This world we live in and "why mom?"

If someone had told me that I would be sitting at the dinner table explaining the longstanding conflict between Palestine and Israel, the U.S occupation of Iraq, and why people do so many bad things to each other, I might have put a bit more thought into procreating. How do you best explain to your 7 year old, wars that have been going on since before you were born, conflicts that rage on for years, and why that 7 year old on the other side of the world has no legs? I love my kids. What makes them more important than that kid across the world who has no legs? Nothing except for the fact that they are more important to me. It seems like the world as a whole has devolved to the point where we think it's normal and okay to completely lack human empathy. Lacking empathy is what allows us to turn a blind eye to the suffering of others, to place our pain above that of others, to say, my life is more important because...it's mine.
Yea, I hate those discussions. I think our first nitty-gritty discussion that made me reevaluate parenthood was Thanksgiving. "Yes baby, it was a massacre, ummm, why do we celebrate it? Because we do so in the spirit of giving thanks for what we have been given, in the spirit of which those who died offered to share what they had with others. Not to celebrate the pain and suffering that occurred on the original day." Eeek. Well, I'm sure many people would be more than happy to disagree with my style of parenting. But I don't believe in lying to my children. Not telling them about the truth of this world is not going to make this world a better place, it won't make them become better men. It will only doom us to repeating the mistakes of humanity. After all, if we don't know, or cannot admit past faults, how can we learn from them?
Okay, that's my completely non-sexy and uninteresting philosophical rambling for the day lol.

I think all I ever do is clean. I clean all day at work, stumble home late, then spend my days off cleaning our house. Been averaging 5-6 hours of sleep which is making me just plain cranky. I forgot how hard it is to get a little one to sleep in their own bed. I just wanna be a big girl with my (well, His) own bed again lol.
I went into space the other night for the first time in a while. It felt really wonderful just to be able to let go and sink down. Of course, I did end up crying afterwards when M gave me shit about blowing out the candles when we had no lighter. Wow, how ridiculous that looks in writing. I guess I just get really super sensitive to what He thinks of me ( the irony in not minding being called a slut all night and being hurt about getting a little shit afterwards is not lost on me lol).

Anyways, I have philosophical meanderings on my mind that my kids are not interested in hearing this morning lol. I was thinking about love on the way home last night. Well, love and emotional suffering. I suppose it was a pretty basic realization, but it's something I hadn't really ever thought about in quite this way--love seems to be the one thing on earth that can bring the greatest joy and the worst pain. All surrounding that one emotion. If you didn't love someone, it wouldn't hurt when they died. If you never love, then you miss the most fulfilling emotion a person can experience. Why is it, that one emotion can cause feelings that are so completely opposite (I am welcoming ideas here lol)? Perhaps it's because love is such an intense emotion. It becomes something we hold onto like a lifeline out of the water. When we lose it, we feel like we have been swept away in the currents I guess. perhaps love really is a raging river. At the same time, experiencing it is like getting swept away. Being in love is so similar to losing love--you are carried down the river by forces of nature that are just to strong to control or resist. Hmmm, this all made some kind of weird sense in my head. Seeing it typed out it just looks contradictory and confused. Maybe it's because I'm not good at putting emotion into words. I'm done trying for today lol.

I had been kicking around the idea of taking a road trip with the boys and going out to see my father's family. I have done a lot of traveling, but never without M so the idea of driving across the country on my own is a bit scary. Ironically, it's something my father would probably have loved--me being able to take care of myself was very important to him. I doubt it will happen this year as the drive really needs to happen before snow falls or after it melts, and we just don't have the money. I have put off this particular visit for a very long time. After talking to my grandmother the other day, I feel I need to go. She can't come here and I would like her to meet our youngest son. I felt bad...She started to cry the instant I said my name. She sounds absolutely destroyed. The poor woman lost her husband, her youngest, and now, her eldest child within the span of one year. And her one living son appears to be going off the deep end. I told them to send him out to see me, but I guess he has a problem getting on a plane. I think he's afraid to come here. He's never been out here without my dad being a major presence. I just think that sometimes the best way to deal with an issue is to plow straight through to the other side. Meh, how did I get to be the adult here?

I have been having terrible cramps for no reason and my house is once again in need of cleaning. I had better start staring at it and getting up the motivation to do something with the mess.