Outrage, Hope & Fear

It was announced that Ted Nugent is headlining my local county fair this summer. He’s an aging 70s rock star who spouts hatred, misogyny, prejudice and alternative facts. I wrote a letter to the fair committee and said that after a decade of enjoying the event I won’t be bringing my kids this year. I’m disgusted that my community is hosting this a-hole. I’m pissed off. I’m…playing right into Ted Nugent’s hands.

Ted Nugent issued a statement in response to the controversy that said, “Only liars and America hating scumbags have a problem with me.” WTF? This pissed me off more. Then I get pissed about letting Ted Nugent piss me off. Then I think about how our culture is addicted to outrage, and how the media feeds our outrage, and I get even more pissed off at the whole circle of outrage…F-you, Ted Nugent, for setting me off.

school-girl-using-computerThe whole thing makes me feel like I should do more yoga and meditation. Then I feel guilty for not doing enough yoga and meditation. It’s exhausting. And I’m tired of feeling exhausted all the time. And this pisses me off all over again. Is this ironic? Or merely Alanis Morissette-ironic?

But then there’s the flip side. Let me switch gears for a moment. I’m also hopeful about certain things. Like my kids. They calm me and ground me. They are my hope and joy. I’m excited to watch them navigate toward their goals despite the inevitable obstacles and frustrations they will face. I’m excited when my son talks about politics – he’s twelve and he’s into politics! He wants to make the world a better place. (He also wants to play Fortnite all the time, but oh well.)

The smile on my daughter’s face is brilliant. It fills my heart. I love watching her think. It’s like magic. The greatest thing about being a mom is the love. There’s nothing like it. The worst part is the worry. It never ends.

Which brings me to my fears. Loss is my biggest anguish. Although loss is a normal part of life — we lose our keys, hair, money, friends, jobs, our way — some of us lose our children and that’s irreparable. The loss of my oldest son keeps me up at night and it’s why I live in two worlds at once. But I would still do everything the same even if I knew having him would end with loss — I would still suffer the enormous heartbreak if I could be his mom again. And I would move time and space to make it happen.

If I Were A Car

Used vehicle, one owner. 50K miles. Needs green-carbody work. Some rust. Runs good. All scheduled maintenance performed. Above base model trim level but not fully loaded. Good fuel economy. Some original factory parts missing, others replaced/repaired/upgraded. Fabric worn and faded. Entertainment package has AM/FM stereo cassette, CD/DVD. Has airbags, alarms and automatic warning system. Non-smoker. One accident. Garage kept. Good GPS. Big trunk. Spoiler. Solid and reliable. Great for a busy family. As is. No warranty.

My Bright Ideas

  1. science-teacher-blank-chalkboardThe Hundred Year-Old Diet: Only eat foods that existed 100 years ago. This would eliminate most processed food from the diet.
  2. Eat A Rainbow: Only eat foods that are red, orange, yellow, green, blue or purple. Preferably all on the same plate.
  3. Take a bag and a box to Savers every Wednesday. Do not buy more stuff.
  4. A bed larger than a California King so there’s enough room when everyone and the dog winds up there in the middle of the night.
  5. A real life and online hangout for women called “Coffee and Whine.”
  6. A food additive that gives farts colors so I can avoid walking into them in public, and know who to blame at home.
  7. A doorbell that doesn’t ring but instead shouts “This better be worth it!”
  8. Treadmills on the Metra.
  9. Bubble-wrap clothing for toddlers.
  10. The Steve Jobs Diet: Eat the same meals each day. Takes the stress out of calorie counting, nutrition and meal planning.