Mad, Mad World

I’m thinking of embedding some kind of electronic sensor in my children’s arms so that I know where they are at all times.  Who they’re with.  What they’re saying.  If they’re in danger.

I am a control freak in a world that is spinning out of control.

Maybe it has always been this way and it didn’t enrage every fiber of my being because I was only responsible for myself.  I was obsessed with the kidnapping and subsequent “happy ending” of Elizabeth Smart, sickened by the senseless death of Laci Peterson and infuriated by the secret life of Wolfgang Priklopil and his incarceration of daughter Natascha Kampusch.  I’m currently raging about bullying in schools and 11-year-olds becoming pregnant.

A recent rash of stories has me even more inclined to place a giant bubble around my home and never let my children out of my sight, yet even as I write this, Ryan is gearing up to take a bus home.  A bus!  Wasn’t there just a Chinatown bus driver who killed two people and injured dozens more this past weekend?  Sigh. 

Our brains are wired to “push aside” a certain measure of fear so that we can go about our normal lives.  But a parent’s brain must look like a jumble of exploding red wires upon reading the following:

Where do these people come from?  Could their lives have turned out differently?  How many lives are ruined by these senseless acts?

I blame parents.  I blame pornography.  I blame parents.  I blame the media.  I blame parents.  I blame violence.  I blame parents.  I blame lack of education.  I blame parents.  I blame greed and entitlement.  I blame parents.  I blame reality TV.  I blame parents

I’m so sick of hearing and saying “the world is going to hell.”  I want to be part of the solution. 

So, what is it?

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