The Wolvog went driving with Josh while ChickieNob and I went on an indoor walk in Helsinki. Afterward, he texted me a photo of the Wolvog filling my car with gasoline as proof that he had taken care of a task I asked him to do before he went out. Nothing more than shorthand for “check this off the to-do list.”

But that photo. The Wolvog’s hair tucked under a baseball cap; wild curls peeking out from a lack of haircut. Jeans and old t-shirt, half-smiling at the camera, proud of his self-sufficiency. So much taller than the roof of the car.

When I started this blog, the twins were about to turn two. We were transitioning from bottles.

Now they are teens, driving cars and having opinions and running errands. We don’t have kids anymore. We have young adults.

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I asked the Wolvog if I could write a post about the image. “Sure. But why?” It was bittersweet, I told him, and he asked me why again.

Because until you pay attention to someone aging, you don’t realize the weight of aging. When you’re aging yourself as a child or teen, you can’t see it. But when you hit adulthood and begin noticing it in others, aging stands out and you start seeing it everywhere: in the older generation, in the younger generation, in yourself. I am thrilled that the Wolvog is growing; I love the teen years. But it is bittersweet to see time passing.

Early on in the pandemic, I decided that it would be a very good idea to cut my own hair. I should probably start by noting that I have no haircutting skills, and my hair is very long. I cut my hair dry; a little bit each day. I would pull it over my shoulder and trim the bottom of the curls. And little by little, my hair turned into a hot mess.

Every curl was a different length. And one side was much shorter than the other.

It has grown out and mostly looks even-ish if you don’t look too closely. Now you will because I told you that it’s uneven, but no one has commented on it in a long time.

This week, I had a dream that Josh cut my hair and he did an amazing job. We found a YouTube video that said the problem with curly hair is that if you cut it straight across—horizontally—it curls up at different lengths. If you cut it on the bias—diagonally—it magically becomes even. This made perfect sense in the dream world. Josh held the scissors at an angle and chopped away, and he gave me a perfectly even cut.

Josh doesn’t think it’s a good idea to test out the dreamworld ideas in the real world. But… I don’t know… I’m thinking otherwise.

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Stop procrastinating. Go make your backups. Don’t have regrets.

Seriously. Stop what you’re doing for a moment. It will take you fifteen minutes, tops. But you will have peace of mind for days and days. It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments in order to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

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And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week. In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “Relentless Renewal” (Grief Is the Word)
• “My 6th Survivor Anniversary” (Infertile Phoenix)
• “The One Where Emily Hates the Term ‘Oriental’” (Apron Strings for Emily)
• “Without Words” (Stirrup Queens)—thank you, Jess!
• “Does Pregnancy Loss/Infertility Belong on Your Resume?” (The Road Less Travelled)

Okay, now my choices this week.

The Road Less Travelled asks an interesting question: does infertility or loss belong on a resume? Should we have a major life events section to explain possible gaps or point out life skills we’ve picked up outside the workplace? Or, as Justine says in the comments, “It would be great to normalize gaps, without making people have to explain them … why not judge what’s on the resume, rather than what’s missing?” Go give her your thoughts.

The Next 15000 Days explains how writing a blog is paying it forward, giving knowledge to infertile people who come behind you. She writes: “I may not be a mother… but I love the idea of being a big sister to someone who is in the hardest times of accepting childless life.” A great piece on why you should post today. Hint hint hint.

Lastly, Finding a Different Path has a post about photo reminders. She muses on how seeing a photo can take you back into the feeling in the moment. But she also points out: “But it’s also wonderful how the sting is so much less now that I am farther away from those raw times. Thank goodness for the hard work of healing.” Yessssssss.

The roundup to the Roundup: I think Josh could cut my hair. Your weekly backup nudge. And lots of great posts to read. So what did you find this week? Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between April 2 – 9) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week? Read the original open thread post here.

As I say every month, I’m shamelessly stealing this idea from Jessica Lahey. She has a recurring monthly date where she reviews all the books she read that month. Book reviews are important for authors, and I want to get better about doing this.

So. I’m going to review them here and also online, but I’m going to do it a little differently. I’m only going to review the stuff I really liked. I don’t see a reason to spend my time writing about something I didn’t love; it’s just using up more of my energy. So only positive reviews.

These are the books I liked (or mostly liked) from March.

The Echo Wife (Sarah Gailey): I was speechless when I finished this book. It is incredible, and it becomes even more incredible when you read the acknowledgments. It is the story of a scientist who has perfected human cloning, only to have her ex-husband create a clone of her. It is a story about our uniqueness, but it’s also (heads up) about abuse and the way it shapes us. Beyond five stars.

Klara and the Sun (Kazuo Ishiguro): Another heart-stopping, gorgeous book. I waited a year for this book, and it did not disappoint. In the near future, teenagers are gifted artificial friends, like Klara. There is a… situation… for lack of a better word, similar to how there was a situation in Never Let Me Go. You understand it by the final chapter, though it takes almost until the end of the book for the whole situation to become clear. Best to go in with no spoilers, but understand that you may feel confused. And that’s okay.

Clanlands (Sam Heughan and Graham McTavish): The ChickieNob and I bought the audiobook version and made our own Men in Kilts on the cheap while we went on indoor walks in Scotland. We tried to stick to the Highlands to match the stories from the book with the actual landscape, though we sometimes cheated and ended up virtually walking around Edinburgh or Glasgow. The audiobook is fantastic, read by the authors. While we’ll probably buy the television series when it comes out, this was an excellent alternative choice, and we learned so much about Scottish history.

Romancing Mister Bridgerton (Julia Quinn): After three prior four-star Bridgerton books, I finally hit a five-star one. I really loved this brother’s story, maybe because I like Penelope so much. I liked the slow dawning of feelings, the support of each other’s writing life, and friendships that exist intertwined with the romance. This has been my favourite one in the series so far.

The Safe Place (Anna Downes): I chose this book due to the pool on the cover, but I was glad to spend time with this creepy thriller set in southern France. Was it completely unlikely? Yes. Did I want to shout at the main character a few times, “What are you doing?” Yes. But it was a great beach read, albeit consumed in my house sans beach.

Good Neighbours (Sarah Langan): Third heart-stopping book in one month. This story was incredible. I could not put it down; especially the commentary it made on life in the suburbs and how we can convince ourselves (and each other) of things. It was a little bit Stand By Me and a little bit Stepford Wives. I burst into tears at this quote: “Your first real best friend is almost like a romance. I still miss her. Every day.”

What did you read last month?

One of my favourite newsletters—Strong Sense of Place—had a line that I loved last week. She wrote the day after (hence the “yesterday” in the quote you’ll read soon) meeting up with a friend outside after a long pandemic stay-at-home. They were careful; keeping distant and masked, but created a space in which to enjoy each other and have a pastry to boot.

She writes, “For a bit, the world felt more normal and happy and sweet than it has in a while … A year from now, I won’t remember today. But I will definitely fondly remember yesterday.”

I loved this because I don’t think I’ll remember the hard days. I mean, yes, I will remember that they existed, but I won’t feel them as keenly as I will the little victories that broke up the monotony at home. Seeing my sister and brother outside after a year without them. The day we took a long walk and got gelatis to go. Seeing my parents and uncle outside every other week to drop off groceries. A picnic with my in-laws halfway between our two houses at an Interstate rest stop. Reading by the river on the eastern shore.

We’re not there yet; we’ve made the personal decision to not change anything—even post-vaccine—until community transmission goes down. But I can keep going whenever I pause and think about how tiny, happy moments dot the landscape like wildflowers in a field.

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

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There is an Instagram account that pulls out nuggets from lesser-read Wikipedia pages. A case in point: crab mentality. Or Buffalo buffalo buffalo. (For that one, I had to go to the full Wikipedia page to understand it.)

We recently told the twins about the joy of turning to random pages in the World Book encyclopedia, but I’m not sure how well it competes against today’s Wikipedia with 6,281,779 articles. Nevermind, I looked it up. 17,000 articles in 2019.

Wikipedia has a feature to randomly send you to an article. I got Umtentweni. What did you get?

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Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts that are connected to businesses or are sponsored post.