I long for faith
That sure and unbroken chain
An armor and an anchor
Instead of questioned truth and rancor
Knowing in my heart it may not be all right
Probably won’t be all right
I long for blindness
Its easy mask and forgiving face
That generous enveloped dark
Instead I see the gaslight’s spark
Exhausting, though a fan I must choose to flame
Probably a dying flame
I long for voicelessness
An excuse to stay mute in trials
That small blessing to rest my lungs
Instead of screaming into a void
Facing judgment with every moment I avoid
And every moment I speak up
I long for deafness
A reason to give up on all that grieves
A respite from that pressure I perceive
That I’m not doing, never do enough
Is never, ever, unendingly enough
In a movement destined for death
I long for sleep
Gracious, darkening sleep
In which my tired bones won’t be met with stares
That fabric of unity that tears
While this fight rages on against the real enemy
I regret to forgive, to just live, just be me
In a moment of national grief
I long for infection
Abandoned resurrection
But know it’s simply emptiness awaiting
Every moment I’m not participating
In this moment of unending fear and turmoil
As red white and blue reaches its boil
I long for faith
I long for faith
Author: AR
Energized Exhaustion
My body is breaking down on me a little bit as I round the final corner of this pregnancy. I hit third trimester a week from tomorrow and I’m feeling it already.
But I think a lot of that is due to how hard I’ve been pushing myself. I’ve pared down to just one client as I prep for baby, but in my spare time, I’m doing a lot of political work. Getting the SuperPAC (Millennials for Progress!) off the ground, trying desperately to fundraise for it, training on voter registration, networking for the PAC, running the social media, etc. I also just went to Arena Academy, 5 of the busiest, most tiring, and most inspiring/educational experiences of my life – where I learned how to run campaigns for Progressive candidates, surrounded by some of the most passionate and hardworking people I’ve ever met. I was terrified to go alone, be around all those strangers, and make it happen. And bless my ever-patient husband for being a single dad–over his birthday, no less–to give me the opportunity. I am so grateful for the experience.
Meanwhile, my Baby #1 is growing like a weed. Even at 2.5, he’s still the sweetest little guy. He has his moments, of course, but overall, he is kind, loving, hilarious, and a smarty pants. All a mom could ever ask for. I can’t wait to see the man he becomes (although I’d like to keep him a baby for a while longer). He is potty-trained during the day and we’re working on nighttime – a day I thought may never come, as we’ve been giving it a shot since he showed signs of readiness.
It’s not all roses, of course. B and I are going through a lot of work stress and obviously things are nutty. But I’ve been feeling blessed lately with a healthy pregnancy and exhaustion I can feel really proud of.
As far as my bucket list of things to do, I may not ever run for public office – I don’t think it’s my skillset. But what I can do, and will do, is give my all to elect the people I believe in.
Also – we own chickens now, and are just waiting on the damn eggs!
Progress Update
For those still following this blog (and it’s likely just me), I’m in a pretty good place right now. I just turned 32 and my kid is good (if high-maintenance), my husband is happy, work is going well (although a bit overwhelming, still), and we’re in the final month of a full basement renovation (which can’t come soon enough). We have traveled this year, done lots of work, had some fun, and I’ve done a ton of volunteering and advocacy work. I’m working on starting a PAC with a friend of mine, and also going to be doing some volunteering with Planned Parenthood Southeast.
My biggest goal as we approach the 2020 election isn’t just to back a candidate I’m passionate about, but get younger people–particularly Gens Y and Z–out to vote, and to help them understand why this election MATTERS to them. It means the difference between clean air or dirty air. It means they drown in debt forever and never retire, or they raise their kids in a world in which those kids can live their own lives rather than take care of their aging, still-working parents. It means having access to the healthcare they’ve neglected because they simply can’t afford it.
In any case, I’ve also been slowly, if not always intentionally, chipping away at my before-40 bucket list. Check it out!
- Added a new state to Handstands Across America (Oklahoma)
- Took Cameron to a place that’s non-English-speaking (Mexico City and Oaxaca – arguably one of the best trips we’ve ever taken, period!)
- We’ve getting close to donating $10k this year to charity… I think we’re at roughly $5k. I imagine we’ll hit this goal at least by the end of next year.
- Own chickens – we have 5 backyard chickens now and no regrets so far! They’re about 3 months old.
- And my big, secret goal… I got my MBA! I graduated a few weeks ago from Southeastern Oklahoma State University. Very proud and super tired.
There you have it. Rocking and rolling. Once we get out from under the basement, I’m hoping I can get after more of those financial goals. But you know what they say about your best-laid plans…
The Subtle Art
I’m on an adventure with my husband and kid, and it’s been lovely in many ways. In other ways, it’s tougher than I anticipated. It’s not a vacation: it’s a working vacation. For me, that meant cordoning off days in which I would be available and for Brandon, that meant doing his best to keep up a full-time gig on the road. In Mexico. With a two-year-old.
We’ve had a blast, but he’s tough to wrap my head around. Stressed, overwhelmed, sick. I don’t know whether to be supportive or tell him to “snap out of it.” I’ve lately been leaning toward the latter as I spend hours entertaining our toddler while he sends “just one more email.”
I’m trying to be the person I read about the other week – the person who “doesn’t give a fuck.” The person who doesn’t let things stress them out, shrugs and lets things roll off her back. It’s hard when my toddler throws a tantrum in a restaurant in Oaxaca and I’m thinking about how we’re “those” tourists; giving the U.S. a bad name and what is wrong with us letting our 2-year-old watch “Monsters, Inc” at the table so we can all eat in some semblance of peace? The obnoxious people who buy the spinny toy at the market so the kid will stop screaming? This is not the mother I want to be, and yet, I am. And I do give a fuck.
This trip has left me with a lot on my mind, which is kind of the opposite of where I’d hoped to be. I’ve removed toxic and unreciprocated friendships from my life this year and have begun to build new ones – particularly with those who share my values, my passion, and my interest in connecting (although, Dione, I am TERRIBLE at being present lately).
Politics, per usual, is garbage, although I’m excited to see the field of candidates of my party growing like a field of tulips in a desert. My mystery side project is heating up and nearing its end; a project I’ve been working on for nearly a year and am excited to complete. I turn 32 in a few months and I am perilously close to missing certain goals, but I’m making new ones, so it’s okay. I’m considering hip hop classes and improv workshops. I want to rediscover me outside of my kid. For his sake and my own.
Nevertheless, I know I’ve got a good one. He is kind, he is smart and playful. He’s funny. He has all my bad habits: entitlement (UCK), a love of television (working on it–my, how quickly it happens), a penchant for cursing (today, a ball almost rolled into a sewer and he shouted, “JESUS CHRIST!”–not the best idea in a heavily Catholic country). He also has some of my strengths: perseverance, goofiness, deep love, a strong will. Other traits not inherited by me include coordination, athleticism, and a very broad palette (Brandon said the other day, “He either has an extremely refined palette or no tastebuds at all.” He later tried to eat the helmet off a Lego man). Despite my best efforts, he is spoiled. Not indulged at every turn but spoiled by our lifestyle: dinners out, trips, treats. It can simply be difficult to avoid privilege when your parents have it. The one plus I’ll put in our category is that we are passionate about activism and diversity. Not only does he come to every march and protest, Cam understands, at barely two years old, that he is not alone on this planet. Today, he played with a little girl who spoke not a lick of English, and they became friends, teaching each other “hello” and “thank you” in their own languages. He waves at everyone and says “Adios” and “Gracias.” He hears another language surround him, and he plays at home with people on the playground who don’t necessarily look like him. His best friend has two mommies. We are raising a good kid. A real good kid.
Being a mom is a constantly-evolving, yet rewarding, challenge. Being a woman with a career, particularly one that is self-made, is also an evolving rewarding challenge. Being a wife lately has, frankly, been mostly a challenge. But such is the tide of ebbs and flows of a relationship. You love hard and you weather the storm.
My focus this year is on personal growth. Feeling better, doing better, staying active for me, getting back to my core desire of a work-life balance (versus what’s now a work-work-work balance), and being a better mom to my kid. Part of that means not being swallowed whole by him. And that’s been the most difficult thing of all.
Days Gone By
Close the door on days gone by
Favor lost, too late to try
Betrayal’s ripe, emotions high
Sad that now this means goodbye
Force me when you steal the show
To be the roadie, set in tow
I had to serve the final blow
In naked rage, I served it low
I regret the way we died
But feel relieved to end the lies
Omission serves its own refrain
When battered hearts become remains
I needed time to test your gaze
Waited for your turn of phrase
To tell me you would count me in
As I had counted you, a friend
Jealous odor foul in air
The friendship fabric starts to tear
Goodbye to you, and you, and her
We’ll part with echoed awkward words
I’ll sate my hunger other ways
Plenty more to fill my plate
But I’m still haunted by the ways I tried
Sacrificed now to days gone by
Talking Shit and Learning Lessons
I really screwed up this week. In a fit of anger, I vented about a friend to a mutual friend of ours (over text, no less). She had opened the door by inquiring about the status of my friendship with this other person, and I exploded. Word-vomited all over the phone. All the anger I had been storing up came out. And I meant every word of it, but the delivery was awful. It was stark and naked and furious. It was full of hurt and stemmed from what I saw as betrayal. My back had been broken from a recent straw and I vented to someone I shouldn’t have.
I never would have thought this mutual friend would immediately share my texts with the person I was upset with. Had I wanted to confront her, I would have done so in a much kinder and thoughtful way. But here my raw feelings were, laid bare and angry, and now I’ve lost several friendships. I have no regrets cutting out the person who had zero concerns sharing my innermost thoughts with someone they would hurt. And I honestly know that the feelings I had that caused such anger were real. They weren’t baseless. And I’m still hurting. But I don’t think of myself as a mean person and I was. So today, I grieve. I grieve for the possibility of ever rekindling a love and trust again for or from the friends I’d had. And I grieve for the kind person I thought I was, which I’m clearly not. Anger gets the best me sometimes. And it’s vile.
It’s been a hard year. That’s where a lot of this came from; this fury. I’ve gone on literally 30 business trips this year and recently returned to have my son clinging to me like a caged monkey, terrified I would leave again and not come back. Politics have taken a serious toll on my mental health, and the election I had invested everything in went the wrong way. I’ve gone through a seriously deep depression, which I had asked for help with from this friend, and she never followed up. B and I have been in an utter panic over childcare because we just don’t have enough resources to cover all the last-minute stuff that seems to happen. Work with my main client has been rough and I’ve been concerned about the future of the company. I’ve been a maid of honor and have been breaking my back (and wallet) to throw two bachelorette parties and a bridal shower (not that I’m upset about it – just another spinning ball). My child is in a very rough stage where he’s impossible to please and even more impossible to keep in one place for more than 30 seconds at a time (if he’s not running through a tunnel screaming joyfully, he’s on the floor rolling around like a worm and throwing a tantrum). I’ve had challenges with extended family. I’ve been taking classes outside of work. I’ve been really upset about my body image.
I felt like for all of the giving my heart had offered her, my friend didn’t know the first thing about me or any of my plights, nor did she care. I don’t know if that’s the reality but it’s certainly how it felt.
I don’t know where I go from here. I can’t say my feelings about the past have changed, so maybe it’s all for the best. I had a really good talk with the friend I hurt about everything, but the nerves are very raw on both sides and I’m not sure if we’ll move forward. I am deeply grateful she, while very hurt, was understanding about why I vented and knows how sorry I am that I brought a mutual person into it.
As human beings, we have some true evil inside of us. A yellow puss that runs through our hearts and backs up until the pressure is relieved. If you have a long-standing issue with someone, I encourage you to address it in a productive way, lest you do what I did and realize what an asshole you are.
Be kind. Be smart. Be suspicious. Be forgiving, and be apologetic. And if you can’t be all of those things, at least choose three.
The Village
I’m not someone who asks for favors. When I ask you to help me out, it’s because I’m desperate. Feeling indebted to others is one of the things I despise most about being a human in a world with other humans. I will be the first to jump to your aid, but I much prefer the transactional nature of financial exchanges over asking for charity.
I think that’s where you’ll find the crux, here: I look at favors like charity. Like asking friends for a helping hand makes me weak or dependent. Like I can’t take care of myself or my family.
Similarly, we don’t have family that lives close to us. Our nearest immediate family members are a 2 hour drive away, which is nice when Brandon and I need to get out for a full night or have backup care for business trips. But in case of an emergency, our options are limited. Paid sitters aren’t available last-minute much of the time. Sometimes, shit happens.
I was stuck on the tarmac the other night on a flight that wasn’t taking off. I was more than three hours delayed when I realized I wouldn’t make it back in time for Brandon to make it to his final hockey game of the season. He is the goalie, so if he doesn’t play, the team doesn’t play – especially if he drops out last minute. He of course wouldn’t have left Cameron alone while I was flying back, but we were in a real jam because he had to get out the door.
Enter The Village. Through gritted teeth, I texted 2 of my friends and Brandon texted another set to see if someone would mind coming over on a Thursday night to sit at our house while Cam slept and I worked to get home. Brandon even offered to take him to someone else’s house so as not to inconvenience anyone too much.
The friends he texted, friends we have had for years, refused due to “an early morning,” as though we had asked them out for drinks rather than reaching out in an emergency. I have never been so floored that one of the only favors we’ve ever asked of them was rejected so soundly when we were really in between a rock and a hard place.
One of the people I texted was at work (nurses–the nerve, huh?!) and the other was someone I had been MIA from for a couple months. I had been thinking about her recently and how I hadn’t been the greatest friend because I was traveling so much I hadn’t checked in. I felt terrible asking her for a favor, particularly in light of all that, but she was instantly at our house while her husband stayed with their kiddo. “That’s what moms do,” she said. “We’re a village!”
It’s moments like this that remind you how much friendship truly means, and what a blessing it is to have a village. Moms, particularly those without family close by, sometimes end up in jams. I remember my parents asking our neighbors to watch me in the middle of the night when my brother was born. You pick the kids up at school when someone is stuck. In the case of our nanny share, the host family’s moms were more than happy to watch Cam for an extra couple hours while Brandon was stuck in some horrendous traffic back from Nashville. It’s just what you do. I would do the same in a heartbeat for any of them.
This experience also reminded me how important it is to cultivate relationships with the people that matter to you, and to distance yourself from those who don’t share your values. I am so grateful to have a community of loved ones–my chosen family–and I’m making it a pledge this year to not take them for granted. And maybe to get a little less freaky about asking for favors. But I’ll still never want to.
Who wants to be ordinary in a crazy mixed-up world?
Let’s do a quick recap of where things stand, as I sit about halfway past 31 (WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?) and actively working on the rest of the items on my list. I realize as I made this, I was being pretty ambitious. But I think it’s possible.
In other news, the fam is good and business is chugging along nicely. Here are some of the latest pics from life – can you believe my baby is almost 2?
Yeah, I friggin’ saw Obama and yeah, he friggin’ waved at me!
Kathleen’s bachelorette party in Vegas!
TRAVEL A LOT
40. Machu Picchu. Duh.
39. Go to Australia.
38. Go to Africa.
37. Complete Handstands Across America. (To date, I’ve hit GA, SC, NC, TN, PA, WV, VA, FL, AZ, NY, NJ, CT, AL, CO, IL, and WY.)
I’ve added Nevada – check it out! I need to get MD because we went there and I forgot to take a pic. We have family up there.
36. Take Cameron to a place that’s non-English-speaking.
We will be going to Mexico City and Oaxaca as a family in March!
35. Take my mom on a vacation.
MAKE SOME MONEY
34. Increase my income by 10% at least one year.
I doubled my income this year.
33. Attend at least 5 networking events each year.
I think I’m on track with this. It’s amazing how small and incestuous my industry is!
32. Take a continuing education course in a related field.
I’m knocking this out for sure. And I’m learning a ton.
BE A GOOD MOM
31. Help Cameron with his homework. Even when I don’t understand it.
30. Log at least one solid moment where I go, “My kid made the choice to do the RIGHT thing.”
29. Tell Cameron EVERY SINGLE DAY that I love him.
BE A GOOD WIFE
28. Show Brandon at least once a month how much I really appreciate him – even when he’s driving me COMPLETELY INSANE for whatever reason.
I think I’ve been pretty decent at this one!
27. Have a date night alone with Brandon at least once a month.
We haven’t been great about this but we’re working on it!
DISCONNECT
26. Give up Facebook (or whatever the hot thing of the moment is) for a SOLID month.
I already did this, but I’m taking another couple months off for the holidays, and it’s been LOVELY.
25. Go on at least 10 family outings completely without my phone.
24. Turn off the TV for a month. Before 30, I struggled to do this for a week. Let’s up the game.
STAY HEALTHY
23. Run another 15k.
22. Take fitness classes at least once a week for 6 months – jazzercise, dance, Zumba, kickboxing, yoga… whatever.
Um yeah, probably need to get on this.
21. Go a month without alcohol.
This one too.
20. Go a month without bread.
BE ADVENTUROUS
19. Participate in a big cultural event (like I wanted to before 30 :).
18. Run for a public office.
17. Learn another new skill (welding, embroidery, calligraphy, etc).
CHILL OUT
16. Do absolutely nothing for a full weekend.
15. Write in a journal every day for a month.
14. Read a few more classic books.
13. Go on vacation somewhere that’s purely relaxing, not necessarily an “adventure” destination, just to enjoy it.
BE A GOOD FRIEND
13. Send care packages to 10 friends for no good reason.
12. Check in more often on friends who are going through crappy times.
Really trying my best to do this. I probably need to get better, though.
PROTECT MY INVESTMENTS
11. Get my retirement savings to $500k by age 40.
On track for this, at least early on. We added about $40k this year.
10. Diversify my investments – BitCoin? International real estate? Etc?
We have some solid cash in crypto, and I don’t love how it’s doing, but we’re in it for the long haul. Also hoping to move into real estate in the next couple years.
9. Keep 6 months worth of savings in the bank “just in case.”
I don’t know that we’ve hit this (other than if you count our savings for a basement renovation and our retirement, which I don’t), but we have maybe 3 solid months right now.
8. Keep, and stick to, a freakin’ budget for 6 months (to start).
7. Start a trust fund for Cam, and keep his college money saving.
6. Get smarter about investing – take a class in stock trading or similar.
5. Donate $10k to charity/a good cause.
We’re at $1k at this point to the Stacey Abrams campaign, plus a variety of different charity donations, but we probably need to up this.
WOAH, BUDDY
4. Flip/renovate a house.
3. Own chickens.
2. Move internationally for a period of time.
1. This one is my secret. But I expect to reveal it next year.
Stolen
I’ve been extremely busy the last few months, splitting my time between work, traveling 2-3 days a week, momming, and being a super active volunteer for the Stacey Abrams for Governor campaign.
I canvassed (phone and in person), donated a ton of money, went to event after event, cheered her on at the debate, even rapped on MARTA. I met Stacey, heard John Lewis speak, high-fived Will Ferrell, and Obama even waved at me. So those things were pretty cool.
I also made an amazing friend, Brit, who runs Millennials for Abrams and is an absolute POWERHOUSE of a woman. I cannot wait to see where she takes things. As no indirect part of her efforts, young voters came out at 4x what they did in previous elections. 400%+ in Georgia. That’s freaking amazing.
But I can’t begin to even explain what we were fighting against. With the Secretary of State running his own campaign, you hear about suppression but it’s hard to contextualize without seeing it for yourself.
I saw it for myself.
I volunteered as a nonpartisan poll watcher at Booker T. Washington High School in Fulton County and I watched, slack-jawed, as 76 people–roughly 8% of the total voters–were forced to vote provisionally. 8 people were turned away to other precincts because the location had been begging for additional provisional materials that didn’t arrive until an hour and a half after they had run out. Every single person who voted provisionally was a person of color – almost all were Spelman students. This was happening all over the state, primarily for people of color and students.
The students and the poll workers did nothing wrong. The students were registered but simply had been purged, or never put, on the voter rolls. After the election, we have heard of thousands of provisional ballots going missing.
The machine numbers at Booker did not match the list of machines the county provided. One machine broke during someone’s voting process. A check-in machine was not functional during the first 2 hours of voting, when 40 people had lined up starting at 6:30am to get in the doors right away.
It was egregious. It was downright wrong. It was most certainly intentional and illegal. And it was all in the name of the guy running the election cheating to win.
I’ve heard a lot since he claimed victory (that is actually still out for debate as provisional ballots come in more and more every day). “Suck it up, buttercup” is a line touted by the Right, as is the idea that somehow we are cheating by wanting to count every vote (“He won fair and square!”). This is downright bullshit.
Seeing it all happen in front of my eyes–and also witnessing the total lack of surprise from everyone involved–was eye-opening, to say the least. My initial reaction was, “That’s just not fair!” Well, welcome to the world of everyone without privilege. Welcome to the world of every person of color. “It’s not fair!” Well, of course it’s not. It never is.
I wrote a little song to get my feelings about the situation out. It’s been years since I’ve written anything… it requires just the right mood and passion. But last week, I felt that passion. I felt that anger. I felt that fury and sense of injustice. And I can only continue to keep fighting so this never happens again.
Riptide
Don’t give me reasons
For how you played the better game
It’s all just treason
When the candle lights the flame, baby
Fuck you and judge you
And give me reason to care
CHORUS
You fucking monster
Won’t let you haunt her
With your slow-cracking smile
You play the games of a child
I won’t let you win this time
As we wind down the ride
Riptide
Don’t stand there stupid
Pretending like the crowd can’t see
You wrote the ballot
And then declared your victory, baby
Stay clean, we’re making
A case to show you who we are
CHORUS
Catch me on the other side
Milquetoast baby, rip this tide
I will take it all in stride
‘Cause you’ll find
We’re gonna fuck you up this time
We’re gonna catch you in the riptide
CHORUS
Tantrums, Trials, and Trying To Live Without Bread
There are seven distinct, expanding tendrils of my life right now that are getting progressively more difficult to regulate:
Motherhood, work, marriage, politics, other responsibilities, money, and myself.
The balance, as everyone knows, is a myth. You are always failing at at least one of these, if not all.
Lately, I’ve been failing myself the most. I’m eating badly, not exercising, sick, and exhausted. I’m away from Cameron so much with work travel that I feel total mom guilt taking any time away from him outside of that. I gave up bread for a month (check-mark on my list!) and thought I might die.
Other responsibilities are piling up as well. I’m hosting a wedding shower this coming weekend (and expecting a few quite judgy guests), a bachelorette party two weekends from then, going on a work trip in between, another work trip/combo family birthday weekend trip for a friend the following weekend, and then finally escaping with my family to North Carolina for a few days in November. The travel has been absolutely nuts lately and every time we all leave, we’ve got to worry about how our pets will be cared for, getting everyone paid, getting work under control, and making sure invoices go out on time.
I am also the sole accountant for Brandon and me, so every Friday is invoicing day. If we don’t send invoices, we don’t get paid. I have some continuing education classes I’m taking online, constant treading water, saving for home renovations, and so much more.
And then there are the tantrums. Oh my God, the tantrums. The fury, anger, spitting, crying, emotional outbursts from someone who cannot seem to regulate himself. The entitlement I’ve witnessed recently is out of control. We are clearly doing something wrong.
Also, my toddler is throwing tantrums.
BOOM.
No, but seriously, my kid has turned into a monster the last couple of weeks. His tantrums have become frequent and epic. Tonight, there were no less than six meltdowns, one because he pointed to something on the table, I did not know what he was pointing at, and it destroyed his entire world.
Most of the time, I’m pretty cool about tantrums, but it’s getting really waring lately, particularly being sick and exhausted from everything else. Cam is awesome but he definitely knows how to be a little butt.
Just ready for things to slow down… why do I do this to myself?
