The end is near. Ok, that sounds dramatic. Maybe not the "end" end. But the end of this pregnancy. Hopefully the end of this acid reflux. Potentially the end of net neutrality. Most certainly the end of 2017... and thank you baby Jesus for that, because can we all just get a collective "fuck 2017!"? Ah. That feels better. A little too "the glass is half empty" for you? Look, I had to do half this year WITHOUT alcohol. The year of the pussy-grabbing, racist, mentally unhinged orange baboon... and I'm rockin' it sober? Maybe there is a god and maybe he's getting back at me for questioning why he'll encourage a stranger to buy someone free coffee at Starbucks, but not like, feed starving children in third world countries. Guess we'll never really know! Usually I do an end-of-the-year recap highlighting the best and the worst of mom group drama, but this past year really wasn't about any of that for me. Sure, I still roll my eyes when I'm sent ridiculous screenshots of posts, and I'll never buy anything unicorn-related (sorry AB and AB2) but unicorns just remind me of women talking about anal sex and taking "during sex" selfies, sooooo, I JUST CAN'T. Perhaps I'm a prude, but you're getting the monkey toy instead. OK. But MOSTLY, I got the hell out of dodge and tried to avoid that shit like the plague.
We "rang in" or should I say, WEPT IN, the New Year with the poorly attended inauguration of 45, and I spent a good month or two just flat out venting. And it felt GOOD. I mean, venting is healthy. If Trumpybear gets to have Twitter meltdowns five times a week, certainly I can wallow on my Facebook page without being told to "get over it," for a hot second, right? I mean, to be fair, isn't it asking a lot of me to demand that I get over the fact that our president is a man who admitted on hot mic to sexually assaulting women, and that at least 16 women have come forward, ON RECORD, to allege sexual misconduct against him? Wait, I'm just a woman... so we all know what that means for my opinions. This year I was called a libtard, a snowflake, a bitch, a liberal cunt and told to get back into the kitchen, where I belong, to make fudge. This year, as I have been doing the more informed I become, I've really tried to listen and hear POC and WOC and understand how my privilege plays a role in the opinions I have and the way I react to things. Instead of re-shifting conversations to address my grievances with statements, I chose to listen... because I wasn't being asked to chime in. This year, after a bottle of pre-made margarita mix and a failed PLAN B PILL, I cooked a baby! No for like reals. AB2 is literally TWO WEEKS AWAY FROM MAKING HER GRAND ENTRANCE INTO THE WORLD. In 2018 we'll learn: Will I ever be able to touch my toes again? This year, after the venting (well obviously I still vent), so um, in conjunction with the venting, I started DOING. For the first time ever I made calls to congress and to senators. For the first time, I can tell you our representatives. For the first time, I can talk to you about the trustees on our school board and literally every policy piece that's been voted on this year related to CVUSD. Hey, I've still got miles to go and lots to learn, but you have to start somewhere right? This year I learned there is nothing wrong with asking questions and with being wrong. Both guide you on a path to being more informed, even when it's uncomfortable. This year I donated more money than I ever have to organizations and nonprofits. And, with your help, raised money for community events, the support of literature, and for the American Cancer Society. Yes, this year, I dressed up as a Unicorn and drank the Unicorn Frappucino. I can't believe that was this year. This year, I still had my petty moments. I CAN'T BE PERFECT ALL THE TIME GUYS. I fell prey to weakness. I joked about petty things. And then I cackled. And then I repented. And then I reminded myself that we have a white supremacist for a president and found solace in petty posts. This year I've had slight meltdowns when I realize that I can be referred to as: "a mother of two children." I really liked the ratio in which we outnumbered our child. That was working well for me. As I roll/flop into 2018 with the largest size of sweatpants I've ever worn, I want to continue this journey of activism, but in different ways. I want to challenge myself to find productive ways to have conversation with those I fundamentally disagree with. I want to discover if there's a way to connect with these people whom so strongly hold such a different set of ideals and morals than myself. Or at least I want to know that I tried. I want to read more, like a lot more... and not just baby books about night time sleep schedules. And I want to write. I started my book and then my laptop broke.... speaking of which, I can finally get it fixed! I want to be more engaged, more present in real life... not just the digital world. This next year I want to keep resisting, but in a way that effects change. In a way that doesn't find itself only rooted in long-winded vents, but in real action. I want to be one of those: "don't bring me a problem, bring me a solution" people. The time for complaining is over. I'll have two daughters to raise in this world and for them, it's time I step it up. Who else is ready to clutch their pearls with me?
1 Comment
Wendy
12/12/2017 02:58:08 pm
I never make resolutions, as a rule. But these are do-able. In fact, I hope they are theraputic. Some people have work -out buddies ...I resolve to be someone's (your?) resolution -buddy.
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