ugh, reflection time

Last night, I wrote some drivel about how I was all excited to watch the Boston Marathon on TELEVISION this year. We have a free preview of the Universal Sports network this month and I loaded up the DVR with Boston, Rotterdam and London.

It all seems very inappropriate now. Actually, anything I write today is going to seem inappropriate, fake, hollow and attention-seeking so I’ll apologize in advance for hitting publish at all.

I wasn’t there. This isn’t about me. But like many of you, I watched the tragedy unfold, sent a few frantic texts, exchanged grief-stricken remarks with Facebook friends and then just kind of sat and stared for a while.

Patton Oswalt said it best: “Boston. Fucking horrible.” (He went on to say something quite poignant, you should click on that link.) But I can’t imagine any of you want to read another blog post about all that, so at the risk of seeming insensitive, I’ll just tell you about how I played with the baby and then ducked out for a run, two things I can always count on to heal me when shit gets real.


The weather has been fantastic here (aside from near-constant 30 mph winds) and we’ve been spending every possible moment outside. The baby FUCKING LOVES outside. And she runs everywhere. Of course, she stops every five feet or so to examine a tree or a dandelion or some mud or a stick, but she can still do some serious mileage on those fat little baby legs.


One day she’ll be old enough to know about the shitty things that happen in this world, but today I’m thankful she’s too young to be afraid of anything but the vacuum.

Take care.


9 thoughts on “ugh, reflection time

  1. I love this post. I really don’t have much else to say, other than I agree with you completely. I wasn’t there, I can only keep them in my thoughts.

  2. I am with you on being so thankful that I don’t have to explain these things to my kids yet. I’m not looking forward to that day when they ask “Why do things like this happen?”

  3. My feelings exactly, Marie. I was just so grateful to not have to explain anything yet to a kid–and still so angry that, someday, I’ll have to, and how do you explain something you know but don’t really understand? I didn’t run, but I did like you and played with the kidlet and thanked my lucky stars she was there to keep me (and everyone around her) that not everything is awful in the world at times like this.

    (And at the risk of appreciating cute at inappropriate times: she is too sweet and her outfit is too cool for school).

  4. This is my favorite. –> “One day she’ll be old enough to know about the shitty things that happen
    in this world, but today I’m thankful she’s too young to be afraid of
    anything but the vacuum.”

  5. I totally agree with you. I hugged my wee ones extra yesterday and this morning. I thought the same…someday I will have to try to explain these things to them and will have no clue how.

    (she is extra adorable….I love how toddlers run with abandon full speed to nowhere in particular)

  6. I was thinking a lot about the innocence of youth today…don’t have a kid, but I teach 24 of them (8-9 year olds). When Shady Hook happened, we took GREAT precaution to not even address it in school (some parents requested we not), but today my kiddos came in almost giddy and EXCITED to talk about this. “Did you hear about the bombs?!?!?!?!” One of them even ran in place and then pretended a bomb went off. My initial, adult, reaction was that of being appalled — “These kids are making light of this! How can they be so insensitive??? I need to have a talk with them about how serious this was. They just don’t get it!” And then it sank in…they DON’T get it. They have no frigging clue how scary and dark this world can be yet. They are mentally and emotionally incapable of comprehending that kind of horror. They haven’t lost that innocence, that naiveté, that blissful ignorance. And by God, I wasn’t about to be the one to rip it from them. I just sighed and said, “I know, it’s so sad. My heart hurts for the people involved.” and we moved about our day. Those bubbles will burst eventually… I wanted to let them enjoy their childhoods while they still could.

    Wow, sorry for taking over the comments – so what I’m saying is I agree with you 🙂 Hope you’re doing well. Hug that lil baby as hard as you can… hope this world is a safer place by the time she’s old enough to understand it.

    • You’re doing such a good job! My mom was a teacher for years and years and you people are lucky because even though you have to put up with all of that shit from little kids, you get to experience all that incredible innocence and I think we all would benefit from that. You can take over my comments any time you want. ❤

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