Why is Maine Purple?

This week my country saw another election. I had hoped that post election our country would settle down and we could finally move on with our lives...I was wrong. In our house we colored in a map of the United States according to how they voted with the electoral college. Now, my son is 4 so we didn't discuss what the electoral college was, we just colored. We did it together, this state red, this state blue, this state red, this state blue etc. Until we got to our last state, Maine. I looked at the electoral college votes and the state and then the crayons in front of me...I needed another color. I needed purple. So I grabbed the purple and we colored Maine purple. 

"Why is this one purple?"

"Let me show you something." I scribbled on white paper with a red crayon, then a blue crayon slightly overlapping. "Do you see the red?"

"Yes. And the blue."

"Good. Do you see what happened where I used both colors?"

"It's pink! I mean purple."

"That's correct! The two colors come together and make purple."

"I like purple. Why are these other one blue and red and not purple?"

Deep breath, he's 4...how do I tell me son about our broken system and our broken people...deep breath...

"You see this box of colors here?"

"Yes. Can I use the green crayon?"

"I wish we could, but the green crayon didn't win any states."

"Why not?"

"Because people forgot that the green crayon was an option. They think that the crayon box is filled with only blue and red crayons."

"But this one is purple! How did that happen!?" 

(because Maine has their shit together kid...not what I said, but I certainly thought it).

"Because in Maine they split their votes between red and blue and that brought them together to make purple."

"But...why didn't the others?"

"I have no good answer for you baby. The truth is that some people put a higher premium on their own needs than the needs of others and in doing so they belittle and shame others. They demand tolerance while being tyrants. You don't understand, do you?"

**BLANK STARE**

"Okay, if I make you give your race car to someone who didn't make one of their own, how would you feel?"

"That's not fair! It's mine, I made it with daddy!"

"That's right. It's not fair. What if I told you that you have to give that race car to someone else and you aren't allowed to be upset by that or I'm going to treat you badly?"

"That's not fair, that's not nice. They can make their own!" 

"Yes, they can. What if they don't have the money to buy the wood and wheels for their car?"

"We can help them!"

"Yes, we can. We absolutely can help them."

"How do we get money?"

"Daddy and mommy work and get money."

"Yes. Someday you will work and get your own money. But what if you cannot work enough to get enough money?"

"You and daddy will help me...right mommy?"

"Right. We will help you. But not everyone has a mommy and daddy who can help. Who should help them?"

"We can. Or maybe people who have extra money?"

"Yes. Exactly. Should we make people help other people?"

"Umm...maybe if they want to."

"If they want to is right. When do you want to share your toys with your sister?"

"When I'm done. But not when I'm still playing with them."

"Exactly. Before this gets too complicated...You don't want to share your race car that you built with daddy, but you want to help other people to get the pieces necessary to make their own; and if they need the money for that you think people should be free to do so without being told they have to, because they might still have things to do with their money...correct?"

"Yes, and we can buy them paint so that they can paint their cars too."

"Z, you just made purple. You took two different ideas and you mixed them together to make something better: purple."

"But I like green best."

"We'll talk about green next election. For this election lets just focus on red, blue, and purple. People in the red camp don't like being told that they have to share; meanwhile, people in the blue camp don't like the idea that people who have resources (like money) don't share. People in the blue camp want everyone to have the same thing, and people in the red camp want everyone to have the same opportunities. You took those two colors and made purple when you said that what's yours is yours, but you don't mind helping someone else make their own."

"That's purple. What are green people?"

"So there is red for republicans, blue for democrats, purple for Maine, green for people who support the environment, and then white for libertarians. There are even more colors than that, but these are the ones that often get represented during the election process." 

"Nobody likes green and white?"

"They do. But green and white didn't win anywhere."

"What are you and daddy?"

"We're...I can't speak for daddy really. But I'm like the rainbow. I think that all the colors can come together and make something even more beautiful."

"But you voted for what color?"

"For president I voted white. There are other positions in government that I voted blue and some red and some green. Because that's what I believe will make the prettiest and best United States."

"Can we say the pledge now? I'm done coloring."

"Yes sweety, go for it."

"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America. And to the republiK, for which it stamps, one nation, under God, indivisible with liverty and justice and for all."

To my darling daughter,

    I pray on this day and every day of your life that you know that you are more than the sum of your anatomy. People have said some truly hateful things to mommy because she chose not to vote for the female presidential candidate. We live in a country and society that demands I vote for the woman because of my anatomy. But I refuse to be reduced to my vagina. I am more than that, and so are you. I care about more than abortion, or free health care access, or equal access to jobs based on anatomy. Your daddy does too. You can do whatever you want in this life. You can be the president some day if you want. You can be a stay at home mom some day if you want. I will support you and fight for your right to do that. I will support you if you decide that you will join the military and do something incredibly dangerous in special forces. I will need a lot of Jesus for that, but I will do it because you can do whatever you want. It doesn't matter what your anatomy is or it's size. It matters what your heart says, the size of your passion and the size of your will to fight for it. You can do so gracefully, without losing your dignity. I am not the best example of this, but I am a great example of how to pick yourself up and try again. So I will help you with that if you need it. 

Your daddy is a member of the best branch of our armed forces for women to really shine in the reality of what I'm saying to you. The Coast Guard has never had "gender norming" rules or fitness standards for their rates/jobs. The job is the same no matter who does it. In the after math of hurricane Katrina there were men and women aviation survival technicians who pulled people from the destruction. Long before the Navy allowed women afloat the respect of holding command, the Coast Guard did it. The Coast Guard was the first branch to accept women into their academy. Women of the Coast Guard didn't whine and demand it be given to them. They fought with and pushed themselves to not only meet but exceed the standards set before them. That is my prayer for you. You are fierce. We are going to butt heads a lot. But nobody will ever have your back like me. Well...I suppose some day you will marry and I will take a back seat to that person, but until then, I am your champion. I am fighting for you, with every vote, to have a world where you are valued for your individual ability to contribute to society and to the betterment of mankind. You are supported by daddy and I, but do not mistake support for acceptance of mediocre. You will have dreams, they will be big, and we will encourage you to fight for them. We will call you out if you throw in the towel. If your dreams change, we will be right there to support the new dream. But we will not support you giving up. You and your brother are so much more than the labels that society will try to put on you. Take them off, stick them in the garbage where they belong. There is only 1 label that you need to wear proudly and remember every day of your life: loved. I hope that by the time you can read and understand this letter that our country is purple, or  rainbow. I hope that you will not have to experience the polarizing effect that the two party system has on our countrymen. 

I love you,

Mom.

 **I did not host my weekly "whine and wine Friday" this week because of the election. I am done with the media and the fighting. I believe in a better world for my children and that is what I am teaching them: how to be the better world. Go be shiny!

I Watch You Breathe, So That I Can Too

Dear Sweet Boy,

I love you. It has been a long hard year and it's about to get harder, again. Daddy and I love you so much. I know you feel that you are less important to me. I know that you think your sister has taken over my attention. The military has ruined your perfect family in your eyes. Your teacher is gone, your friends are gone, you live in a place with rules about TAPS that you don't fully understand, your daddy has been gone for most of the year. Your life has been turned upside-down. You have made a few new friends but not as many as you could if you were in preschool again. There are so many new rules, they come with age, and you don't really like them. You have had to take a back seat to your sister's doctors appointments and you have so much energy that keeping you in a doctor's office isn't fair to anyone. I'm so sorry. I try to arrange for you to get to be with one of your friends while mommy takes baby sister to yet another specialist appointment. It just doesn't always work out that way though bud. I don't know how to explain to you that your friend's parents have lives and plans and they can't always have you over when little sister has an appointment. Sometimes, you have to come with us. It breaks my heart when I see you acting out because of this new dynamic where you get less time with mom and dad and sister gets more mom time. I know you think I sound mean when I correct your behavior (yet again), but on the inside I'm sobbing tears of sorrow that I pray you never understand.

Your sister sees over a dozen specialists and you have to go with us, or be home and not be involved for those appointments. You have to be quiet while mommy and doctors/therapists talk. When you ask me what is wrong with your little sister it is everything I have not to breakdown when I say, "I don't know". Because the truth of not knowing is killing me, and it's why we see so many specialists. "I don't know" is why the balance scales of mom's time are "unfairly" tipped in your sister's favor. "I don't know" are three words I don't want to ever say again in regards to your sister's health. I cringe at them, I hate them. I hate that 'I don't know' with every fiber of my being and my sweet boy I want you to know something: as fierce and passionate as you've seen me fighting for your sister, I will fight for you. You are just as loved and important as she is. You've seen me in full bitch/get the job done mode and you've seen me breakdown when I am lost in trying to help her. You have patted my back, held my face in your tiny hands, and told me that everything is going to be okay. You are the sweetest little boy ever, and in those moments my heart breaks all over again for you and what you are missing out on, what you are witnessing. My precious child, I wish you didn't have to see this sometimes. I tell myself that it's okay. That you are seeing what a strong mom/woman looks like. But mostly, in my heart, those are lies I tell myself to comfort myself.

What you don't know most is that your exhausted mom is fighting for you too. The only way for you to do your 2nd year of Cubbies is if mommy "volunteers" to help the AWANA Club. So mommy volunteers and you get to do your 2nd year of Cubbies. While other parents probably don't think much of it, this is asking a lot of your mommy. The time is incredibly inconvenient, there's a lot of work involved when trying to plan for everyone, our Sundays are fully booked. When we get home the last thing I want to do is make dinner and that whole nighttime routine thing, but I do it. I do it so that you have something that you love, that doesn't revolve around your sister. We did swim lessons, just for you buddy. You get to do crafts and projects (just you and dad or mom) that you love. I make myself be a better mom, for you. You challenge me to be more patient, be gentle and you remind me that I need more grace. You don't know it, but once the house is still and everyone is asleep for the night, I sneak into your room and watch you sleep. I count your breaths, breathe with you. While you sleep, sister sleeps, daddy sleeps (when he's home) I am in your room, praying over you, telling you that I love you, doing yoga and taking a few moments just to share space with you. When I finish, I kiss your forehead and sneak out down the hall. I pray over your sister before I snuggle up to my pillow (or your daddy if he's home) and I fall asleep with hope that tomorrow can be better.

I promise you my sweet boy, I will someday know what is going on with your sister. I have to find the answer not just for her, but for you as well. I love you, please hold onto that as we muddle through this.

Love,
Mommy

The Mom War. How do you measure up to your own standards, and whose back do you have?

The mommy wars are a real thing. But the mom war is a personal nightmare and struggle. The sanctimonious mothers of the world do their best to make themselves look better and make you feel worse. You meager mother who is making scrambled eggs for the 4th straight week because it's all you've got in you. Or you, mom who has poured cereal for dinner again. These women...there just aren't words for them, and we could all be better off if they just toned it down a fucking notch. Do you know where the real struggle is though? It's amongst our own friends. We find our tribe, it's true. But sometimes within our own tribe of mothers we find our worst enemies are also our friends.

"I live for my kids." "I never knew what my purpose in life was until I had X." "love getting to stay home with Y and be his mommy." "I am so blessed to be able to work from home and spend more time with my babies."

They mean these things. These aren't sanctimommies. These are real mommies who often appreciate and can relate to the fact that you let your 2 year old eat a stale fry off the car floor that has NEVER been cleaned. They just also happen to be biologically engineered to love being mothers; it feeds their souls. Their social media is a mixture of light hearted mom oops and how much they love being mommy. They do the real damage to a mom's fragile state of mind. The mom that is hiding in the bathroom crying, door locked, kids banging on the door and screaming, baby screaming because the dog won't move out of the hallway so the baby can have a 2 foot clearance on either side. That mom, she might get herself all calmed down and take a moment to skim Facebook before braving the tiny dictators, and that is when she will fall apart all over again. Some friend will have just posted about how amazing being a mom is and how fulfilling it is. And our bathroom hiding mom will be in tears, again. She is not as good a mom as her friend. After all, her friend has similar struggles but she still loves being a mom. Our mom is terrified to get out of bed each morning because she isn't sure she can make it through another day. I'm not talking about all the moms out there that are struggling with mental health issues. Those moms are my heros, and they too fight an uphill battle every day. I mean the moms that are struggling to come to terms with being a mom.

Being a mom does not fulfill her. She is freaking out, why did she think she would be good at this? What was she thinking? She is about to snap her kid in half if he picks on his sister again. How the hell did her kid become such a little shit!? Being a mom is the most important work we do. Raising our kids not to be douchebags is incredibly important, giving them a good moral compass. This shit is hard. And when you don't live up to your own standards, and those of your family, it's even harder. You then have only your tribe to turn to and sometimes they can't even help. You fall apart. Our poor struggling mom is doubting everything in life because she feels like the world's biggest failure as a mom.

Nobody tells her that that feeling is actually what makes her a great mom. That feeling (as long as we aren't talking about clinical depression and/or anxiety) will push her to be better. That feeling will make her review her methods and do "better". I said "better" because that word is subjective. She may already be a kickass mom who is raising the kids on her own because she's a military spouse or single parent (there really isn't much difference-long distance emotional support), but in her mind there is better. As moms, as fellow travelers on this journey, we need to remind ech other that we are good enough. We need to be willing to help each other out and take the kids off each other's plates occasionally. And when it happens that the only thing that will make it better is daddy/husband/tequila-we need to be there extra for her. We need to help her get through until that can happen. Because she is NOT weak, she IS a good mom, and she is WORTHY of support. You can't even imagine how appreciative she will be when you reach out and support her. This is like a life's debt in the mommy world. She will have your back whenever you need her.