Yellow Ribbons

I have finally succumbed to the stupidity that is the yellow ribbon. I know, I know, what good does it do for me to put a yellow magnet on my car? Exactly none, except to make some money for the folks in China who make the stupid magnets. My magnets are different, though (don't we always think that about whatever it is that we do? "I'm DIFFERENT, I'm not STUPID like those people, I'm SMART." Sigh). I eschewed the bossy magnets that say, "Support the Troops!" or "Pray for the Troops!" I've always disliked those. Of course you support the troops. Of course you pray (or think about, or send positive vibes to, or healing white light, or whatever spiritual thing you do, if you do that sort of thing) for the troops. It has always seemed a little...presumptuous to me for people to put that on their cars. Ahem, usually on their enormous, gas sucking and troop-endangering SUVs.

My ribbons, however, are different. Mine say, "Keep my son safe," and "Proud parents of a soldier." For some reason I have recently found myself embracing certain aspects of this experience that are decidedly militarized. Maybe "embracing" is the wrong word. "Drawing comfort from," is probably a better way to describe it.

I own a hoodie that says, "ARMY" across the front. I proudly wear the Tshirt that says, "My son is a US soldier." Because yes, I AM proud of TB.

I find this, at best, confusing.

I'm thinking about this, and continue to think about the physicality of motherhood and mothering - I feel like there is something there I am supposed to figure out, some sort of hole I am supposed to fill in.

Then again, it could just be me not wanting to think about the papers that are due, or my contrary and ornery class at Large University, who say things about Women's Studies like, "I don't really care about this, it doesn't effect me."

Sigh.

Yes, life, she is nothing if not entertaining.