Posts about relationships.

Let’s get to work.

Right now, there hasn’t been a day that has passed where I am not equally knocked on my ass and fired up by the insane shit happening under the Trump administration. I can’t stop and I can’t keep up. Something happens, I am appalled, I research and research and research so I can understand what the hell is going on and then I contact my representatives and before I can even take a breath, something else has happened.
It’s exhausting.
And it never lets up.
And beyond doing what I consider to be my duties as a citizen who wants my voice to be heard in my government, I have a handful of friends and family who post factually incorrect shit and I feel obligated to tell them it’s wrong and then there’s always some kind of ensuing conversation. The last of which was with a family member who told me we were “done communicating” when I answered his ridiculous question of whether or not I was ok living in America under Sharia law by saying I didn’t want that religion or any religion telling me what I can and cannot do with my body and life – including his.
A lot of the opinion pieces that are reposted by friends and family just cause me to use the little unfollow button facebook because some of these people are off limits for me. It was hard to choose which people those were and most of my “friends” didn’t make the list. But there are a handful of people, like the mother of my daughter’s best friend who is super religious and doesn’t believe in gay marriage and who is raising a daughter who has expressed to my daughter that she thinks she is gay. I can’t call this woman out because then I stop being a person who her daughter can turn to. And that is just more important.
I guess that is why I am driven to write this post. Because that same mother shared an article that I don’t even want to link to because it so awful. An article written by a woman to her baby daughter talking about all of the reasons she didn’t march for her. It’s such a compilation of bullshit that it has taken me several attempts to just read it. And while I really want to break down the entire post that this woman wrote in bullet points and refute it in its entirety, I won’t. I won’t because I don’t want to put you readers through pages and pages of arguing. I don’t want to waste the next few hours of my life fuming and researching and taking deep breaths so I can keep my temper in check. And, my god, this red-headed woman wants to let that temper fly and furiously hack away at this keyboard and eviscerate that post. The same way I want to write out paragraph after paragraph about how disappointed I am in Heather Armstrong over the last few weeks.
But I’m not going to.
Because these are all distractions from what I should be doing.
And while tearing that post apart or telling Heather that I think she was a total hypocrite will probably make me feel like I got it all off of my chest and maybe even feel a little better, like I’ve accomplished something – it will not change anything. It will not tell those who represent us that we are not ok with the cabinet choices, it will not tell them which policies matter the most to us, it will not help the government agencies that were silenced get their voices back.
It’s all a distraction to keep us from making changes happen.
And I want to make change happen.
So here is what I want to say to my own daughters, all four of them, and to my little granddaughter who will be here in a few short weeks, and to all of the daughters out there who can’t tell their mothers or fathers who they really are is this: I will keep marching for you. I will march for you to get to choose who you want to be in this world. I will march for your equality. I will march for the women in countries who have it far more difficult that I can even imagine. I will march for your choice to be a mother or not be a mother. I will march for your right to feel safe in all places. I will march for your right to choose who you marry. I will march for you. I will fight for you. I will be there for you. But you have to get up and do something, too. You have make those calls, write those letters and emails, show up to vote, and educate yourselves on what is going on. Don’t think because you have privilege that all women do. Take that privilege, like millions of people did a few weeks ago, and put it to good use to make the changes you want to see in this world.

almost time…

This past weekend, my daughter and I packed all of the stuff she is taking to college and then we laid down on her bed together and created an amazon wish list for all of the random stuff she’d love to receive in the mail while she is there. Washi tape, post it notes, index cards, relatively healthy snacks, mint tea… As we were working on that, The GingerBeard Man brought us a tray of chips and queso he had made. We snacked and clicked “add to list” and chatted about our upcoming trip to Minnesota. A few hours later, we were done and I went off to do my normal Sunday chores. I packed lunchboxes and did laundry and mopped the floors. It was just a normal weekend.
Yesterday I woke up riddled with anxiety. I couldn’t take enough deep breaths. I just walked around work taking deep breath after deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. Trying to figure out why they were buzzing so much. I hadn’t slept well the night before and I was so distracted that morning making breakfast and packing lunches for the little girls that one of them asked me if I was ok. In response to a message from The GingerBeard Man asking how my day was going, I admitted that I felt really anxious and I wasn’t sure why. He responded with “your daughter is moving away in two days.”
Today I woke up with some different feelings. I am still super anxious, but I am also so very emotional. Thinking about anything makes tears sting my eyes. I’ve had a knot in my stomach and a lump in my throat since I opened my eyes this morning. Today, I can see more clearly how much moving my daughter away to college is affecting me. I can tell that any thought process about her in any way is making me teary eyed.
It doesn’t change the fact that I am so happy for her and even more proud of her. But my very logical thought processes about all of this are failing to convince my heart today. Today all I can seem to do is worry about her and think about how much I will miss her.