From now on, when anyone asks me how Max is, instead of sighing and saying something like, "Well, he's very two", or (if its another mom usually) launching into the laundry list of difficult toddler behavior he's exhibiting lately, I'll be saying, "Max is bright, funny, happy and healthy and I'm so grateful for his presence in this world I want to sob just thinking about it." And then they'll probably puke. But its overwhelmingly how I've felt since the events in Connecticut last Friday. I've resisted facebook posting about it, have not read more than the bare, tragic facts, and refuse to moralize or politicize it. Instead I hold onto what is dear to me, mourn all the innocent suffering in this world, and pray for peace in my heart.
And watch this over and over and over:
