first things first, I'ma say all the words inside my head

a physical manifestation of my overflowing mind, care of our local flooding river

The river that runs through our town is at some crazy high levels right now, care of the nonstop rain we've been having. Locals are worried about flooded basements, while others are already suffering the effects from inaccessible roads and flash floods. Walking along the bike path the yesterday, some of the path was deep under water, while other parts were just a foot or so from disappearing in the gray, murky liquid.

As I look back at this photo of the river, it feels akin to my mind right about now. I wouldn't say that I'm overly anxious or stressed, thanks to the awesome power of to-do lists for helping me retain a sense of control over all the tasks that need attention. But there's no denying that the banks are about to overflow.

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My kids know the words "active shooter" in reference to drills they've experienced in school and the horrible news stories whose increasing frequency is just beyond disturbing. My ten-year-old somewhat proudly told me that now that he's in 4th grade, if there was a bad guy with a gun in the school, he and his classmates are to pick up books or stools or anything heavy to throw at the bad guy instead of hiding like they were supposed to do in 3rd grade.

Just let that fucking sink in a bit. We're instructing our children, many of whom aren't trusted to even be home alone yet, to fight with textbooks against shooters with assault rifles. The words that I have in response to this are profane, angry, and despondent. And they're rolling through my head ALL DAY LONG.

I honestly don't have anything new to add to the chorus of people crying out about the ease of access to such massively deathly weapons. But do know that I'm reading so many, so so so many, perspectives on these issues, a ton from other parents who feel as lost and helpless as I do.

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What is my purpose? That damn question keeps popping up again and again, and I don't know how to answer it. I know my role as a mom is the primary one in my life right now, and there are no negative feelings for me attached to that assertion. Beyond that, though, shouldn't I have something else that I contribute? I've been feeling adrift. What do I want to be when I grow up? Can I accept this level of accomplishment as my peak? What else can I do? Is this what a mid-life crisis looks like, sans the little red sports car, which would be useless and totally unappealing to me anyway?

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What will the next few years bring politically to our country? Are we living in the prequel to a dystopian novel right now without even realizing it? When I read that Florida lawmakers shut down any bills relating to gun control measures but push through efforts to require all schools to post the words IN GOD WE TRUST, how can I not think, "Well, that could have legit happened in the months leading up to the beginning of The Handmaid's Tale." Religion and politics mixing is a recipe for a totalitarian regime, and I don't want any part of that shit.

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Are our boys broken? I read something on the Facebook that made that declaration, and while it's a general and sweeping statement, I think there's something fundamentally solid there. Toxic masculinity isn't just the phrase du jour, and it's showing up in all the sexual misconduct stories, the angry rants of people fearing the loss of their perceived powers, and the violent acts of boys and men with weapons that can kill many in the blink of an eye. I am terrified for my daughter AND my sons. I'm trying. I have so little influence on this world outside the walls of my own home, but I am trying to teach all of my children to embrace empathy, to use their various positions of privilege to help others without it, to use their voices to express their emotions and opinions, and to shut their mouths and listen to those of others just as much. I don't want my daughter to say, "Me, too," and I sure as hell don't want my sons to cause someone else to say it, either. I know I can't control all the influences over them, but I can and do try to be one of the loudest. I live in fear that I won't be loud enough.

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Our firstborn, our guinea pig child, will graduate high school in a few months, then turn 18 later this summer. His future is pretty wide open right now, and while I know that is absolutely the right move in the immediate, I can't help but do as I've always done and project further into the future with my worries. I tell myself that his path will reveal itself in time, that we've always known that he needs more time than many others his age, that we will do for him what he needs without comparison to anyone else. But I worry, as I've done for pretty much the last 14 years straight. 

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There's more. There's always more. And I will continue to mull it all over while I go about my daily activities, checking off tasks from lists, eating dinner with my family, snuggling with my doggies, the whole day. I will continue to search for the balance between consciously trying to inform myself of all the things and prepare my children for all of the things with simply breathing in the moment and appreciating things I love like chocolate, a clean house, and a good book. The words inside my head are simply a part of it all.

Title inspiration: "Believer" by Imagine Dragons