Papaya Mom

There was NOTHING on TV; Papaya clung to me like a barnacle all day long. I cherished having her cuddly again, but sitting there I ended up watching crap TV. I watched CMT. Please still be my friend, I have no intention of saying ‘yall’ too often.

I watched a show called American Soldier that I expected, as a Quaker, to be bothered by. It was about a Georgia National Guard Unit deploying to Iraq, and the lives of their families at home. I felt so sappy watching the goodbyes, strange watching the guys in Kuwait talking about how they were dealing with the possibility of accidentally killing a woman or child. They were discussing how afraid they were and how they are trained about IEDs being in dead bodies on the side of the road. EW. It reminds me how much I despise war, no matter if what someone is fighting for is right or wrong.

I would rather be killed than fight myself, yet I married a guy in the military. I am torn over it quite often; I love him but hate the “purpose” of his job. I am often embarrassed that I am afraid for him to leave the military (job security, etc.) when my morals tell me to have him leave the job.

Okay, Papaya was born on January 20, the day of Bush’s inauguration. I could not bring myself to write this in her baby book under “what was the big news story of the day?” Okay, now I’m rambling.

So, I cried watching the guys deploy but don’t know what I want to do about it. What kind of an activist am I? Am I an activist anymore?

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