life into the world with the awareness that your goal, as ironic as it may be, is to raise that tiny blob into an independent adult who will one day not need you. And at some point, assuming all goes well and nothing tragic happens, is that that adult will one day live in a world without you in it; your child will outlive you, and you will die before they will. They will die after you (hopefully…. please). So becoming a parent makes you even more painfully cognizant of the fact that you will one day die, that your life on this earth is finite. It will come to an end. And so with that thought and fact is another thought: how are you going to make this life and all the moments that make it up worth it?

But that’s also another reason that it’s important for us as parents to have passions outside of our children, as all-consuming as parenting can be. One day, soon enough, Kaia will not want to spend that much time with us, and we should not expect her to fulfill all our needs and spend all her free time with us. I think that’s something that’s lost amongst many parents of our parents generation… like my own mom. In my early twenties, my mom used to get angry if she knew I was taking time off work to do anything other than go home and spend time with her. She used to call me selfish and threaten to make me pay her back for my college tuition (oftentimes used as a threat, as always). She said that all my vacation time should be spent with her. When I’d come home and spend time with friends, she would get angry and say that it wasn’t necessary and that I should be with her (you know, at home doing nothing). And at that time, I could not coherently verbalize why I thought that was wrong. But now, it makes perfect sense to me why all that talk did not sit well with me. As a parent, you are not just a parent. You are (potentially) a spouse, a sibling, a friend, a colleague, a citizen of the world. You also play other roles. And as your kids grow up, spread their wings, and fly away, you should also grow up and get back in contact with your own self and what you like to do and spend time on.

Matrescence: On Pregnancy, Childbirth, and Motherhood

I recently started reading a book called Matrescence: On Pregnancy, Childbirth, and Motherhood, written by Lucy Jones. The term “matrescence” still doesn’t seem to be recognized by the dictionary in the year 2024, which is quite sad and pathetic considering time has evolved. Matrescence refers to the state of a person becoming a mother and all that this transition entails. I first heard of the term in a news article my friend linked to me, which I think was in NPR, about matrescence and how it doesn’t get nearly as much research, news coverage, or talk as it should. My friend sent this to me as she was sharing with me how much her body and her mind had changed after giving birth. She said it was hard to describe, but the way she thought about things and saw the world was completely different. She expected it to be different after becoming a mother, but she wasn’t prepared for exactly how different her perspective would be in her postpartum state.

A lot happens to a person when they become a mother, both mentally and physically, yet somehow, we’re all expected to just “bounce back” in every sense of the word after giving birth. Children do not give birth to themselves; mothers give birth to them, and that’s a very wild and intense ride, and for some women, can even be traumatic. To this day, the 25 hours I spent in labor from beginning to end was the most intense 25 hours of my entire freaking life; I doubt anything will ever top that – physically, mentally, emotionally. IT WAS BEYOND INTENSE. It is said that it takes somewhere between two to four years for a woman to feel like “herself” again after giving birth. Unfortunately, in the U.S., you’re meant to go back to work the next week, in six weeks, and if you’re “lucky” like me, in the next 16-20 weeks. So who cares if you are “yourself” again!

A lot has resonated with me as I am going through this book, but what I wasn’t expecting was this excerpt near the beginning:

“During pregnancy, cells are exchanged between the mother and fetus in the placenta. When the baby is born, some of those cells remain intact in the mother’s body. For decades. Perhaps forever. The phenomenon is called microchimerism. The exchange creates what the leading geneticist Dr. Diana Bianchi calls “a permanent connection which contributes to the survival of both individuals.

“Cells have been found in subsequent siblings, too. If you have a younger brother or sister, they may have your cells.”

I figured that something would likely be left behind from my baby after giving birth, especially given the role the placenta plays and how that also needs to be birthed out of you, but I didn’t realize that my baby’s cells could stay in me potentially forever. Nor did I ever think that any subsequent siblings would have their older siblings’ cells in them. But that then made me stop and think: Wow. That means that I physically have some of Ed’s cells in me. He actually is a part of me, and in more ways than I had previously thought or known. I always knew that a part of Kaia would be in me, and I’d obviously be in her, but Ed’s in me? But it gave me this sense of joy and warmth, as strange as it sounds. He may no longer be living, but he physically is still living on in me, through cells that I got from him through our mother.

I think it goes without saying that I am definitely enjoying this book.

The dramatic bursts of aging at ages 44 and 60

In the last several weeks, the study that cites that human beings age dramatically at 44, then at 60, has been making the rounds. My friend sent me this article a few weeks ago. He’s 46 now, but he told me that he really felt it at age 44 two years ago, right around the time that his now 2-year-old daughter was born. He said he thought that it was just because of being a new dad and having a newborn, which meant worse sleep and higher fatigue, but this study said everything to him.

“Get ready for it,” he’s warned me. He said he’s already been warning his wife, who turns 44 next year, about this change.

But I take his “warning” with a grain of salt since he’s not the healthiest person in both diet or movement. He only had maybe a one-year period (during the pandemic) when he actively worked out (swimming three times a week) and ate more mindfully.

The truth is that none of this news really bothers me. While we are younger and healthy, we can adjust our lifestyles to be more healthy and active. The best thing any of us can do is prevention and health maintenance in the here and now. That means exercising regularly, eating relatively healthy, and trying our best to get adequate sleep. On top of that, it means getting routine health checks, dental cleanings, and all the other riveting “health maintenance” activities we’re supposed to be doing to take care of our bodies. As the Peter Attia Outlive book says, if there’s one thing we can do to increase our longevity, it’s to move and be active; exercise! Even if genetics or luck play a role in all this, exercise can never, ever hurt. I always feel different during the day if I haven’t exercised in the morning. My mind feels less alert, and my body just feels more sluggish without morning exercise.

All of us are aging. There is no doubt about that, and there is no way to prevent that. As the last couple years have gone on, I’ve noticed more expression lines on my face, more sun spots (the bane of my current existence), and less elasticity of my skin overall. I suppose all these are signs of “maturing.” The number of white hairs on my head has also multiplied. I’ve just accepted it as part of life’s progression. I’ve tried to do things like re-apply sunblock more, obsessively put on a hat to cover my face, and seek shade when possible during sunny days. When having my highlights redone, I’ll ask my hair stylist to color my whites. But really, no one wants to stay stuck in time forever. No one wants to be a single age forever. So in the meantime, I’ll do my best to eat more fresh food and whole grains, exercise rigorously and regularly, stretch, sleep adequately, and not worry about what is out of my control.