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.
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.
My children are growing up right before my eyes. I’m enjoying that this has made the day to day struggle of keeping them fed, clothed, and alive (let’s be honest) easier. I don’t think anyone would argue that taking care of a newborn, or keeping your house or toddler intact, is no easy feat. But, as these precious babies grow into older school age children, the weight of motherhood responsibility can, at times, also seem really daunting.