The Boy’s tonsil surgery was fast yesterday – only about 15 minutes. He’s been able to manage his pain quite well, and is getting along better than I feared, as we ply him with Sonic slushies, popsicles, ice cream, pudding, broth, and yogurt. The doc says that the most dangerous period for possibly intense bleeding is days 7-10, though, so I’ll be on pins and needles until we pass that mile marker.
In the meantime Middle Sister (who has been a tremendous support and shows much concern and caring for her little brother) and I continue to paint – today we’ll do the ceiling of the bathroom project. Here’s where we are now, with the walls and ceiling primed. The texture of the walls, which had been a concern, seem absolutely fine. Ready for paint, with no special texturizing product required. Thank goodness – I’m pretty sure that would have been a disaster had we tried to attempt it. Once we get the ceiling done, it will be on to paying a little attention to the rest of the house (in between bouts of monitoring The Boy’s meds and reminding him to eat, eat, eat). Drywall dust lies everywhere, along with crumbs, stains, and general gross-ness everywhere. With both Oldest and The Husband coming home in the next couple of days, I know I’ll be a lot more at peace with a clean house than a grunge pit.
Oh, and a run to the grocery store is a must today. There’s nothing – NOTHING – here for a normal person to eat for breakfast or lunch. Middle Sister is delighted to saute some kale, onions, tomato, and lentils for breakfast (ugh) but my more traditional palate requires toast, eggs, cereal, and the like.
And through all this everyday, normal mom stuff, I continue to think big thoughts about what’s going on in our nation. So many good things, and yet so much evil. Black churches burning at a significantly higher rate since the racist-motivated Charleston hate crime. Abject ignorant spouted by powerful white guys who aspire to lead our country, as they try to prove how they “love Jesus” so much they will fight to preserve “traditional marriage.” Vomit.
I got a sickening shock this morning: A young friend of ours re-posted a photo of some other young person with a confederate flag filter over it – obviously mocking the rainbow filter I’m seeing on so many photos lately.
Let me say it again – a confederate flag filter.
Two days ago another young man I know posted support of his friends who fly “the rebel” because it is, after all, “just a symbol of states’ rights.” (I won’t go into the intense gagging reflex I had over the nickname for that hate flag.) His father quickly posted a rebuttal comment, attempting to correct his son’s disturbing thinking.
Young people, some of whom I know, think this is acceptable. They believe the lies that southern culture still tries to shove down our throats. I know of incidents, as well, in which young people have dismissed antisemitism as a thing of the past, basically downplaying the atrocities of the Nazi regime.
We are allowing young people to get by without learning the realities of history; the realities of the deep, ugly sins of our nation; the realities of a society that has no empathy.
Dear God. We have so much work to do.