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A rambling gun rant

I have so many disjointed thoughts about guns in America right now. I am sad, sick, and angry about what happened at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Florida last week. I hate that I have to talk to my high schooler about what to do if someone starts shooting in her school. I hate that when the hubs and I dropped her off at the movies last week, I was feeling uneasy as we told her to be aware of her surroundings and pay attention to where the exits are. I hate that my daughter has many unanswerable questions about how what happened actually happened. I hate that my 11-year-old nephew in TX is afraid to go to school because he is afraid of a shooting. I hate that nearly every day since that awful shooting, I have had to read about threats at various schools, instilling more fear in children. Over 5 years ago after the shooting in Newtown, I said that I still consider schools one of the safest places. Despite the fact that we seem to read about more and more school shootings, ...

I am a wimp. A big one.

Before I launch into this post, telling you how I can hardly handle pain stronger than a toe stubbing (and sometimes that is too much), let me first say that I birthed my only child without the use of any drugs. Nada. Nothing. Zilch. Everyone who knew me well was shocked I was able to do that. But do it I did. Not because I wanted to experience "natural" childbirth. No, intense contractions and the actual pushing don't seem all that natural to me. They definitely weren't beautiful, amazing, or however some crazy moms describe them. The real reason I birthed my kid without drugs? I did not want a needle in my spine. I hate needles. I used to donate blood regularly, with my sought-after O positive blood and all. But eventually I got to the point where the needle bothered me too much, both when it went in and how it felt the entire time (it burned). Couple that with my being a slow bleeder and throw in my passing out about 35 percent of the time, and I had some prett...