Weekend Wrap Up and More Snow

... and let there be snow.

More snow.  Another school day off.  I think at this point, we're going to be going to school until July.

But, the girls don't mind at all.  They love bundling up.

They love making the world's lamest 12 inch high snowmen that are more like mounds of snow with a carrot stuck in it somewhere.

As far as the snow - slash - extreme cold goes, I think all of us grown-ups are so over it.

But hey, it's winter. What'dya gonna do.

All I know is that I love this -

'Nuff said. 

As far as our "Weekend Wrap Up" goes... it would read more like a laundry list of a million things all crammed into 48 hours like some type of ancient Chinese suburban water torture.  Girl Scout cookie selling, birthday parties, visits to Pennsylvania, church, swimming... blah blah blah.  

And one thing that was really lovely.  Making Valentines Day cards in honor of one of the Sandy Hook School shooting victims, Emilie Parker.  She was only 6 when she was shot and killed last year.  She loved making cards.

So, that is what the local non-profit 'Angels of God' did - They organized a big card-making event in Emilie's honor.  It was a great turnout. 

Cards will be distributed to nursing home residents, Meals on Wheels recipients and the troops in goodie boxes.  

Speaking of volunteer and charity work and acts of kindness specifically for young children...

I have started a facebook page called Charitable Children and I'd love it if you would check it out and give it a little follow!  

The page is intended to be a resource hub for parents who want ideas, websites, inspiration, and opportunities to get their children more active in charity projects.  I try to post about twice a day. Some events are local to Southern NJ but much of what I post can be done anywhere... or at least get you inspired to start a project of your own in your neck of the woods!

You can follow Charitable Children on Facebook HERE.

Hope to "see" you there... and in the meantime

Happy Snow Day!

Four Lanterns

I have an uncharacteristic throbbing headache today, but slept better last night even with Tink's 4:00 am awakening.  She's home sick with fever for the second day.  I'm not feeling too hot myself, but can't tell if it's just emotional or an illness coming on.  I'm just heavy in the body, mind, heart and spirit.  

The loss of hope and faith in both this world and beyond leaves an empty hole in the center of your soul.    

However, four lanterns appeared in my personal fog.   

I forced myself to attend my book club last night.  I let myself speak unfiltered and in doing so allowed myself to be vulnerable (which is something I find quite difficult).  I felt a little "I wonder if everyone thinks X, Y, and Z about me" for a few seconds afterwards but my long friendships with most of these women means I need to trust that we love and accept each other for who we are.  Unless I show who I am, no one can truly know me.

I read blogger Kelle Hampton's post entitled Restoration and it offered yet another small lantern in the dark.  I've stolen an excerpt she cited :  

“Don’t squander joy. We can’t prepare for tragedy and loss. When we turn every opportunity to feel joy into a test drive for despair, we actually diminish our resilience. Yes, softening into joy is uncomfortable. Yes, it’s scary. Yes, it’s vulnerable. But every time we allow ourselves to lean into joy and give in to those moments, we build resilience and we cultivate hope. The joy becomes part of who we are, and when bad things happen—and they do happen—we are stronger.” (from Daring Greatly, Gotham Books, 2012)

I took CB to get her blood drawn again this morning, with Tink (home sick from school) and Rella.  The phlebotomists there are the nicest ladies and we come so often that they always remember us.  A gentleman with disheveled clothing and missing teeth let us go ahead of him so CB didn't have an extra wait.  The ladies were sweet with her, despite her antics.  There is kindness in the world all around; in the small, everyday, simple ways.  There is kindness.

Finally, on the way home I heard one of my absolute favorite songs sung by my new band obsession, Mumford and Sons.  My spirit soars like a giant balloon whenever I hear it. 



My spirit didn't soar quite as high, but it's being restored.   

The Names

We spent Saturday at a family Christmas party in Pennsylvania where we celebrated while avoiding commentary on the events that occurred 24 hours earlier.  It was my 90 year old grandmother's most beloved day and we weren't going to bring it down.  Dr Fabulous and I co-wrote our first article for submission to a regional paper.  It would have been romantic were it not for the content - How to talk to your children about traumatic events.  We didn't know how else to help.  We still don't.

Sunday morning I took Rella and CB to church where mention of the tragedy at Sandy Hook was surprisingly fleeting though a prayer was offered.  I left the service wishing I felt better, trailing my hope and faith behind me like a wisp, a vapor, disappearing. Dr Fabulous spent the morning with Pink and Tink volunteering at a special Santa brunch organized to benefit local children in need from broken, struggling families.

We ordered Italian food for dinner and finally talked to the girls Sunday night about the events at Sandy Hook knowing that we couldn't prolong the inevitable. They would likely hear things once back at school.  They were sad, but they didn't fully understand.  No child should fully understand.  I'm grateful they don't.

Once again, I didn't sleep more than a couple hours, awakened with grief for parents just like me dealing with the incomprehensible and violent loss of children just like mine. I pictured my first grader too many times, and the thought alone destroys me. Try as I might, I can find nothing that puts an iota of distance between me and them.  They are us, we are them.  I've never felt the pain of an international event so extensively and deeply as I do now.  I've been shocked and saddened, but never this affected.  Never. But when it's too much I turn off the T.V. and with time I'll turn off my thoughts.  I'm blessed that I have this option and can't bear the guilt of knowing so many don't.

I stopped looking at social media, including facebook. Dismayed and shocked at the posts that were going up by people I thought I knew - people I don't wish to know anymore.  Within 24-48 hours of babies huddled together in fear while a man with more ammunition than one civilian needs to possess filled their tiny bodies with bullet holes, people started harping about their precious guns - their fears at the "liberals" using this incident to take their rights away.  Pontification on the fact that guns will be procured no matter what the laws say, so (in essence) why bother? THESE were their immediate concerns, their immediate thoughts, those they broadcasted to hundreds of facebook friends in the wake of horrors none could conjure. The judgements were hurled at a mother they didn't know, the typical politicizing began, and people clutched their guns to their breasts as if they were children.  The blood wasn't cleaned, the bodies weren't yet buried, but some simply can't resist the opportunity to speak out against "...the liberal agenda." While conversations certainly need to be had, this noise is so indecent for right now that I have to shut it off, shut it out.  If a mass murder of this caliber cannot lead us in an un-politicized discussion as to what needs to be done to prevent things like this from occurring?  If we can't come together from opposite sides of the political poles that WE perpetuate? Then God help us all.  We're lost.  We're so freakin' lost.

I have never been one to express strong opinions here, afraid of offending or being misunderstood, but I am in such pain and disbelief.  I should just stick with the only words that should be spoken in the days - the DAYS after 26 innocents are slain.  Words of prayer, hope, kindness and love.

I don't understand anything anymore.  Anything.  I only want to say these final words and then I can't bear to write about this day any longer on my blog.  You may think me shallow or that I've moved on, but I just can't bear to talk about it except with my immediate loved ones.  I only have strength for these final words - the only words that matter.  The names of the innocents, the heros, the children; the angels.

God bless their sweet souls and the souls of all those who miss them beyond measure. Bless them all and never forget their names.

Charlotte Bacon, 6
Daniel Barden, 7
Olivia Engel, 6
Josephine Gay, 7
Ana M. Marquez-Greene, 6
Dylan Hockley, 6
Madeleine F. Hsu, 6
Catherine V. Hubbard, 6
Chase Kowalski, 7
Jesse Lewis, 6
James Mattioli, 6
Grace McDonnell, 7
Emilie Parker, 6
Jack Pinto, 6
Noah Pozner, 6
Caroline Previdi, 6
Jessica Rekos, 6
Avielle Richman, 6
Benjamin Wheeler, 6
Allison N. Wyatt, 6
Mary Sherlach, 56
Victoria Soto, 27
Anne Marie Murphy, 52
Lauren Rousseau, 30
Dawn Hochsprung, 47
Rachel Davino, 29

Any Town

I don't usually post on the week ends.  However, after my last post about holiday traditions was written I shortly thereafter became aware of the tragic shootings at Sandy Hook.  It seemed so dumb to have that post go up, but there it is - sitting there in all its banality and happiness while so many lives were torn apart, ripped away and deeply traumatized.

I have nothing and everything to say.  I had to turn it all off last night because I couldn't stop crying.  I kept waking up in tears, trying to comprehend what it must be like for those parents, those surviving siblings and friends, for that entire community who lost mothers, daughters, sons, teachers, neighbors, friends, relatives.  Babies.

They were babies.

"I just want Christmas" one small child cried in what she thought were her last moments hiding in the bathroom under the brave protection of her teacher.

Babies.  Babies who just wanted Christmas.

It makes me ill, and that's all I can say.

It could have been any town.  Any school.  Any child.  That town sounds just like my town; small, safe, quaint.  A friendly, tight-knit community.  It could have been my school - my principal, my three children in grades Pre-K, First, and Third all housed under the elementary school roof.  My kid's friends, my friend's babies, my beloved teachers.

I put my girls on the bus at 8:05 yesterday morning.  It was cold.  They ran out of the minivan without looking back at me.  I didn't kiss and hug them goodbye.  I didn't say "I love you."  They just left and I never thought that might be the last time I saw them.  Never.

What can I do or say?  Nothing.  There's nothing I can do or say.  I can only hold my babies tight, smell their skin, feel their heartbeat in their little chest.  I can only celebrate Christmas, aching for those whose children were only hours ago making Christmas lists and squealing with delight when the Elf on the Shelf moved.  They were being kids at one of the happiest times of the year.  Twenty innocent babies, gone.

What can we do?  We can keep our blessed opinions on guns and rants about the agendas of liberals and conservatives respectively off of flippin' facebook for the love of all that's holy people. No offense to anyone but seriously, it's facebook, not a soapbox.  If you're not showing off cute pictures of your kids or being friendly and inspiring, don't post.  (Sorry, had to vent.)  I don't know what the answers are (nor do I want to be hypocritical and go there myself) but I know that no one's facebook status diatribes have ever solved the world's problems and looking for a reason to jump on the politics of something seems a bit unhelpful at this time.  So de-friend me if you must.

I'm just holding my children close.  Days will go by, then months, then years.  With time, we'll forget to appreciate things the way we do RIGHT NOW.  We'll forget and go back to taking all our blessings for granted.  We always sort of do, myself included.  I swear, I won't let myself forget this.

Ever.

That could have been my town.  My school.  My friends.  My neighbors.  My babies.
My world, gone.