I was going to write today about how Charlotte was a monumental asshole this weekend, testing my patience and will to live with every passing minute.

And then I rolled over, with her little body still curled up beside me, and I saw the news alerts on my phone about what is now the deadliest mass shooting in United States history.

And then I went to work, and saw more of the story and terrifying videos from the scene, with a death toll currently at 50 and the injured list climbing past 400.

Sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, husbands, wives.  All of their lives irrevocably changed.

So I’m not going to write about my child testing my will to live.  Because I am alive and I HAVE a will to live.

I don’t have anything else to say.  There’s a lump in my throat and a knot in my stomach.  When is enough, enough?