This little dude arrived last week, more or less on time, which felt quite late to this summer-hating mama.
We’re all doing well — better than I expected, to be honest — as we navigate through and to our new normal.
These first couple months are my least favorite phase of motherhood. My body aches in too many places; I’m not getting enough rest; the feeding and the burping and the diaper-changing and the helping-to-sleep are endless, thankless jobs.
But there is this baby, so sweet and small. His softness. His vulnerability. His tongue fluttering as he searches for milk. His eyes blinking as he learns to see the world. His fingers curling around mine out of instinct, and maybe even trust. The rise and fall of his chest. His funny little mewls.
Sometimes the tiniest things have the mightiest force. Sometimes the hardest things are the most worthwhile.
Wow. On Saturday night, I went to bed to one mass shooting, and on Sunday morning, I woke up to another. We can now mark the time between these tragedies — these atrocities — not in days but in hours. Is this what America’s greatness looks like?
I don’t want anyone to have to be “hashtag strong.” I want everyone to be able to be as weak and vulnerable as my children, and still be safe from gun violence.
This country has a problem. Many, many problems. They are fixable, but not if we keep pretending they don’t exist. Not if we keep shifting the blame, and offering lip service instead of making actual change.
We are losing our lives to hate, cowardice, and political bullshit.
It has to end.
Call your reps. Tell them how you feel. Tell them what you want. Tell them to do their f-cking jobs and represent us, protect us, serve us.
I called my reps this weekend — in tears — and I’ll call again. I won’t stop calling, and donating, and speaking out.
There’s a lot to be done. Let’s do it.