My newspapers sit, mostly unread, in a heap on the kitchen table or a chair or the floor.
After years of listening all day, every day, I don't listen to NPR any more, as Z now hears and understands so much, and there is so much I wish to shield her from.
I only turn on the TV to watch something specific on the DVR and I haven't watched the local or national news in years.
I get most of my news from two-day-old Daily Shows.
I live in a bubble.
When the earthquake in Haiti happened, I found out about it on Facebook. Why are all these people suddenly updating about praying for the people of Haiti?
I still haven't seen many images or heard many stories and I'm okay with that. My brain is like a three year old's: images haunt my dreams for days afterward, stories that happen to someone else far away often feel like they are happening to me, right here, right now.
Z isn't the only one whose brain is in need of protection.
But what little I have heard and what little I have seen about the devastation in Haiti is horrific. Moving. Desperate.
I didn't mean to cheapen or belittle the situation by linking it to Delurking Day. And I was so excited to read about your favorite charities, though I was often moved to tears by some of the stories on the charities' websites. There are so many groups doing such great work.
Specific numbers be damned, I am donating $100 to the Red Cross for their relief efforts.
I am also donating $100 to the charity that the most people listed in my comments yesterday: Doctors Without Borders. I couldn't have picked a single 'favorite', not after reading about the important work they do at St. Jude's or looking at the pictures on Smile Train's website or thinking about women suffering from fistulas in Ghana.
I am still happy to be in a bubble and I am committed to staying in it for my own sanity. I realize how very lucky I am to be able to live such a protected and gentle life. I just wish there was more I could do for those who aren't so fortunate.