My not-so-little brothers have a friend who works in a coffee shop in Munich. He's not spending a year there to find himself, he's from there, so feel free to believe what I say next. He described the history of coffee in 3 waves. The first wave is like post-partum cave women eating raw beans. Second wave is Starbucks. Third wave is "a movement to produce high-quality coffee, and consider coffee as an artisanal foodstuff, like wine, rather than a commodity." The "rather than a commodity" part is my favorite, it makes me laugh.
I have been thinking a little bit about motherhood and a little bit about coffee, and it really crystallized for me when I realized that I'm no longer in the mom-phase of loving Starbucks. Not because I'm better than Starbucks, I just don't need it like I used it, and now I recognize love-of-Starbucks as its own phase of motherhood, especially as I see others loving it. Far be it from me to begrudge them this love. The Starbucks phase isn't about how Starbucks tastes, although they really rope me in with that caramel drizzle. It's not about discovering that "artisanal" coffee tastes better, or even that you can just make decent coffee at home and bring it with you in a thermos in the morning and ice the leftovers in the afternoon for the same amount as one single grande caramel macchiato (with coconut milk, if you're nursing a sensitive baby). The Starbucks phase is about sanity. Not in a jokesy mom-meme kind of way, but like actually staying alive as an adult human being. Starbucks is about having something between your paws that children aren't allowed to share. It's about spending $5 on something you shouldn't, and that making you feel like a real American. It's about identifying with a club of women who are suffering under impossible social pressures and who just can't seem to make their children's lives as magical as they should be.
A grim narrator surveys the line of minivans in the drive-thru and says, after a pregnant pause, "but coffee was very much still a commodity."
If you're in the Starbucks phase, hang on, Mother. It gets better.
This week my boys, now 4 and 5, were both in school at the same time for the first time in human history. Incidentally, I was awarded my bachelor's degree yesterday. I've already been turned down for 2.5 jobs, like a real member of society. We are officially in a new phase of life. I guess it melted away slowly, but I realized recently that it's been a minute since I was really drowning in parenthood. I still break up approximately 17 street (er, young children) fights a day, but DARE I SAY we might be hitting our stride here. I am not miserable all the time. I am not depleted beyond my brain's tiny capacity for hope. I like spending time with my kids, and I don't worry about the time I don't spend with them as much. My kindergartner loves riding the school bus by himself and enthusiastically waves goodbye to me. Everything is so bearable in the parenting department that I've moved on to stressing about other family members. Third wave, I'm telling you.
I'll just be here enjoying my cheap home made coffee until the Lord blasts me back to Starbucks for being so cocky.
I have been thinking a little bit about motherhood and a little bit about coffee, and it really crystallized for me when I realized that I'm no longer in the mom-phase of loving Starbucks. Not because I'm better than Starbucks, I just don't need it like I used it, and now I recognize love-of-Starbucks as its own phase of motherhood, especially as I see others loving it. Far be it from me to begrudge them this love. The Starbucks phase isn't about how Starbucks tastes, although they really rope me in with that caramel drizzle. It's not about discovering that "artisanal" coffee tastes better, or even that you can just make decent coffee at home and bring it with you in a thermos in the morning and ice the leftovers in the afternoon for the same amount as one single grande caramel macchiato (with coconut milk, if you're nursing a sensitive baby). The Starbucks phase is about sanity. Not in a jokesy mom-meme kind of way, but like actually staying alive as an adult human being. Starbucks is about having something between your paws that children aren't allowed to share. It's about spending $5 on something you shouldn't, and that making you feel like a real American. It's about identifying with a club of women who are suffering under impossible social pressures and who just can't seem to make their children's lives as magical as they should be.
A grim narrator surveys the line of minivans in the drive-thru and says, after a pregnant pause, "but coffee was very much still a commodity."
If you're in the Starbucks phase, hang on, Mother. It gets better.
This week my boys, now 4 and 5, were both in school at the same time for the first time in human history. Incidentally, I was awarded my bachelor's degree yesterday. I've already been turned down for 2.5 jobs, like a real member of society. We are officially in a new phase of life. I guess it melted away slowly, but I realized recently that it's been a minute since I was really drowning in parenthood. I still break up approximately 17 street (er, young children) fights a day, but DARE I SAY we might be hitting our stride here. I am not miserable all the time. I am not depleted beyond my brain's tiny capacity for hope. I like spending time with my kids, and I don't worry about the time I don't spend with them as much. My kindergartner loves riding the school bus by himself and enthusiastically waves goodbye to me. Everything is so bearable in the parenting department that I've moved on to stressing about other family members. Third wave, I'm telling you.
I'll just be here enjoying my cheap home made coffee until the Lord blasts me back to Starbucks for being so cocky.
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