It’s happened again. Another shooting in a school. This time was an elementary school. Three students were gunned down. Nine year olds.

Hard things are coming. It’s been looming all week. Today was prep day. Are the clothes clean? Does anything need to be pressed? Do the shoes fit? Can we even find the dress shoes?

My dad called this morning just to say hi. It was nice to talk and just get caught up for a minute. So much has been going on that it was a little sliver of normalcy is an otherwise emotionally draining week.

It’s been a long and exhausting week. Pulling myself out of bed each morning has been an uphill battle. We’ve all slept in until the very last minute. We were absolutely hobbling into Friday.

The news came in this morning while I was swamped at my desk. A meeting at 11:30 and I’m woefully underprepared. I saw who was calling and immediately knew. Those calls don’t happen at work unless it is something like this. Last time he called me at work it was for similar reason. Just a different sad loss.

I’m waiting. We are all waiting. There’s nothing else to do but wait. They will be there, of course. But all of them? I hope so. Maybe I don’t. I don’t know. It’s hard. I know this. We all know this. There is no easy answer. Sometimes it’s better to not be there. Sometimes you can’t be anywhere else. It’s personal in that way.

I’m not ready. It’s all just so fast. At Christmas he was fine. I saw him. I laughed with him. We joked. Nothing was wrong.

It’s been a dull ache for two weeks or so. I’ve been taking quite a bit of Tylenol and Motrin. I thought maybe it could be my allergies or sinuses. I feel better when I’m sitting up vs. lying down. Then I thought nope—that’s not it.

Written a couple weeks ago. I had to sit on this one for a bit.

McKenna told me funny little tale. I sure do hope that her teacher actually found it giggle worthy and was not covering for some hurt feelings. I think it is also a pretty good reflection of her memories of me while pregnant with my youngest.