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We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. – Elie Wiesel

Social Media posts are a real bummer these days, am I right? I miss hamsters eating burritos!

I heard some complaining that they were tired of the depressing posts about the former Stanford student who got off easy for sexual assault and the responses to Emily Doe’s letter she read in court. Chances are, they aren’t the 1 in 5 women who have had the pleasure of being the victim of unwelcome sexual advances or God forbid, rape and sexual assault.

And enough already with their feed being inundated with comments, stories, and various posts about the Orlando shooting and a desire that our government reassess – or at least have a grown up conversation about- our gun laws, I hope to God their privilege protects them long enough to never fear being open about who they are or who they, or their children, love.

When “Black Lives Matter” compels you correct someone with, “ALL Lives Matter” and remind everyone that being a cop is hard. Yeah, it’s got to be a real breeze to worry about driving or walking or breathing, all while being Black.

People are screaming out to be heard because of a constant reminder that many of us are marginalized and not enough, just as we are, to be left the hell alone. If it is depressing to see our pleas and reminders of the way so many people are treated- DO SOMETHING. If you are one of the privileged, SPEAK UP! I’m tired and weary of preaching to a choir that already agrees, but I cannot be silent.

If nothing else, let’s make a deal. If you want us go back to cat videos, pictures of our kids on the first day of school, and what we are eating for dinner, and God knows we ALL want that, listen and take a second to look at your privilege. If you can use it in any way, use it stop hate and reject anyone who wants hate and fear to be the path we take in our country.

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July 7, 2016 · 2:17 pm

Fall Asleep, Love

—Must a little weep, Love,
(Foolish me!)
And so fall asleep, Love,
Loved by thee.

“A Woman’s Last Word”, by Robert Browning

There is only one thing worse that an overtired little kid.  An overtired little kid, his overtired brother and their overtired mom, all trying to make it to bedtime without losing their s#!t completely.  It really is just a matter of time and I am certain about one thing.  This. Will.  Suck.

We went to dinner, one kid was climbing the rails (literally) and the other kept interrupting.  I yelled.  Some lady told me that my kid was putting quarters too close to his mouth and was going to choke.  I’m assuming she was being helpful and nice but in my state, she had laser beams of judgement shooting out of her eyes and talon-like nails, perfect for finger wagging.  I just smiled, said thank you and that he has already swallowed a dime and penny in his short 4 years, 11 months and 11 days on Earth so far, so I’ll be sure to keep an eye on him.  We ate.  We left.  After we had some food in us, it all seemed a little bit better.  I told the kids to go in the backyard to play and let them have ice cream cones.  I plopped on my bed and goofed off online.  Things were looking up, but Little Guy’s exhaustion got the better of him and he fell apart.  This is where the story should get really sucky and I start ranting about how cuckoo these babies were.

But here’s what really happened:

I hugged Big One, who kept trying to crawl into bed and cuddle with me while I having some quiet time.  While I asked Little Guy to get ready for his bath, I explained that we needed to just love Little Guy through this and help him get to bed.  What I know as a mom is that when my kids are that wiped out and just a wreck, there is no use in doing anything except love them through it.  I can’t say it was without its moments- he drank bath water and splashed me when I told him it wasn’t okay and it was time to get out of the tub.  He fell into hysterics when I said it was time to actually go to sleep.  I had to carry him up the ladder of his bunk bed and just hold him as he sobbed and insisted that he ‘really wasn’t very tired’.  30 minutes, a drink of water and a proper set up of stuffed monkeys in his bed, Little Guy was asleep.

I went into the living room and cuddled Big One for the next 45 minutes.  At one point, he thanked me for spending some alone time, just me and him.  He is older and not as demanding as his little brother, but I realized that his need for me to give him my love and attention are just as present and real.  Loving him through those feelings is so special to me and I am so grateful for it.  We watched a bit of TV and he put his head on my chest, twirling my hair like he did when he was so small.  He went to bed without issue and I hugged him so tight.  When I came into my room a bit later to write this, I found that he had snuck into my bed AGAIN.  I think I’ll let him stay tonight.

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August 11, 2013 · 10:32 pm