It’s been a while since my last post. I’m understandably busy, but that’s not why I haven’t written anything. Well, that’s not entirely true, because I have written things — pages and pages — but I’ve not actually gotten around to actually posting them. Mostly because I’ve been too disgusted with the subject matter.
Being a stay-at-home mom doesn’t mean you’re oblivious to the world around you. It doesn’t mean that the stuff going on outside your home doesn’t matter anymore. Because it does. It matters more than ever. Because one day you’re going to have to send your children out there, so you sure as hell better know what you need to prepare them for.
I’m very fortunate to be able to surround myself with people who aren’t complete blithering idiots about everything, and that’s a big bonus for me. Because if there is one thing I despise more than willful ignorance it’s willful ignorance that’s convinced it knows everything it needs to. And you can’t argue with that. Arguing does no one any good if those arguing aren’t willing to change their minds. It serves no purpose. None. Because you can’t teach someone who already knows everything.
And when I look beyond my circle of loved ones, I often despair. The world is filled with greed, corruption, hypocrisy, fear, and hate. And I don’t just mean some mythical place Over There Somewhere. Everywhere. Here. Even in our own hearts. It is everything I do not wish for my children. And I can’t imagine that anyone would wish it for their children. Why would they? It’s debilitating and heartbreaking and exhausting. So why the hell do we allow it in ourselves?
We teach our kids more than we’ll ever know. The things we do and say to and around them will echo through their lives long after we ourselves have gone the way of all flesh. Turn on the news. Look around you. Is this what you want your children to become? Is this what you want your children to inherit? We owe it to them and ourselves and the whole of the world to be the things that we want for our children.
I’m convinced that we can do better than what we’re doing. That we can be better. What does it matter what someone else calls God? What does it matter what color someone’s skin is? What does it matter who someone loves? Really, honestly, what does it matter? Not a single damn thing.
I’m not an idiot. I know how this goes. Most people would rather do and think and believe what other people tell them to because they’re too lazy to have an opinion of their own. And just about anyone who got to a position to be able to do the telling was some kind of son-of-a-bitch or another. I know that. And that’s why my children will never rule the world.
Because I won’t stand for that kind of behavior.