In case you didn't guess from the url of this blog, I am a Connecticut mom. And this week at least, we are all Connecticut moms. Moms and dads and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and siblings who love our kids and will give them dozens of extra hugs and kisses over the next few days and weeks.
It doesn't matter how close geographically one lives to Newtown, CT. We all might as well live in Newtown. There is not a single person unaffected by this tragedy. Even those that are blissfully unaware, like AK, who we decided not to tell.
I am not a political person. And, yet, I do think, hope, feel that perhaps some sort of legislation would make something like this less likely to happen. Mental health? Gun control? I don't know the answer, but I sure would like one. Or maybe I would just like to know that there is an answer for how to avoid it, because I do not think we will ever get an answer to 'why?'.
Like everyone else, the Hoos and I struggled to process. We grappled with if and how and how much to tell LP. As a six year old first grader, she felt too young to tell, but too old not to tell.
A few weeks ago she came home from school and told us about the drills her class did in case of a tornado. We giggled along with her as she described how 22 kids and pregnant teacher would cram into the closet-sized bathroom in her class and one kid asked, "What if I have to pee?"
We aren't giggling anymore.