Magazine Columns

Laundry stew

Sept. 6, 2024

Working from home one rainy Wednesday morning in late February — tying up loose ends on this magazine, writing press releases, and triaging Slack messages and emails — I realized my 9-year-old, Ewan, was all out of clean pants. 

“Let’s avert this crisis,” I thought, feeling like Super Mom as I carried his dirty laundry to the basement. 

The mildew-y odor emanating from the washer instantly reminded me: I did do laundry! On Sunday. Crap. Here we go again: Add soap, rinse, repeat.

Back upstairs, after another round of work triaging, I quickly threw some potatoes and onions in the crockpot. The plan: turn the spicy beef birria my son Fynn had made a few days prior into what I imagined would make a delicious stew. Dinner solved!

Later that day — after a meeting back at the office — my husband texted: “I hate to say this, but I don’t know if there’s anything we can do to make the stew taste any better.”

It wasn’t the birria’s fault — the tacos earlier that week were amazing — but the vinegary marinade must have permeated everything. I really should have thought about that. 

Here I was again, trying to get too many things done at the same time. (Sure, I can multitask. Am I good at it? Probably not. Is anyone?)

As usual, I’d juggled work just fine, but life got left behind. Meanwhile, I was already worried I’d forget about Ewan’s homework that night, or the parent-teacher conference we still hadn’t scheduled, or someone’s birthday, or my next tennis match. And feeling guilty about all of it.

Over the past year, I’ve been trying to find a better balance.

I’m taking breaks to walk, grab a coffee, and check in with coworkers. I’m spending time reading and throwing the football with Ewan. I’m putting away my phone.

I’m planning dinner dates with friends and weekend trips with my husband. I’m sleeping more. I’m finding joy in dressing how I feel and binge-watching shows my teenage self would have loved.

Another thing that’s helped is realizing I’m part of an incredibly supportive campus community. At the heart of it is our Spiritual Life Center — they’re here for faculty and staff as well as students. 

“In a culture that’s busy, overworked, anxious, and more, we hope to be a peaceful presence that truly sees people,” says X. 

You can read more about the inspiring work SLC does for our campus on p. ??. The Q&A is part of a story bundle dedicated to all the ways this University and its people are changing lives — spiritually, academically, and socially. 

Read about how the theme took hold of our brand and about the University’s profound impact on alumni, students, faculty, and staff (p. ??). 

If you’re feeling a bit morbid — but in a life-affirming way — check out our Q&A with professors XY and XYZ about their new podcast, “Welcome to Your Funeral” (p. ??). Then, relive the most transformative moments in legendary field hockey coach XYZZ’s career (p. ??).

Finally, see innovation and collaboration in action in a story about a Lynchburg-themed beer brewed by two alumni who made the most of their business degrees (p. ??). 

When I got home after that hectic day, my husband had an idea. 

We strained the stew to drain out as much vinegar as possible, added some baking soda (Fynn’s idea), a bit of heavy cream (my idea), and poured it over rice. 

It wasn’t the culinary revelation I’d envisioned, but it was actually pretty good — like a rich, spicy Mexican-Southern curry that was sort of satisfying and fatty.

After dinner, Ewan told me he’d finished all of his homework at school: “I did it while we were working on something else.” 

“Great!” I exclaimed, and “Shhh,” I whispered to the tiny voice in my brain wondering if his homework turned out OK. 

Overall, I’d call it a win.

** The above is an unpublished magazine column I wrote in late February 2024. **

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