wADmM5mNLtOv064mhMCS_CYE3Bc Just Dorothy: So yesterday...

So yesterday...

My intentions were to create a birthday post Thursday night or Friday morning for my wonderful kiddo, John Ryan.  I didn't do it and now I regret it because his special day has passed and it turned out to be a day that really, truly sucked.

It started out great.  We woke up, slapped his butt, said happy birthday, gave hugs all around and headed out for school and work.  I had promised I'd make his cake when I got home later that afternoon and we'd open gifts after he and his girlfriend got back from dinner.  And then I got sick and came home.  My mom called me and asked if I'd heard about the shooting at an elementary school in CT.  28 dead, 18 of them children.  I briefly turned on the news to hear the story but had to turn it off, largely because the media drives me insane in cases like this.  They "try" to be sensitive, but in all reality they are just trying to get the scoop, be the first to report any new information and it's almost always wrong.  Anyway, I spent the rest of the day in bed, sleeping my aches and pains away and my great kid would text me to check up on me.  When he got home, we started talking about this tragedy and about how someone could walk into a school and shoot people, kill children.  I don't have any answers.  I don't know that the elementary school  I work in would be any safer if we were armed or not.  I do know that Monday, when school is in session again, I will not be able to look at those kids and not think of the little ones that lost their lives.  I'm hoping that over the weekend, our parents take precautions and not let their kiddos watch too much tv that shows this tragic event over and over again.  I want our babies to always feel safe. 

So, even though I was sick, didn't get to make a cake, Ryan's plans fell through I had to put it in perspective.  Ryan HAD a birthday.  He's one year older.  He is 17 and next year he will be 18.  I get to see his handsome face for one more day.  I get to hear his laugh and hug him for one more day.  I get to enjoy his company for one more day.  And I get to help heal his hurts for one more day.  I'm a very lucky, very blessed mom. 


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