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I, like many, are distraught over this week’s election results. I’m still somewhat in shock… but I need to start documenting my post election thoughts sooner than later.

My heart aches and I can’t stop with the tears. This makes every painful breakup feel like a damn picnic. In fact, my pain is on par with losing my little brother to police brutality… it truly feels like a death.

I didn’t see this coming – I absolutely expected Hillary to win. I naively had no idea women were so hated and untrusted in our country. The fact I’m raising a daughter in this toxic environment keeps me awake at night. How am I supposed to tell her she can grow up to be anything she wants, when I stopped believing that myself this week? Hold please… more tears.

I’m tracking my thoughts in list form, because I will be adding more as my hurt turns to rage.

• An unqualified, ignorant, racist, misogynistic, homophobic bigot was elected over an incredibly qualified woman who has spent her entire career serving the greater good. Don’t tell me it’s not a gender issue. I’m so sick and tired of hearing that people don’t trust Hillary, if she were a man it would be a completely different story – without a doubt. SO MUCH MORE ON THIS LATER.
• The number of white women who voted for Trump makes me crazy angry. How dare you not support another woman? If she weren’t a good candidate of course I wouldn’t be upset over this, but she was THE candidate.
• Bernie bros admitting to not voting? Unbelievable to me. Had he won the nomination, I would have been disappointed sure, but still supported with wholeheartedly. I voted Hillary over Obama in the 2008 primary, yet I’ve done nothing but support and adore President Obama and all the incredible things his administration has done.
• I’m terrified of what this means for those who don’t fit into Trump’s white-straight-male-Christian mold, especially members of my own family and tribe.
• I’m horrified at the bullying in schools and general acts of cruelness that are erupting only days after the election. What does this mean for the next four years?

So what’s next? Well, I’ve been talking about getting involved with local politics and Planned Parenthood for two years, but haven’t. This is a much needed wake-up call. I’m joining a group for female democrats in Utah and I’ve started the process for volunteer work with the local chapter of PP. As for donations, I plan to make an ACLU donation in my daughter’s name.

None of this will be enough, but it’s a start. I need to feel like I’m doing something positive instead of hiding in bed and ugly-crying my way through episodes of “Gilmore Girls” for the next four years, even though that’s all I want to do.

I called my little brother on election day, to make sure he hadn’t voted for Trump. I know, I know… but I seriously have no boundaries. He mentioned something that’s been bothering me for days. Someone asked him if the only reason I was a Hillary Clinton supporter was because she was a woman. He knew that wasn’t the case, but apparently my Facebook posts led someone to think that.

I failed. I was so excited about shattering that goddamn glass ceiling with posts like the one below, that I neglected to post my thoughts on the fact Hillary was (AND STILL IS, DAMMIT) the most qualified individual on that ballot.

SHAME ON ME.

Lesson learned, next time I will discuss the merits of my support and not just discuss my excitement over making #herstory.

I’ve been freelancing for a year and for the most part I’ve absolutely loved it. It’s so nice not stressing about missing important client meetings because my kid is sick. And more importantly, it’s been fantastic having this time with my daughter. My only regret, it not quitting my job sooner… but the silver lining there is that I ended up being promoted to VP post maternity leave.

The biggest drawback to freelance, however, is not having co-workers. I’ve always known working was a social hub for me, but didn’t realize just how important those day-to-day relationships really were. Sure, I have absolutely amazing friends, but it’s not so easy to get together with them as it was pre-Franny.

I miss coffee dates with my office husband and lunch dates with work friends. I have two days a week where Franny goes to school and I try and make that time as productive as possible, between freelance work, errands and getting my house in order… I don’t make friendships a priority like I used to. I need to figure out a way to change that. And soon. Otherwise I might not have any friends left and will start thinking characters from “The Mindy Project” are real life pals.

I’m racing around the house trying to find a jacket, so Franny and I can get to the library in time for story hour when I hear someone ringing the doorbell.

FUUUUUUCK.

All hell breaks loose. The pugs are barking and scratching at the front door in hopes of finding a pizza delivery on the other side of the door. Franny is screaming because, well, she’s a toddler and they don’t need reasons to scream. It’s just their job.

I finally get things settled down enough to open the door to find a Comcast tech who needs access to our backyard to fix connection issues for the neighborhood. I track down the key to the gate to let him in and he looks at me with the kindest eyes and says, “I think you’ve earned your morning drink with that chaos. What’s that saying, for every baby cry do a shot of whiskey?”

It took every ounce of self control not to grab a bottle of whiskey and do shots in the backyard with him. Had I not left Franny alone in the house with the pugs, I might have… but today isn’t the day to make sure the pugs make good nannies.

I laugh and thank him for encouraging motherhood inspired alcoholism. I walk back inside to make sure my lovable chaos is still intact.. and truthfully, to make sure I have whiskey for 5PM. I suspect I’m gonna need it.

Yes, my daughter who will be two next week has her first stalker, and I couldn’t be prouder! That’s how weird parenting is… you finding yourself prideful over the oddest things.

• OMG my kid can drink out of a cup. Alert the media, I have a genius on my hands.
• OMG my kid can say dog. She’s a future vet and will make me the future proudest Mama.
• OMG my kid moved a stool to the sink to wash her hands. She’s clearly the most independent child alive.

Back to the stalker though, because how cool is that?! I’m gushing with pride.

Last week, I stopped to pick Franny up from school and she was still napping. I went to her classroom to wake her up and found a little boy sitting next to her cot watching her sleep. The little boy, an adorable oafish fella, always follows Franny around and constantly wants to hug her. Kinda cute, but she truly hates it. When I woke her up, she looked up at her stalker and let out a giant sigh. Franny looks like her Dad, but she’s sooooo my kid sometimes.

Next week marks a year since I quit my fancy agency job and became a part-time stay-at-home-mom and part-time freelancer. I had high hopes of documenting this huge life change, but haven’t done shit. What I didn’t realize is that being home with a toddler is demanding…  and so, so exhausting. I could go on and on about that, but the point of this post is that I really need to start writing again.

You see, I committed to teaching a community education creative writing class. It starts in a month and I really, REALLY need to get back into the habit of writing, mostly so I don’t feel like a teaching hack.

The most I’ve written lately is goddamn grocery lists and Instagram posts, which is incredibly sad since blogging used to bring me such joy. I need to find that creative joy again, so here it goes…

I swear I’m going to start updating this blog again. Stay tuned.

How did an entire year go by in a mere moment? Was it the lack of sleep or maybe the massive amount of love I developed for my daughter? All I know is this happened way too fast and I need time to slow down ASAP.

Guilt has always been a motivating factor in my life. Seriously.

For example, let’s say I want to skip a family event… I don’t have to question whether or not I’ll feel guilty because I so, so will. I have to ask myself how long will I feel guilty. I’m OK with anything less than 48 hours of guilt. Anything higher means I can’t skip the hypothetical family event.

Enter mama guilt.

When I’m at work, I feel guilty I’m not home with Franny. When I’m home with her, I feel guilty I’m not at work. Don’t get me started on the guilt I feel over the pugs not getting as much attention as they deserve. Don’t worry, they still run the show but just with less walks.

Does it get better or at least a little bit easier?

Because ohhhmyyygoddd people, there’s nothing stronger. I wish I could bottle it up and get my loved ones drunk off mama guilt. WAIT, forget my loved ones. I’d open a fucking club and make billions.

My tiny human, Franny, is six months old, which means I’ve been a mom for half a year… talk about a holy shit moment.

I had high hopes of blogging my experiences, but then life happened. My beloved brother died in January. I went back to work full-time in February, and suddenly here we are and it’s the end of April… and I’m like “Oh yeah, I have a blog.”

Oops.

Having a baby and working full-time means I don’t have a lot of free time. And truthfully, free time is the last thing I want. I want more time with my daughter.  Can you blame me? Look at this little pile of love.

I knew I’d enjoy motherhood on some level, but I wasn’t prepared for just how much. This kiddo is rocking my world and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So as for an update. I’m surviving. Franny is surviving. The pugs and husband are, too, surviving. I managed to get through a family tragedy, post pregnancy hormones and a colicky infant all at once.

With that behind me, I’m just enjoying every single day with my family. More to come…