I did something unwise as we were going to bed last night. I fired up Safari on my iPhone to catch up on a couple blogs while Kile tucked the boys in and got into bed himself. This was a poor idea because I read something that brought me to my knees. That sucked the air from my lungs. That made me feel like I was going to throw up. That caused me to cry and ache and alarm my poor husband.

Maddie died last night.

If you haven’t been reading Mamasphor, you may not know Maddie. But I’ve been reading about her and her family for quite a while now. And while I knew that her prematurity gave her a lot of health issues, she was still a vibrant, happy little girl. Not too much older than Evie. I would get nervous whenever Maddie was sick, particularly this last fall when she was hospitalized. But she recovered.

And now? Now…

I knew I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, think of this beautiful little girl and her poor parents. Kile tried to distract me, and it sorta worked. Instead I found myself all upset and enraged about this kid who has been stealing food out of Harry’s lunch at school.  That’s productive, huh?

And when I heard Evie cry and moan over the monitor? Instead of willing her to fall back to sleep like I normally would, I leapt out of bed to retrieve her. I held her tight, reveling in her weight. In her health.  I kissed her head and stroked her hair and cried for a poor baby girl and a mama who won’t get to do that with her daughter ever again.

It’s not fair.  It’s not right.

There isn’t much I or anyone else can do.  But what I can do is donate the paltry amount currently residing in my PayPal account to her March of Dimes campaign and join the walk.  And I shall do both.   How about you?

UPDATE: Heather’s (aka mamaspohr) blog has been down for the better part of the day.  To hear why and what has been done about it, read this.

I continue to be just heartsick about this.  I cannot concentrate on anything.  I weep for a child I never knew.

I want to say for the record that I HATE posts like this.  Nothing bugs me more than a blogger who threatens to pack up her toys and go home.  Are they hoping people talk them out of it?  Are they being overly dramatic?  And no one wants to see someone leave, especially when you’ve gotten used to following their life day in and day out.

That said…

It’s no secret that I’ve been a baaaaad blogger lately.  And that’s mostly been due to being busy and wholly unable to properly juggle my activities.  It’s hard to blog and knit at the same time, after all.  I’ve been trying to remember to come here once a day, but it’s been hard.  I figure in my current state, if I’m blogging at least three times a week, I’m in good shape.

But lately I’ve noticed some other things too, things that more of a threat to my blogging happiness than knitting even (shocking, I know).  It’s attitude.  It’s snarkyness.  It’s pettiness.  It’s anger, judgement and DRAMA.  It hasn’t happened all at once, of course.  Little by little.  Bit by bit.  Comment by post by overtone.  And it’s built up in my heart.  And it makes my heart ache.

I don’t get a lot of drama directed at me.  I’m just li’ ol’ me, eeking out my existance on this small corner of the internet.  I’m pretty grateful for that.  But neither am immune from the drama directed at others.  Whether I know them personally or not.   Should it matter if I KNOW someone, to feel bad for them when mean things are directed their way?  No, it should not. And it does not.

Why are we as people so MEAN to one another?  Why do we say things that we know will hurt feelings?  Why do we judge others choices when those choices have absolutely NOTHING to do with us?  I don’t understand this way of thinking.  I don’t get it at all.  How does snarking at Dooce or any of the other “big name” bloggers improve me and my life?  How does it improve others?  IT DOESN’T.  But people do it all the same and it just DON’T GET IT.  Do people think that if you are a big name that you don’t feel hurt when people snark on you?  Or worse: that if you are a big name, you ASK to have people snark on you?  If you disagree or dislike a person or blog or whatever, then doesn’t it make more sense to turn your attention elsewhere?  Read a blog that you DO like.

I’m so tired of this.  This goes on and on and on… and I hear stories that make me ache.  I see things firsthand that make me scratch my head.  And finally it gets to be too much.  And before you know it, I’m writing a post like this where I wonder aloud if maybe it is time to pack things in.  That maybe the world of blogging has changed so much, TOO much, and that there is no place anymore for someone who wishes to perpetuate kindness to others in the community.

I’m not the sort that takes breaks.  For one thing, they don’t work for me.  If I take a break, then that means I’m that much more likely to just not ever return from a break.  I’m a slacker, remember?  And the laws of inertia are strong with me.  A body at rest tends to stay at rest.  A blogger on break tends to stay on break.  So I know that’s not the answer for me.  Either I blog or I don’t.

I still don’t know.  I’d like to think that there’s more good then bad out there.  I haven’t seen a lot of evidence of that lately.  I don’t know what to think.  I would hate to lose my blog.  I would hate to lose the lovely people who come out to read even when I’ve posted nothing but drivel for the better part of a month.  But I hate to surround myself with negativity too. Maybe the answer is to delete my Google Reader.  I’d hate to lose some of my most favorite blogs, but I have to admit, I think this would definitely help.

Time will tell.

I’m trying (very hard) not to feel too bad about going to BlogHer this year.  I’ve known for a while that going this year was pretty much out of the question.  Short of a completely free trip (RIGHT), there was no way I could feasibly go.  And it’s not just the money thing.  We’re going on that big cruise/Disney World/extravaganza just weeks after BlogHer is scheduled and that’s an awful lot of traveling.  So yeah, if a fully comped deal had landed in my lap, I could make it work.  Since the last time I checked such things do not exist, I am not making it work.  I’m not going.

I made no secret that last year’s BlogHer was a little… less.  It was very, very, VERY hard to go with the family.  Even with Harry staying with my parents, having to deal with Evie made it VERY hard.  And while the day care set up was awesome (SERIOUSLY, if you are thinking of going with a child, TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THAT.  The people there were awesome and Liam had a great time), it had limitations.  Mostly in that at 5-5:30 or so, day care was over and it’s hard to go to night clubs with two year olds.  I think I was in bed by 8 that night, my heart sick with stress and frustration.  The next problem was parking.  And check out.  Sure, we could have solved that by paying for an extra day of parking and an extra night at the hotel.  But we are notorious cheapskates.  We had to be back in San Jose on Saturday to celebrate my dad’s birthday and why pay for another hotel night when we wouldn’t stay there?  And the parking was outrageously expensive and paying a whole day for just a few more hours just didn’t jive with my practical side.  So by checking out by noon, we lost a place for me to go and nurse Evie and rest and have downtime (the nursing room provided was small, filled with uncomfortable chairs and cold as heck), and we lost a place to put all our stuff.  Kile had suggested moving the van to a place down the street where he could pay to park it for a few hours and we could keep our stuff in there.  But, heart-sick again, I gave up.  The Gods had deemed the whole thing a loss.  So we left at lunch.

Even now, writing that out, I still feel so incredibly sad about how it all ended up.  No ones fault, to be sure (except maybe my own).  But still so sad.  It was just hard to manage with kids.

If I had gone this year, it would probably be by myself, sans children.  Which is awfully optimistic of myself because even though Evie is closing in on her first birthday, she shows no sign of wanting to wean and still rejects virtually every other method of liquid intake available.  So even if I took Evie with me and put her in day care, I’d need to go feed her or whatever.  Which, yeah, I could make it work.

But the point is: I’m not.  I’m not going.  It feels weird to admit that since I have gone for three years now.  I’m going to miss some fabulous ladies this year.  So you’ll have to forgive me if I avoid all discussions about BlogHer.  If I roll my eyes at mentions of roommates, parties, sessions and swag.  If I stick my fingers in my ears and go “LALALALAICAN’THEARYOULALALA”.  It’s nothing personal and it’s just me being a little bitter.  (Save me some swag, please?  I’ll be your best friend!)

Do you ever feel blue?

Do you ever wonder when things will “get easier”?

Do you ever then stop and wonder if maybe what is hard for you isn’t so hard for someone else?

Do you ever think someone (everyone) will think you are lame, a drama queen, pathetic, soft, etc because you have such a hard time?

Do you ever feel as though, regardless of how self-conscious you are about it, that the world is weighing on your shoulders ALL THE TIME?

Do you ever wake up in the night with your jaw and fists clenched?

Do you ever have a hard time just making yourself RELAX?

Do you ever think that maybe you are harming your children in some way with your sadness? Maybe not the little ones because they don’t notice as much but the nine-year-old for sure?

Do you ever wonder if they would be truly better off without you?

Do you ever watch those depression medication commercials and think that the “depressed” person is actually pretty normal?

Do you ever watch those same commercials and think that the happy person “after” the medication is unrealistic because NO WAY is anyone that happy on a general basis?

Do you ever think those silly online “Are You Depressed” quizes don’t apply to you because they ask if you have ever contemplated suicide and of course you would never, ever do that?

Do you ever then think that while you don’t have the stomach for a razor blade that maybe a fatal accident or fatal illness would be the better way to go?

Do you ever stop and realize how weird that sounds and that you are beyond stupid for even thinking it in the first place?

Do you ever then find a little voice saying in the back of your head, “Even if it’s true?”

Do you ever wonder if maybe you aren’t getting over the death of your child, spouse, parent, loved-one as well as you thought you were?

Do you find yourself having this entire monologue with yourself while you’re taking a shower, trying to will your sore muscles to relax and realizing that the hot water has already been mostly used up?

Do you ever then think that maybe you deserve not to have hot water for thinking such silly and stupid thoughts?

If you have or if you do, then we have something in common, I think.