I see this blog as a family album, not a political forum, and I sat down with the intent of finally posting the lovely fall photos I got of the girls from our trip to the arboretum last week… but I’m also feeling really weird about the prospect of publishing some happy post of smiling children without acknowledging how totally devastated I am right now.

I’m ashamed of my country. This is such a nauseating and new feeling. I’ve been ashamed of my government before, I’ve been ashamed of loud but small groups of people before, but this was a national election, everyone had a voice! All those millions of Americans, going out and casting their vote for this hateful, angry man. We’ve had over a year listening to Donald Trump say disgusting things about women, Muslims, Latinos, black people, people with disabilities. Some of it has been coded, some of it has been shockingly blunt, but it’s all certainly been broadcast over and over and everyone knows who he is, it’s no secret. And we just chose him to be our president.

Suddenly I feel like I can’t trust anyone. I just find myself wondering how many people have been inwardly, silently agreeing with him, buying into the fear-mongering and the self-aggrandizing. I keep thinking, how can I raise my children in a culture like this? I caught a look on Drew’s face and asked him what he was thinking. He said, “It’s just, Juniper will be seven by the time this is over. Maybe eleven.” My train of thought exactly. This world we are making for her and Quinn… I always used to think it was such melodramatic rhetoric when people would say things like that. But this is just unprecedented.

I know that many of the people who voted for him are not hateful like him. I know that, for a lot of people, it came down to ideological issues and swallowing an unsavory personality as a means to that end. It’s just… I didn’t think people would be willing to overlook that kind of hatred.

Anyways. I could use a little escapism right now.

This was a perfect day last week when I was thinking of nothing more than the sunshine making halos of my girls’ hair and the frites and aioli waiting for us at Brasserie V.