Happy Hour Hack: Tots vs. teens, a poem, and a cocktail
The Jessica Hische edition
Welcome to Happy Hour Hack! Each Friday, I share a tip from my interviewee of the week, along with any ideas or inspiration I receive from readers, plus some things that are piquing my own interest.
First, I want to thank you all for being here. This is TCF’s premiere week, and the warm reception has been truly wonderful. Thank you! Now, let’s get into it…
Hack
This week’s tip comes from lettering artist and children’s book author Jessica Hische, who basically says not to take yourself so seriously, especially during those early baby years:
“One thing I learned when I moved to California from New York is that you can literally evaporate from the Earth for two or three years, and no one will notice. People will just assume you’re busy. I would get phone calls from people being like, ‘Hey Jess, what are you doing? I’m outside your studio. Do you want to get lunch?’ And I’m like, ‘I haven’t lived in New York for years.’
“So you don’t need to freak out if you have to downsize for a few years. There are some careers where that would have a really big impact, but I also think that a lot of industries are more aware of that now and trying to figure out how to onboard people for taking that time. But I think if it’s two or three years, you really just don’t have to worry about it.”
You can read the rest of Jess’s thoughts on balancing work with hormones, stopping work at 5, and the importance of passive income here.
From the Forum
I received a really insightful response to Jess’s post from one of our readers, Kearsley Higgins. Kearsley is one of the smartest people I’ve ever had the privilege of clinking glasses with, and she made some interesting points from the perspective of a parent with older kids (hers are 15 and 11).
In case you missed it, Jess points out that parenting is the most intense from birth until about age 5, and then it eases up. So the solution is to just white-knuckle it through those years and then you’ll be okay. Right? Right?! That’s what I thought. And then Kearsley happened:
“I think it’s interesting how Jess framed the time as ‘only five years.’ I do think that’s true to a certain extent as kids in elementary school put much less strain on the caregiver. One note that I will say as we get into the older ages with the kids is that the early days of kids seem easy emotionally to the later problems for kids as they get into the teen years. We are finding the more complex work of older kids to be taxing in a whole new set of ways. It feels heavy again.”
And then Kearsley shared an anecdote that shook me to my core.
“I feel like I’ve moved into the next level of parenting and all the younger parenting stuff feels sweet and cute, and now it’s much more about psychology, etc. A friend of mine was talking about how her kid was being a giant asshole, and I said that she should take his phone. She said, ‘Kearsley, I can’t just take his phone anymore. He’s stronger than me. I’m embarrassed to say this, but I don’t know what to do if he won’t give it to me.’ These are the weird new realities, and they make a 2-year-old tantrum seem so simple.”
So I guess the takeaway is that when times are feeling easier, take full advantage and get shit done. What ages do you all feel are harder or easier? Have there been stages when you’ve been able to create more than others?
Poem
There is so much about Jess’s story that exemplifies the ideals. She has created a successful career for herself that also equates to financial stability. She’s able to spend time with her kids. She has the energy and skills and background to be a loving, healthy presence. And, as Kearsley pointed out, her kids are not teenagers yet. But I think it’s also helpful to be reminded that people love in different ways and have different capabilities for showing it. Which is what this poem by Robert Hayden is about. It’s haunted me for the past two decades, ever since I first came across it, and I think of it every winter when I’m feeling grateful for the warm home I have for my children or when I’m enjoying our fire, which we build and light as much for ambience as warmth. I’m planning to share this with my children on Sunday.
Robert Hayden
Those Winter Sundays
Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?
Cocktail
And, finally, I want to end our first Happy Hour Hack with something to actually kick off your evening: a low-proof cocktail called the Adonis. This is a classy drink that’s easy to make and isn’t much stronger than a glass of wine.
Back in my bartending days, pre-kids, I would sip on an Adonis in a coffee mug during the start of my shift. That time in the evening is, I now realize, very similar to the witching hour. Five o’clock is not when human beings are at their best. Bar customers would stumble in, struggling to get out of work mode and mood. They’d be unreasonably grumpy, impatient to get my attention, but then when they had it, they wouldn’t know what they wanted. Nothing would be quite right! But if I’d dare to turn away at that point, all hell would break loose. (Sound familiar? Is this what evenings can be like in your home?) It’s tiring, it’s stressful, it’s annoying. So I would sip from my coffee mug, and it would give me the nudge I needed to keep smiling while still having my full wits about me in case shit went down. So, whether you’re dealing with cranky adults or children, this is a nice little something to help keep things positive in your household.
The Adonis
2 oz amontillado sherry (Lustau is good)
1 oz sweet vermouth (I like Dolin)
A few dashes orange bitters (like Regan’s)
Stir on ice and strain into a glass. Or coffee mug. If you have the energy, peel a swath of orange or lemon and squeeze the zest over the top of the cocktail. Depending on the age of your kid, give them the leftover peel to suck on.
*Pro tip: Keep both your vermouth and sherry in the fridge. Their ABVs are too low to store them on a shelf.
**It’s also delightful to sip the sherry on its own, especially if you have a cute little glass for it. It makes chopping vegetables a treat.
Have an opinion on the early years? On the teen years? Let us know. Even better, drink one too many Adonises and then let us know.
So glad you appreciated the poem! Unopened vermouth can be on a shelf, just like wine. But once it's open, pop it in the fridge.
That poem gutted me (in a good way). Also, wait vermouth goes in the fridge?? Even unopened?