Rebel Nation Blog

Words I never thought I would have to write…our 10 year old daughter was beaten up by a 10 year old boy on the playground last week. This wasn’t just bullying. It was more than that. And it was one of the most frightening things I have ever experienced as a parent. Here are some quick headlines that I wrote down to process my anger: “The pathology of misogyny starts in elementary school” “When boys beat up girls: why girls don’t fight back” “A mothers anguish starts in 4th

My 16 year old daughter Katelynn and I just did a FB live together about her #MarchForOurLives walkout this week. It was amazing to hear her thoughts about gun reform because we had never discussed it before. She has some great wisdom that she wants to share with all of you: Me: Do you think that kids that seem to be hurting could use a hug and someone to acknowledge their pain? How do you decide who just needs a hug and a “how’re you?” And who needs to be reported for their

It is a compulsion. A calling. A drive. The need to change the world for the better. The impulse to improve the community for everyone. It thrums through the blood in my veins. It resonates down deep into the tenor of my soul. I have never not heard the siren song of the call for justice. And yet… I can advocate for others but advocating for myself is an entirely different story, especially in my capacity as a parent. I have been raising three children since Sean was 18

I remember the moment I found out he had children. It was night, I had been drinking and fucking around on Facebook. I thought I had found his Facebook page. His profile picture was of kelp so I wasn’t sure if it was him or not. It said he was married. I clicked on her page and there was a little boy maybe 6 months old on the beach wearing an Army hat. The next photo was of him with her at a wedding. I completely freaked out. I wasn’t freaked out that he was married. I wasn’t

stop and smell the roses Tonight I planted the very first Mothers Day gift I have ever been given-a miniature rose tree that K bought with her own money after she saw me swooning over it at Costco.  It was very nearly dead when she brought it home to me hoping that I could bring it back to life.  While I was outside I was grumbling and getting incredibly frustrated that I couldn’t find my pruning sheers so that I could make it look alive again…anger started to fill within me.