Monday

It is Monday.

Our oldest son says he isn’t a fan of Mondays. Every Monday morning, I sit with him at the bus stop while he tells me why. I don’t try to change his mind—only to challenge how he approaches the day. We talk about Mondays as a chance to set the tone for the week, to choose an intention, to work toward something bigger. I’m not sure it’s working, but I don’t give up easily.

This morning felt different.

Over the weekend, I held my kids a little longer. I took deep breaths as I hugged them goodnight, trying to freeze this moment of who they are right now. Their childhood is unfolding in a world filled with division, hate, violence, and distorted truth. They can watch something factual and, moments later, hear something completely false. What do they do with that? What are we, as parents, supposed to do?

Lately, it feels like the weight of the world is on our shoulders. We’re expected to stand up, speak out, show love, protest, seek truth—while also raising and protecting our children from the harm shaping so much of our country.

That weight is heavy.

Every generation faces difficult moments, but this feels different. We are living with reckless leadership and a constant flood of information and misinformation. It’s exhausting to balance staying present while reality keeps crashing in—especially when we see people we know and respect supporting something so deeply harmful. I struggle with how to maintain relationships in the face of that.

We are past “agree to disagree.” Violence, lies, hatred, and evil are never acceptable. Ignoring them is not an option. Excusing or supporting a destructive agenda is never the way forward.

So what do we do? 

I brought my kiddo to the bus. I hugged him so tightly- I told him how amazing he was, kissed his head and waved goodbye. 

When I got home I had an email that notified us- due to the recent events there would be an additional active shooter drill at school today to ensure that the students and staff feel safe.

Reality- it's a Monday