Five years ago, Bush finally invaded Iraq. I remember that it felt like an inevitability for some time before that. And I remember spending most of the time leading up to this wondering what the hell I had done.
I was just about 39 weeks pregnant.
Not that I didn't know the state of affairs was more precarious than usual when I went out and purposely got pregnant--that happened not quite a year after 9/11.
But there was something about the start of a war that somehow combined with late-pregnancy hormones to make me think I was absolutely nuts.
In my younger days, I would have been out there protesting, as I may have done over Gulf War 1.0 (sorry, Conflict, not an official war). I may have pointed out to fellow students that the US was not below manipulating the media when they laughed over reports that the Iraqi government was telling their people that they were winning.
In the lead up to the current Gulf Morass, I did not think that I was in the best shape for protesting, particular if things got out of hand. I bit my tongue a lot so that I could play the role of facilitating my students' discussions and concerns about events without getting up on my soapbox. I may, however, have read my advisees The Butter Battle Book.
And about a week after the official start, my son was born and my world changed, even if the world at large did not.
A lot has happened for my family over the past five years. We moved out of the country and back again; I take some pleasure from the fact that our tax money didn't go towards the Gulf War for a couple years (Afghanistan, yes; Iraq, no). We've dealt with a number of health issues and watched our son become a non-top talker with slightly better balance.
I don't think that my son is aware of the war; it's outside the scope of his world. But I am certainly aware and would have hoped--not expected, but hoped--not to see this landmark birthday/anniversary echoing his entry five years ago.