My favorite part is when the kefir grains ride the bubbles to the top like they’re surfing a wave. These little gelatinous globules, living happily on my kitchen counter, are beyond pleased with the lack of chlorination in the water and their quarter-cup sugar feast. Their satisfaction makes me beyond pleased too. I’ve doubled my grains—or at least, I think I have. Maybe my proud parent bias is clouding my judgment, and they’ve only grown a little.
From what I’ve read, kefir grains do reproduce and grow. At my last feeding—which happens every 48 hours—I broke up the mini cauliflower-like grains into individual pieces because, according to the internet, smaller grains grow faster.
For some reason, I used to think eating kefir grains directly might be toxic, but they’re not. Up next: blending them into a strawberry-mango smoothie.
Meanwhile, Evelyn’s room got an “all hands on deck” organization effort today. (And shh, don’t tell her, but we also disposed of some toys.) Her Paw Patrol, dinosaur, Barbie, Octonaut, car, and marble collections are now neatly sorted into bins under her bench window seat. Once the floor was clear, she surprised us by inviting everyone—Dave and me included—to a dance party.
Not long after, the lights were off in her room, leaving only the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling and walls and the white unicorns on her blanket to illuminate the space. At Evelyn’s insistence, the dance party morphed into a costume party. She graciously outfitted us with crowns, weapons, and glow-in-the-dark monster teeth from her drawer.
Her Google speaker filled the room with music. If you ever get a chance to listen to her playlist, it’s worth it—most of the songs are excellent, save for the Super Kitties and Paw Patrol theme songs. Anytime she hears and likes a song Dave or I play, she’ll exclaim, “Playlist!” and we’ll add it to her account.
After Dave left for a meeting, Evelyn and I tackled the nightly routine as a duo. Teeth brushing, book reading, and tucking her into bed were smooth enough. Then I retreated to the office to finish a couple of progress notes, following through on the more focused, quality-time goal I set in yesterday’s post.
Halfway through my second note, Evelyn slinked into the room and perched on the arm of the couch. “I’m hung—I mean, scared,” she said. After a short discussion, I encouraged her to head back to bed. But every step she took toward the door was followed by a worried glance back at me, a dramatic little shake, and the claim that the darkness coming from my bedroom across the hall was too scary. She did this forward-backward dance about six times, trying to muster courage and failing.
Not wanting to get up, I told her I’d blow a kiss to race her back to her room. “You’re on!” she said.
And I haven’t heard from her since.
Holy cow, it’s 9:17 p.m., and I have my blog written, progress notes done, shower taken, and I’m already cuddled up in bed. Maybe I’ll spend the next 43 minutes on my AI Spanish conversation app before diving into Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times, a lovely birthday gift from Joanne that arrived by mail last week.
As for TikTok, I needed to start weaning myself off it. T-minus six days until it’s banned. I did toy with the idea of overindulging in every last drop of media, but I’m trying to be better. So I won’t and I’m not.
Thanks for dropping by!
Love,
Jaclynn
Going On 40 