I’m trying so hard. I’m doing my best. But every so often, I see a tweet or an update or just some fleeting though passes through my head and I have to fly into the bedroom

I sit in the quiet darkness of my room and type while Nate stays strong for both of us.

Girls, who wants to play with the iPad!

Meeeeeee!

I flicker so quickly between numbness and outrage. Between paralysis and frantic energy. I’m starving. I can’t eat. I want a glass of wine. I want to sleep. I want to play with my kids. I want to be alone.

I make a donation to the Brady Campaign and feel a little less powerless. I engage in stupid debates on Facebook with human brick walls. It’s a distraction, but easier than being alone with my thoughts.

I especially mourn for my friend VDog who lost her nephew today at Sandy Hook. Please keep her family in your heart.

How does one even recover from this?

I’ve said before that any mother’s loss is every mother’s loss.

We all lost so many tonight.

Too many.

Still, I have to live for the living. I want my girls to dance at our building’s Christmas party tonight. I want them to think about movies and weekend plans and playdates with friends and asking for dessert when they haven’t had any dinner. I want them to be kids. But the hard part is, I want them to be kids in a world where this shit doesn’t happen.

I will have to settle for creating that illusion for them as long as I can.

Which means I don’t want them to see me cry.