Trumping: the final countdown

Graphic from Feminist Fight Club.

Should have known that Trump would bring me back to this blog after many long months.  Today I slept in until noon.  And woke up terrified, because I haven't done that in how many years? Ten? Today is rainy, I had only minimal plans for an amazing 24hrs+ and I'm scaling back even those.

As I've been blogging less, I've been living more.  And it turns out that when you show up, people ask you to show up more.  Now, my issue is finding balance.  I realized at the end of last weekend that I'd been running LB relentlessly-surely we can manage swim lessons, followed by a playdate, followed by a playdate at a drumming performance, followed by a birthday party.  And we got it all done, but with a lot of stern "put your shoes on NOW, we are going to miss the bus!" And for myself, I'm trying to figure out when I need quiet time vs. when I need activity. And, when I can drag LB around to another meeting and when I should just say no.  Right now I'm missing an activist art build that probably would have been a lot of fun to lie in my bed and drink another coffee and write to blogland.

In LB land: five is awesome, so chatty, so stubborn, so capable, so not throwing a tantrum because someone else pulled the cord on the bus.  She can swim! She can play well with friends.  At home she plays weird pretend games and makes houses for her animals out of magnatiles, and we play parcheesi and neither of us know the rules.  She started K at a nearby dual language charter school.  Sometimes I wait with her for the local bus and think "we could be home by now." But, the teachers and support staff are absolutely lovely, she's making friends and seems to like it there, and I have no big complaints-and I am a complainer by nature.

I've been reading to my dystopian stuff, real and imagined.  In non-fiction, I read Tim Tyson's Blood Done Sign My Name, which is a great read for race-liberal white folks.  The fiction that is sticking in my head is The Mandibles (liked it, but at times it felt a little Ayn Rand), and Octavia Butler's The Parable of the Sower-I am traumatized and in love.  Read this book!  I actually paid cash money to order the next book and another trilogy she wrote.

Projects: I was supposed to be taking Spanish classes, but then I got a BOOK CONTRACT with a reputable university press.  I am the worst ex-ac ever.

Work: out-of-control at the moment, but should calm down in a few weeks.  I'm trying to keep my anxiety in control.

Politics: I've been doing some work with a local anti-racist group.  I like them and it feels good to do. National politics: dear God.  Glad to know that the protection of white pussy is still a motivating value in American politics?  A million sighs...