Tomorrow, I’m getting up earlier than my kids so we can have a special breakfast.
Tomorrow, I am packing a few toys and snacks to keep them in good moods.
Tomorrow, I am putting my daughter in her Future President t-shirt.
Tomorrow, I am talking to my four-year-old son about what an exciting day this is.
Tomorrow, we are driving to our polling place.
Tomorrow, I am bringing my son and my almost 18-month-old daughter into the voting booth with me. She won’t remember it, but I will tell her a million times as she grows older that she was there.
Tomorrow, I am voting for the first woman President of the United States.
When I was a kid, my best friend said she wanted to be president one day. At nine-years-old, I looked at her like she was nuts. Growing up, when adults would tell me or other young girls that maybe we would be president one day, it felt inauthentic and patronizing. As a child, I did not think I would see a woman president.
My daughter is never going to think that. And neither is my son.
We’re with her.
This post was brought to you by #NaBloPoMo or National Blog Post Month. I will be writing a blog post every day for the month of November. But I probably would have written this anyway because it’s history, guys.