If Any Of This Was About Protecting Children...

 

Hi.

This week, I don't even know where to begin.

The absolutely spectacular hypocrisy exuding from our neighbours to the South is breathtaking in all of the worst possible ways. 

The right-wing politicians and their deluded followers love to weaponize Christianity to fit whatever narrative suits them at the moment. 

Abortion- they want to claim that life begins at conception. If that is your belief, then child support should begin then as well. Pregnant women should not be allowed to be sent to prison, as the baby can not be punished for the sins of the mother. A mother on assistance should receive more the minute a pregnancy test is positive. 

The idea of stripping women of autonomy of their own bodies is ridiculous. To do so under the guise that it is, in some way, an act of noble protection of children, is just an outright lie.

If any of it were really about protecting children, it wouldn't simply stop at abortion. If your belief is that life begins at conception and, that the protection of children should come before the rights of the individual, then protecting that life shouldn't end once the child is born.

If any of it were really about protecting children, your healthcare system would reflect that. If you take your blinders off and look at the world, at large, you will see just how broken your system is. People should not have to mortgage their house to get cancer treatment for their children. They shouldn't have to sacrifice basic needs to cover prescriptions. No one should have to worry about whether or not they can "afford" for their child to become ill. That's insane. 

If any of it were really about protecting children, your gun laws would reflect that. Your individual "right" to bear arms should not be held as more important than the lives of the children you scream at the top of your lungs, a vow, to protect. In your country, your children die of gun violence more than any other manner of death. How is it that you, in the same breath, vow protection, and refuse to give it?

If any of it were really about protecting children, fingers that are deemed too young to wrap themselves around a glass of beer, would also be deemed too young to wrap around the trigger of an assault weapon.

If any of it were really about protecting children.

It's not. 

It's about power.

Having it to lord over others, particularly women. 

Keeping it by genuflecting at the altar of the almighty gun worshippers. Willing to sacrifice your babies to appease them.  

Twisting it to reflect an imaginary, completely ridiculous idea that most Americans are against gun legislation. That's bullshit. It just is. 

This gun obsession is unique to the United States. It happens nowhere else... not like this. 

The United States has had 22 school shooting incidents this year. That's not even six months. Twenty-two times your children have had to live through a trauma usually reserved for those who suffer through wars. You are voluntarily putting your children through active shooter drills. You are sending them to school every day knowing that today could be the day someone walks in, and kills, at least, some of them. 

Your children have more in common with the children of Ukraine, living through Putin's horror, than they do with kids from most other countries, like Canada. 

The death grip with which you hold on to your guns is snuffing the light and life out of your children.

Let it go. 

Thoughts and prayers are meaningless, if not followed by action. 

Our children, the world's children, are already living through a time of historic uncertainty. Why add to it?

To make ends meet, people, including parents, are having to work two, three, or more jobs. People are sleep-deprived, and stressed, every minute and penny needing to be accounted for. 

They have spent two of their formative years living through a pandemic, and all that that entailed. The confusion, the changes, the anger, the divisiveness, the fear.

They are dealing with reconfiguring their lives, resocialization, and finding their feet, all under the guidance of these same, stressed, sleep-deprived, time-stretched, adults. 

How do the kids not fall through these societal cracks that are now big enough to devour them at will? 

So, neighbour, here I sit, in my imperfect, flawed home country of Canada, watching you, yet again, clutch your pearls as you witness your latest, completely preventable tragedy. I'm not alone. The whole world watches you balance your lies, juggle your hypocrisy, and bathe in your trigger-happy obsession.

Do you feel judged?

You should. Because you are.

You are a country willing to sit and watch your babies die from the bullets empowered by your elected officials.

Save your thoughts and prayers. If you were really horrified by these massacres, you would DO something. 

If any of this was really about protecting children...

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For the families...

May you, someday, once again, be able to close your eyes and smile at their memory.

May you find the strength to breathe, to walk, to love, to function, albeit in reverie.

May this be the end, the last one, with no more masses, no more babies to fall.

May this be the last time, anyone, any family, any parent, gets this horrific call.

May this be the last time. Please, make this the last time.

Small Fires... A Venting

 

Hi!

Disclaimer:

Please accept the following as a venting exercise, for that is how it is intended. I am very aware of the privilege my epidermic translucence affords me. It is a not-so-invisible badge of benefit I inherited through no skill or effort of my own. It is only by pure happenstance that I live where I do, in the skin I am in. My sheer lack of melanin has built-in perks. It shouldn't. I wish it didn't. I hope, someday soon, it no longer does. But, here we are.

So, on to the venting.

A few things.

I have spent the last week putting out a few small, figurative fires.  

A laptop that decided to have its screen crap out. A laptop that is needed every single day to run our business. So I had to make an emergency run to find a free-standing monitor for computer life support. One fire out.

Then, the interac terminal decides it's done working. Yup. Just done. So, had to scramble to find a solution. Did that, but will take 5 to 7 business days to come to fruition. So, yeah. Two fires kinda out.

Then, our car, brand new about 8 months ago, decided to throw some sort of weird code. Some thingamabob sensor thingy under the hood had a fit which made the app on my phone yell at me. Thankfully, it's still under warranty. Ate up about four hours, but the third fire was out. 

All of these things, these little fires, eat up time. A commodity of which we have none to spare, these days. 

But they are out. The fires. Well, if you don't count the hot flashes, but whatever. 

Compared to the huge, horrible issues plaguing the world right now, these are small things.  

I'm grateful to live where I live, (even if it DOES snow in May) and the relatively peaceful existence that provides.

I'm grateful to have the life I have. 

I'm extremely grateful for the freedoms afforded to us through the sacrifices of those who fought, and continue to fight, for them. 

I'm grateful I have an incredible family with whom I can share all the good and bad.

I'm grateful.

But, frustration and gratitude aren't mutually exclusive. 

So... vent.

Scream into the abyss. Go ten rounds with a pillow. Go for a run. Go for a bike ride. Have a good cry. Find a healthy outlet, and let it rip. It doesn't mean you don't appreciate what, or who you have in your life, it just means you're human. 

I hate to write and run, but like I said, time is in short supply right now, gotta run. (Or maybe cry)

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May all of your fires be small, and easily extinguished.

That's all I got, cant' think of anything that rhymes with extinguished.

Later.

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Town Deer And Spring Skies... Breathing In A Volatile World... Trying

 

Hi!

Things are still crazy. Russia is still trying to get rid of Ukrainians and take their Country away from them. Putin is still evil. Still crazy. Still a garbage human.

And, yes, the people of Ukraine are still kicking ass and taking names along the way. And they will until it's over. Incredibly heroic, showing the rest of the world how to stand up to power gluttons. 

But the world keeps spinning, even as they fight to defend their homes and families. Even as their displaced find safe places to lay their heads. Spinning.

In our neck of the woods, where the deer apparently prefer condo living over open fields, and the skies put on a show each and every day, we keep on keeping on.

Running our business, trying to finish writing my next novel, trying to figure out what the next steps in writing will look like, trying to spend more time with family and friends. Trying.

That's all any of us can do. Try. 

We do our best, and sometimes it may not be good enough, at least for some. But that is a them problem. Our best is all we have to give. If a person can step to a mirror, look themselves in the eye, and know without a doubt that they gave their all, nothing more can be expected. 

Everyone's try looks a bit different. And it should. Everyone has a different way of doing things, seeing things, processing things. 

Priorities are different. And they should be. What lives at the top of your priority list is up to you. Other peoples' opinions about what your list looks like are invalid. They spend zero time walking in your shoes, living your struggles, finding your balance. They don't get a vote. 

The reality is, none of us know how long we are going to have the privilege of walking this planet. How we choose to do it is just that, our choice. 

If you are walking through life being the best human you know how to be, are willing to grow, and learn, acquiring emotional tools, and coping skills along the way, you are doing awesome.

None of us has this figured out. We are all just figuring it out as we go. Trying. 

The world is always in some level of upheaval. Oppressed people will always fight for a level playing field. I hope it happens. One group of people is always thinking they should have control over another group of people. I hope that stops. 

History is full of volatility. But it is also full of phenomenal kindness, beauty, and joy.

Hopefully, we can eventually learn from past mistakes, and not keep repeating them. Hopefully. 

There is still kindness. The good guys still outnumber the bad, they just aren't as good for ratings.

The world keeps spinning, and we will forever try. 

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May you find peace, find balance, find joy, find laughter, even when things are scary.

May you find the weight of other peoples' opinions is not yours to carry.

May you allow yourself to surrender to what you can't control, you're not always shown the why.

May you give yourself permission to make mistakes, none of us are perfect, we just don't quit the try. 

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Let's Celebrate Moms, Shall We?

 Happy Mother's Day!

I thought we might take a minute to celebrate the Moms. 

I know the world is still in a state of upheaval. I know the disgusting, brutal attack on Ukraine is still raging. I know there are still people out there insisting on playing pretend about a very real pandemic. 

I just thought in the midst of it all, maybe to spite it, I thought we could all use a moment to step out of all of that, and take a little jaunt down a peaceful path bathed in peaceful, warm light, soft music, and sappy sentiment. 

So...Moms.

Whether by blood, through adoption, or through happenstance... Moms.

Being a Mom is like being an athlete in the Olympics. One where participants participate in spectacular events, events in which perfect scores are impossible, and success is relative. 

Know that going in. 

The events include, but are not exclusive to, the following:

First event...Bodily fluid management-

This event requires accuracy, dexterity, focus, and a strong stomach. It involves being able to change a blowout diaper in public, crowded spaces where smell travels. Bonus marks are given if you can change this blowout while simultaneously settling a fight between said baby's preschool siblings. In a home setting another set of bonus points can be earned if no longer than 30 seconds passes between the initial "Mom! Come wipe my bum!" and the actual act of wiping said bum.

This event also includes staying up with sick kids for multiple nights in a row cleaning up vomit, making weak tea, and changing sheets, spending the days doing laundry, keeping up with all other obligations, and performing the required cuddling that we all know makes everybody feel better. 

The final faction of this event requires wiping multiple snotty noses... while blindfolded...with no boundaries as to where the littles can run. 

Second event... Release into the world-

This event requires stamina, focus, and the ability to not project your fears and apprehensions onto your child. It involves handing your children off to either a daycare or school (the timing varies for each athlete) where they will spend hours away from you, where you will not have a minute-by-minute accounting of their time and activities. Bonus points can be earned by not crying. Double Bonus points can be earned by smiling throughout the whole ordeal. 

Thrid event... Realization-

This event requires every Mom to be hit upside the head multiple times with the realization that not everyone on the planet will love, or even like, your child. Bonus points in this event can be earned by helping your child/children understand that of course this is true, and, better yet, it's just fine. 

Fourth event... adolescence/teenagedom-

This event requires enormous amounts of patience and understanding. Skills involve supporting and guiding prickly, crabby, hormone-driven blind=folded humans through the gauntlet that is adolescence. The goal is to help them navigate this maze with as few scars as possible. Best results in this event occur when more time is spent listening than speaking. 

The fifth and final event... the marathon-

This event requires stamina... in every way imaginable.

You will be tested. You will be pushed beyond your limits more times than you can count. You will love the vast majority of the journey, but there will be parts that make you question entering this Olympics at all. There will be times when you feel you have no shot of success, and there will be times when you feel like you are absolutely crushing it. Over time you will discover that those two feelings are not mutually exclusive. 

There will be uphill battles that will seem endless, but there will also be times when things seem to coast along effortlessly.

There will be moments when you want to ditch the whole experiment, but those are overwhelmingly outnumbered by the moments you are smothered in joy, sticky kisses, and random hugs. 

In the end, there are no winners or losers, only participants who have done their best with the tools they have. 

So, the judges can take the day off. They are not needed for this event. So give yourself a gold medal. You deserve it. Or better yet, just accept it in whatever form it takes from those who call you Mom. 

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May your breakfast in bed and handmade gift not be crafted from the same ingredients.

May you actually get a moment of quiet and peace, your day filled with their sweet innocence. 

May you allow yourself to celebrate you. You've earned it. It's your day, embrace it.

May you step to the mirror, accept the kick-ass mom you see, she's yours, she's you, face it.

May we all accept that we aren't perfect, and neither should we be expected to be.

May we all embrace our best as enough, our best is all our littles need or see. 

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