Happy Mother's Day And More Stuff...

Happy Mother's Day!






These are the faces that made me a Mom.


By far, the biggest, best, most important, most rewarding part of my life.


From the first hint of that whispering, foreign, echoing heartbeat in the doctor's office, wherein I couldn't keep my nineteen-year-old knees from shaking, laden with the weight of what this meant, nor wipe the quiet smile from my face. From the endless nights filled with feedings, diaper changes, and wearing grooves in the floorboards from pacing through marathons of lullabies. From the impromptu haircuts, wall art, and dance parties. and "pets."

Through the heartache brought forth by bullies, the loss of friends, and every other tumultuous growing pain of adolescence. Through the first strides of true independence, finding your wings and testing their fortitude.

To now. To the kind, strong, smart, giving, beautiful souls you have become. To see you, and I do, I couldn't be more proud to be called your Mom. 



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Now, on to a different, but not completely unrelated topic. One that has been unrelentingly nagging at me, kidnapping my sleep.


This week two boys died in hopes of saving their friends from gunfire. A twelve-year-old spoke of how he wrapped his hands around a bat, "Just in case. I was going to go down fighting if I was going down."

Kindergarten-aged children are scared to go to school.

Lockdown drills are a thing.

I've had those put forth the argument that lockdown drills are no different the "bomb" drill from back in the day.

I've given it a lot of thought, here is why that doesn't stand up.

Those old school drills were supposed to help kids feel safe in a world where a foreign power was the threat. It was a threat that only the foreign power had control over. That's not what this is.

What these kids are being forced to endure is child abuse. What's the difference between what they are having to and what a child with a violent parent has to live through?

They are becoming experts in hiding from the rage that could kill them. They are becoming proficient in silence, as not to be found. They are being forced into invisibility.

There have been 35 school shootings in the United States since last fall. This is not normal. This doesn't happen anywhere else. This shouldn't happen.

Changing gun laws may not stop all of them. But, it might stop one. Wouldn't that be enough? Wouldn't that be worth it?

This, what you are choosing to put your kids through, is child abuse. These shootings, living through the terror, watching their friends die, the blood-soaked floors, these are things that will follow them forever. Just like with every other kind of abuse, it will become a big part of who they will become.

They will suffer triggers for the rest of their lives for the sake of yours.

It seems the same group of people fighting any kind of gun reform are also claiming to be pro-life, anti-abortion supporters. Does the value of life diminish after birth to the point that once they're school-aged, they don't matter?

You keep them alive to terrorize them so you can blast bullets at hundreds of rounds a minute.

Child abuse.

You trade the mental health of your babies for what? Your right to protect yourself? Do you not hear the idiotic irony in that?


Child abuse. This doesn't happen anywhere else. This shouldn't happen.

Do something. You profess to love your children. Prove it. You profess to be such a great Country. Prove it.

Stop your babies from having to be the heroes, stepping in to save the children you aren't willing to save.

This is child abuse.

If you saw a parent putting their kids at risk every day just to satisfy some bloated entitlement, you would call Child Protective Services. If, as a parent, you keep yourself in a situation where your baby has to hide and be silent to stay alive on a regular basis, you are abusing your child.


Do something. This is child abuse.



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Mother's Day


May every macaroni necklace, every footprint butterfly, every questionable breakfast be savoured.
May your day be filled with contentment, feet up, passing the time however you wish, bliss, secured.

May you celebrate your Momhood, accept its imperfections, hell, celebrate those too.
May you know you are the best Mom you can be, at least most days, and that's awesome, and so are you.



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Until next time...


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