If boys aren’t playing video games or eating, they’re up in your face. Hashtag not all boys. Fine. But I’m always trying to dream up quiet, sedentary, non-screen activities that my sons will do independently. A way for us to be around each other, but not actively engage. Or speak. Maybe that sounds awful. But winter is long. And my apartment is small. On a rare occasion I’ll catch us accidentally settling into a peaceful vision: my youngest drawing, eldest reading and me doing a puzzle. It feels like a scene from a Renaissance painting. Why can’t this be our life? I’ll wonder. And it lasts about as long as it takes me to ask.

I’ve always envied people who clearly have a simpler relationship to alcohol than I do. Who can casually encounter a drink, with take it or leave it flair. They always seem like elegant self-negating heroes to me. But, of course, they’re not. New weight loss drugs, like Ozempic, are fascinatingly confirming that some people deal with a lot more food noise than others which makes resisting over-eating a more complicated, challenging and draining experience. But one that has been stigmatized as a sad reflection of character. People who seem to come up with better answers in life, are usually having a very different experience of the questions.

I’m not totally sure we just had Easter weekend. I mean, I know I had two extra days off, making it a long weekend with my children, but because I’m not religious, I’m not really sure what Easter is supposed to mean. As far as I can tell, much like Halloween, it’s basically about candy. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but parenting can give you this vague sense that holidays are supposed to be more substantial or meaningful than just temporarily suspending sugar restrictions. And my confusion reminded me that, like biting into that cheap Easter bunny, events that get built up, can often feel pretty hollow.