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I’ve had this post on hold since Friday afternoon. Just… didn’t feel right posting. I’ve been feeling very quiet since the Newtown shootings – much like I did after Superstorm Sandy. A combination of grateful and grieving. I don’t have any idea what the families of Newtown are going through – I can’t even imagine. For the victims, for the survivors – how do you go to school again? How do you cope with something so basic being forever associated with tragedy – both as a parent, and as a kid. You’re in first grade, how do you spend eleven more years going in and out of schools after this? I have no idea and it just breaks my heart.

This afternoon I was singing to Paulo, as I so often do, and I found myself singing “You are my sunshine” and got to “Please don’t take my sunshine away” and had to stop. It’s such a ubiquitous song. All those parents probably sang it to their babies, never thinking their sunshine would be taken away. I’ve been trying to think of a next sentence, and I don’t have one that fits. I don’t pretend to know why this happened or how we can stop it from happening again. All I can do is teach my own child peace and how to channel his anger in ways that don’t hurt others.

Which brings us to my own child. It seems silly to write about him having a cold, but here we are. Last week was the Week of The Great Cancellation here at Alves Manor. Everything was cancelled. Everything. Tea with a friend? Cancelled. Rescheduled. Cancelled again. A doctor’s appointment of mine? Cancelled. Playdate? Cancelled. Everything. It’s not that the cold itself was awful – mostly just a cough – but that he kept waking, coughing, and crying every hour and a half for three nights in a row and the combination of being sick and overtired was too much for him to handle. We medicated with extra naps and… well… a few too many extra cartoons…

… which brings us to this week, the Week of The Great Cartoon Embargo. Since Saturday, Paulo has watched one half-hour of cartoons. We discovered this weekend that he had become quite addicted to his good pal Kipper the Dog and in the interest of not watching TV all the time, we pulled the plug with the plan of reintroducing cartoons slowly as treats, which is what our intentions were w/r/t TV all along. He got to watch the Kipper Christmas Special this afternoon when we got home from the Children’s Museum and needed to kill a little time before dinner, which is exactly the sort of thing cartoons were meant for.

The rest of the Alves clan has managed to escape the cough of doom and now that The Whuff has ceased his flashback to newborn sleeping patterns, we’re starting to feel almost human, just in time for the Week of Catching Up on Everything We Couldn’t Do Last Week.

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