I typically try to steer clear of political conversation whenever possible. I have family members on both sides of the party lines. I tend to find myself living somewhere in the middle. But I cannot and will not allow myself to remain silent on the hatred that is plaguing our once-great nation. It’s not news by now that our country is in a state of chaos.
Summer vacation is in full swing around here, and although Mother Nature has been a bit too generous with the rain, we’ve all adjusted well to less routine, more Rose’ and getting through our aggressive “Summer wish list.” Our kids are much more independent than in years past and in an effort to not overschedule them, they have been given the gift of a bit more freedom to pick and choose their activities (and when they would like to complete their daily chores.)
A couple weeks ago, my husband found out that he got accepted for a professional development program and was going to have to attend training in St. Paul, Minnesota for a weekend. When he asked me to join him on the excursion, I excitedly said yes! Room service, a whole lot of me-time, and exploring a new place? Who would turn that down?
I was happy for the thought of a weekend away from responsibility – until I realized that Minnesota is pretty far from good ol’ Eden NY and would require me getting on an airplane, a thought that pretty much paralyzed me.
“So we’re going to be THAT family?” my 14-year-old asked with a little smirk. “Yes. Yes, we absolutely are,” I smiled.
We were sitting around the dinner table – my three kiddos and I (If you can call them that at ages 24, 19 & 14) at one of the first family dinners we had eaten together in weeks. I was telling them of my new plans for more togetherness: Weekly family dinners and monthly family outings.
