five things | from the week that would not end

I'm, by no means, an ostrich. I don't believe in burying ones' head in the sand in order to avoid a shit storm because as soon as you bring your head up for fresh air, it's still going to smell like shit, ya know?

But I could also use a break from all of the heaviness from this. Beating a dead horse seems counterproductive at this point. Of course, I still have a lot of thoughts about the election that I'm still trying to process-- soooo many thoughts. But the feelings those thoughts bring up are damn near exhausting the fuck out of me. Compound that with the time change and a teething terrible-not-yet-two-two-er and... well... it's been a week. 

So are here are five things from the week when all the orange shit hit the red, white, and blue fan that aren't (necessarily) about the orange shit hitting the red, white, and blue fan. 

1. Watching their sisterhood blossom into a little gang of two has been one of the most unexpected honors of motherhood. I really believe that they are just as lucky to have each other as I am to have them. 

2. I've always likened Glenn Beck to a hemorrhoid on the asshole of humanity so what I'm about to tell you may serve as further evidence that hell has officially frozen over. Mr. Beck said something that didn't immediately make vomit rise up into my mouth. A few somethings, actually. Entire articles, in fact. I give you: Exhibit A, B, and C. I implore you to read them, particularly Exhibit A. (I know, I know. I couldn't believe it either. I don't know if I should take this as a sign that there is hope or that we're all doomed. If Ann Coulter starts spewing actual facts or not being a racist and self-serving asshole, I may seriously need to be put out of my misery.) (Also, please, please, please do not mistake this for sleeping with the enemy because the bottom line is that I don't view Trump supporters as the enemy. Rather, I find their candidate deplorable. No, I do not respect the President-Elect but I do respect the Presidency and am doing my part to better understand where the other half is coming from and why they feel the way they do. Their concerns are valid-- as valid as my own and, at some point, we, the left-leaning, must decide to believe that not all 60,000,000 Trump supporters are racist, sexist, jerks. We must actually practice being stronger together, not just using it as political rhetoric. END RANT.) 

3. When Edie gets really excited, she does this thing with her feet that we've dubbed Happy Feet. 

PS. Elaine Benes is my spirit animal.

4. I couldn't think of a better and more necessary time to take the plunge and drink the kool-aid. This week I began reading Glennon Doyle Melton's Love Warrior (of Momastery) and all I can say is that not is the kool-aid delicious, it's quenching the thirst of my parched soul. I get it; I now understand all of the fuss behind this woman who has dedicated her life to the underdog, to the person who believes that they are alone in the Battle of Life, who are desperately searching for the Path of Belonging. Now more than ever, the world needs more women (and men) like Doyle who support all journeys, who believe in the greater good that comes from acknowledging and giving a powerful voice to even the darkest skeletons in our own hidden closets.  

5. I miss New York. 

november 9th, 2016

"The worst thing that can happen in a democracy-- as well as in an individual's lifetime-- is to become cynical about the future and lose hope." -Hillary R. Clinton

Yes, I'm in shock and, yes, I'm angry. Yes, I'm nervous and fearful. And, yes, I'm completely bewildered at how it actually happened. I woke up this morning unable to form sentences, unable to process the reality we are now all facing. I took my kids to school, I went to work, I went through the motions, and I cried at various times throughout the day when I needed the release. I was in mourning-- and still am.

All day, I felt like I was passing through the various stages of grief, just as one goes through after having lost a dear loved one. Except, I was morning the feared loss of social progress and what was put in its' place: the political equivalent of that weird, close-minded has-an-opinion-about-everything-yet-no-solution-to-speak-of uncle (through marriage, of course) who somehow manages to royally piss off every one in the family, even the cat who can only be bothered to lick his own ass. He's that awkward and inappropriate familial imposter who showed up a few years ago and refuses to leave, sometimes standing a little too close, and whose crude, repulsive, and disruptive behavior forces you to spend the majority of holiday dinners profusely apologizing to other guests for.

Anybody familiar with a guy like that? 

Yeah, me neither.

I will also not place blame onto anyone, though it may make me feel better. I will not bash President-Elect Trump or Third Party voters. I will not be what I vehemently despise which is a sore and arrogant loser. I will not accuse Trump voters of being ignorant, bigoted, uneducated, or even arrogant assholes because, according to polling data, most of them aren't. What I will blame is the wall we have allowed to divide us from them, you from a person you have only made assumptions about, and the rising fear ignorance allows to breed and flourish. 

Do I wish the outcome had been different? Fuck yes, I do. Of course, I do. Half of the country is completely heartbroken and I'm no exception. I also respect the system of democracy and not just when it serves me or plays out in my favor. I respect it always, even when I resent it. I will not say he is #NotMyPresident because the reality remains: he IS my President-elect. 

When giving her concession speech this morning, the person I believed in and casted my vote for asked me to give President-Elect Trump a chance to lead this great and beautiful and opportunistic country and, in honor of her and her lifelong-devotion to the families of this country, I will try my hardest to honor her and do just that. I may spend every single day of the next four years questioning how on planet Earth we got here but I will give the man-- the man who the people of the country I claim to be a patriot of elected in a peaceful and free election-- a chance to do as he promised. During what I can only describe as an uncharacteristic and surprisingly gracious acceptance speech, he promised to the people, even the people who didn't support him or his platform, to be a president for ALL Americans and aid the reuniting of this fiercely divided country of citizens. 

Because I stood with her, I will give him a chance to do his job.

Meanwhile, I will also be doing mine. 

I have not been granted the privilege to wallow in defeat. I woke up the morning on November 9th, 2016 the same human I was when I went to bed the evening of November 8th, 2016. In spite of our country's newfound reality, my resolve as a mother will not be weakened, only strengthened. My determination will never waver, only become more steadfast. My conviction has always been, is, and will always remain unconditional.

My job is to raise decent humans and, goddammit, that's what I'm going to do. 

An election doesn't have the power to determine the kind of mothers and fathers we are or the kind of people we raise unless we allow it to. However, the divisiveness cannot be ignored. The uncertainty and fear many of us are feeling is obvious and palpable and if we're as decent of a nation as we claim to be, we'll start learning from our mistakes and begin listening with humble ears. And we won't just listen to the people who speak as loudly as us, creating an even more deafening collective chorus of ignorance. We will shut our mouths, we will listen with an open mind, and we will attempt with every last damn fiber of our being to better understand what we need to in order to move forward and aid the healing of our wounded nation. 

And we will give a damn about what the other side has to say.

We can not and should not pass off someone else' existence as not our problem because it absolutely IS OUR FUCKING PROBLEM. You want to live in a country where each vote counts? Well, I suggest you start giving a shit about the person next door to you regardless of his or her skin color, nationality, gender, sexuality, or religion. I suggest you start giving all the damns about your neighbor because human decency wasn't up for a vote. Being a good person isn't a bi-partisan obligation. 

It's a fucking human obligation. 

Human decency can only be fostered by opening the window of your mind to the possibility that we are all capable of learning something from someone if we'd only turn our inherent prejudices off for a single minute and give people a platform to use their equally-important voice. Human decency is only facilitated by igniting what can be a painful conversation for many while also not being afraid to face a reality that looks vastly different from your own. Human decency is only implemented by planting a seed of tolerance, kindness, empathy, and one giant dose of humility in the minds and hearts of our children and by encouraging them to stop pointing fingers and to start extending their hearts in an effort to mend these fragile and broken relationships.

The one thing that gives me comfort through all of this is knowing how I can help contribute in making this world less of the scary shit hole it often reeks of: by doing my job. It can only begin with the job I swore my allegiance to over four and a half years ago-- the single most influential role in the history of our planet. 

I will contribute to society's betterment by being a mother who doesn't raise assholes. 

Motherhood is the job I promised my babies I would do my best at, no matter what odds were stacked against me. (Which, by the way, seem to be increasing with every passing day.) The moral obligation of not being an asshole and not raising assholes isn't only owed to the tiny people of tomorrow; it's owed to the human race if any of us want to live long enough to see anymore of it. Though it is challenging, it is our duty and of utmost importance to remain human even in times that feel starkly void of any semblance of humanity.

This is only my opinion but raising our children to understand one another' differences versus drawing arbitrary lines in the sand that only further divide us from them seems like the most logical place to start. Instilling in them an unparalleled level of tolerance in a world whose current and most recent attempt to legitimize intolerance is gaining momentum would be a very close second.

We must also lead by example with giant doses of empathy, humility, and good will towards others thrown in for good measure. We must show our kids that, above all else, doing the right thing is always the right thing to do. We must exemplify and over-emphasize the importance of being a good person, even to those who may not deserve it. Our integrity and commitment to what is right and just must always speak volumes louder than incorrigible and pervasive ignorance.

Some may label me as naive and I'd like to tell those people that I refuse to allow the outcome of an election to dampen my devotion to the greater good. I will not lose hope in the belief that, one day, we will be able to find a way to unite over the same differences that are currently tearing us apart and ripping us to shreds. 

Today, November, 9th, 2016, was a very difficult day to stomach for many. Collectively, we should not be disheartened. We simply can't afford it and, furthermore, doing so would be what I consider to be the real loss... to give up on one's own hope for a better tomorrow. 

Instead, I will invoke positivity and demand the same from the humans I'm raising by choosing November 9th, 2016 to be remembered as the day I was given the unique opportunity to explain to my oldest daughter the one thing I've always, always, always believed to be true and the one thing I will never, ever lose faith in: when faced with a choice, no matter the consequence, always choose love. 

November 8th, 2016

I remember Tuesday, November 4th, 2008 like it was yesterday. That morning, I cast my first vote (ever) for Barack Obama, a man who would end up becoming the first black President of the United States of America. I remember watching the counts come in and the states being called. I remember watching John McCain concede as gracefully as a true patriot ever could. As tears streamed down my face, I sat in silence, in utter disbelief at the weight of what was unfolding for our country. I was, quite literally, watching social progress unfold. I've never felt anything like it and I'm damn proud to have stood on that side of history.

Tomorrow night, I plan on standing on that same devoted side of history as I watch the glass ceiling shatter courtesy of Madam President-Elect Hillary Rodham Clinton.

When my girls are older and a country having been run by a woman is all they'll have ever known, I will tell them about the evening of November 8th, 2016. I will tell them that as they lay asleep in their beds, I sat on our living room watching a new path unveil itself for our country. I will tell them about a man who used fear and bigotry and oppression and tyranny as his platform. I will tell them about a man who made it obvious that his credo was self over country. I will tell them about a campaign that used hate as a shield until a united nation of people came together and proved that human decency-- not partisanship, not politics, not fear-- will always win.

I will tell them that I didn't just vote for me. I voted for them. I voted for the opportunities they've yet to take. I voted for the person they've yet to meet and the love they've yet to share. I've voted for the rights as women they've yet to invoke but could one day need. I voted for their future friends, their future partners, and even their future children-- my grandchildren. I will hug them tightly and tell them that this country is a privileged one to call home, not because of the scale of the opportunities we are afforded, but because of the people who inhabit it alongside us.

I will tell them that what it has and always should boil down to is people.

Not just the people who look like us or think like we think. Not just the people whose experiences we understand or whose tax bracket aligns with our own. Not only the people whose political beliefs we agree with. Not only the people who have our backs because we have theirs. Not only the people who can do something for us in return. Not only the people we come into contact with on a daily basis. Not just our neighbors. Not just friends. Not just our family.

People. 

 

All of them. 

 

Tomorrow night, when my anxiety finally subdues and when history is made, when this political circus has FINALLY concluded and the Trump train loses steam, when reality strikes that this man is no longer a threat to the social progress it has taken a century for our country to achieve, the tears will undoubtedly fall once again. And in honor of the momentous occasion I'll have been afforded to witness in my lifetime, I will open a bottle of expensive champagne given to me by one of my best friends and strongest Nasty Women I know. (Looking at you, Allie.) I will drink champagne in honor of my daughters, in honor of women and families everywhere, in honor of hope, in honor of human decency, and in honor of the people.

All of them. 

*If none of this goes down like I hope it will, I'll use the bottle for an equally important cause: putting myself out of my own misery. I'm kidding, of course. Let's all just hope we never have to find out because it'd be a damn shame to waste a perfectly amazing bottle of Veuve Clicquot.

EDIT: I'd like to add this video of Louis C.K. on Conan explaining why he's voting for Hillary. Obviously, I agree with him but I think, right about now, we could all use a good laugh. "We just need a tough bitch mother who just does shit." Basically, yes. 

five things from the week

Well, I'm currently in the process of consuming a cinnamon bun bigger than my head. (YOLO.) It's Friday, after all. Here are this week's five things.... 

1. This is Mo. She's doing a gymnastic floor routine in our backyard though it looks more like an interpretive modern dance performed by someone with tourettes. She's so awesome. This age is so awesome. She makes life so very awesome.  

2. Halloween 2016 in a nutshell: (1) Glitter equals anxiety. (2) When will the Elsa phase end? A better question is will it ever end? (3) Mo sorted by color and counted her candy no less than four times within 24 hours of acquiring it. I think she may suffer from either mild OCD tendencies or serious trust issues with me and her Twix bars. (4) Per Mo, we have been ordered to decorate our house next year with the most obnoxious orange lights, skeletons, graves, and blow-up goblins and ghosts next year "in order to scare away all the kids so we can keep the candy for ourselves, mom." She also suggested that I sit out on the porch to "scare the babies and parents really good if the blow-up thingy's don't work." When I asked her if I should be dressed up as something scary in order to carry out my duties, she cocked her head, looked at me through squinted eyes and said, "I don't fink so, mom. You can just dress normal and you'll scare them real good all by yourself, I know it." Well, gee, thanks, ya' terd. 

3. On Tuesday morning, my pre-ordered signed copy of Ina Garten's latest culinary masterpiece, Cooking For Jeffrey, finally arrived on my doorstep. As I assumed, it's only served to solidify my belief that she is the Julia Child of our generation. I poured over its' pages immediately after ripping open its' box, like some hormone-driven tween reading the latest issue of Tiger Beat. I even shushed Mo at one point which she wasn't very happy about. No doubt that all will be forgiven when she is sipping on some of Ina's frozen hot chocolate this weekend. 

4. Over the span of one month, Edie has mysteriously knocked out a tooth, gotten Hand Foot and Mouth Disease, cut two top canine teeth with her other two making their way up, and this week fought off a fun bout of double pink eye. (Speaking of... Have you ever tried giving a baby who is terrified of anything even remotely close to resembling medicine near her body ever since you had to hold her down to give her ear drops after her tubal procedure? It's a full-body work out. She screams NO, mah-meeee, nooooo. Peeeze noooooo! the entire time while breaking my heart simultaneously.) Seriously, though, I am pooping my pants with anticipation for flu season. 

5. Is anyone else blown away by the fact that Thanksgiving is only twenty days away?!? This year, we're hosting dinner for our entire family at our house and I'm so, so excited. Hosting Thanksgiving dinner has been a dream of mine and I finally get to do it! I'm already planning the roasted lamb-centered menu. I must confess that I kind of hate turkey. It's all because, growing up, my mom's family refused to break it to my great grandmother that her turkey was already dead before she murdered it in the oven. For over fifteen years, I pretended to enjoy that poor bird whose life was given at the expense of our bellies. Don't even get me started on her cardboard... I mean.... cornbread stuffing. Thankfully, I married a man whose Lebanese family lives for red meat and whose mother makes the best goddamned stuffing I've ever had in my life. *Tayta, if you're reading this.... I'll be more than happy to take an extra pan of stuffing as a hostess gift. 

perspective + aging

As of today, I'm four months shy of the big three-oh. When I was blissfully unaware of what adulting would look like, I used view thirty as the age when you've got it all figured out. As I inch closer and closer to this milestone, I realize that the only thing I've figured out is that I've got a little more than more than nothing figured out.

I believe that aging, in spite of all of its' shortcomings, is great. I may no longer look like a spring chicken but what I lack in tautness is made up for ten-fold with the giant dose of perspective only hindsight can afford us.  

As they say, whoever they are, hindsight is twenty-twenty. One thing hindsight has made painfully obvious is how unkind I've been to myself over the years. I've kicked myself when I've been down, I've beaten myself up for being human, and I've been ashamed of mistakes that did, in fact, all lead me to where I am.

Of course, one could argue that this lack of self-imposed grace only aided the process of becoming a better person or whateverthefuck. One could claim that it was all a part of of figuring out who I am and who I want to become and what work needs to be done in order to become her. One could (and many have) say that what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger which, I guess, is true. 

But does the ride to our destination really need to be so painful? Especially when we're the ones not only holding the keys, but also the only person who determines where we want to go and how we want to get there?

The only thing I've gleaned from the realization that I have been my own biggest worst enemy is that this narrative that is utter nonsense and complete bullshit. If I need anyone to like me, shouldn't that person be... I don't know... me? I'm the one who's got to spend a lifetime being me so I might as well become a person I like and like the person I'm becoming?

Right?

Right. 

If you've been following along here or The C-word for longer than a hot second, you've likely noticed that I'm a vat of self-deprecation. I've always found self-deprecation funny and I appreciate when a person doesn't have their head stuck so far up their own ass that they can't call a spade a spade. I'm also a firm believer that if people know you're in on the joke, rarely will you be the butt of it. The problem is that there is a thin line between self-deprecation and radiating abhorrent insecurity and self-angst and women, as a whole, tend to straddle that line.

For example, how many times have you deflected someone's compliment instead of graciously saying thank you? When someone bumps into you, how often do you apologize to them for simply being where you are supposed to be? How many times have you felt embarrassed by a person acknowledging a specific feature they find particularly striking or beautiful instead of appreciating the feature they find worthy of such praise? 

Do you see what I mean? WHY?

Now, I'm not saying we should all walk around responding, "yeah, I know" to kind strangers' compliments. However, as I creep up on the age I thought I'd know all that I'd ever need to know, the one thing I know for certain is that this shit needs to stop. When are we going to stop selling the idea that humility trumps self-love? When are we going to admit that maybe, just maybe, we're not only worthy of praise but worthy of self-acceptance? 

I, for one, am done.

I'm tired of apologizing. I'm sick of the excuses I so often give for SIMPLY BEING MYSELF. I'm exhausted from prefacing every thought or conversation I express with what I think those listening need to hear in order to not think less of me for thinking it. I'm through with feeling like I shouldn't, for whatever reason, like myself. 

I've spent almost thirty years getting to know myself and I've discovered that she sucks on occasion. She hasn't always been a peach and she hasn't always been kind. She hasn't always made the right decisions nor cared enough to even attempt to make a good one. She's been handed challenges and been defeated. She's been handed trials and walked away a champion. She's fought really fucking hard to achieve perspective and hindsight and she deserves to own it. She's high-maintenance (high quality), she's complicated (multi-faceted), and she's a walking contradiction on days that end with a -Y (mysterious). I have spent the last almost-thirty years getting to know me and you know what? 

I quite like her. 

And, in my humble opinion, there is no better 30th birthday present than the gift of self-acceptance.