I woke up to Jack crying at 4:30 this morning and all I could think about was how much I HATE daylight savings. A ridiculous policy that was certainly not implemented by anyone with a small child who already was getting up with the chickens before we started messing with the clocks.
But, really, after yesterday I am thankful that my kid is safe in his room, at home with me, even if he is screaming and carrying on.
I've mentioned my "adopted family" here before. They've been an integral part of my life since I was 11. I love them dearly. They are good to me, and good to my husband and child. They were already in the midst of a funeral yesterday (not an unexpected death), when a real tragedy happened.
Really, the horror of it is almost too much to take.
I am often mocked for being overly protective of Jack. I hear more than my share of "why don't you just bubblewrap him until he is old?" But right now I really do want to just bubblewrap him.
If things are quiet around here, I am taking a few days to chew on it all and to sort out what we can do for them.