These last few days have been difficult. I cringe when I look through my Facebook newsfeed. I skip through news channels quickly trying to avoid any haunting and scary images. I excuse myself from heated conversations and debates about politics, immigration, and war. I lie awake at night afraid. This recent terror attack in Paris, however, was not the first time (and I’m certain it will not be the last time) when I was forced to face the state of this world where I live and parent.
When my older children were younger I was the parent dropping off at daycare and I, of course, always took a few minutes to give each some attention, a kiss and a hug, and a “have a good day” before I rushed out to work. Because of a job switch I now leave for work before my children leave and my husband is responsible for getting the older children to school and our youngest to daycare. While I still always said “have a good day” or gave a kiss as I rushed passed a child on my way out the door I sometimes would miss one. Sometimes the baby would still be asleep when I left and I wouldn’t wake her. Often one would still be upstairs dressing or another would be shoveling breakfast into her mouth so I would yell my “goodbyes” as I rushed out.