We all agree that we are done with 2016. Completely over it.

Too much negative energy. Too much scary news. Too many untimely deaths.

When the news of Carrie Fisher’s death broke, like everyone else, I was terribly sad to hear it. Though I’m not a huge Star Wars person – don’t email me; I won’t read it =D – I loved HER. So smart, so funny, so honest, so real.

Then, I met Gary, her Frenchie Service dog. And my big ol’ dog mom heart just BROKE that they wouldn’t be together anymore. That was on Tuesday.

But so much worse was coming tonight.

Earlier today, my husband sent me a text that Debbie Reynolds had been rushed to the hospital.

And, of course, it turned out later that she passed away.

As news has come out, fifteen minutes before her stroke, she said, “I just want to go be with Carrie. I miss her so much.”

And this mama’s heart just broke into a million pieces.

I am terribly sorry for the rest of the family, for Carrie’s brother and daughter and all the others.

But, honestly, I’m thankful Debbie was spared anymore suffering and could just go be with her daughter.

Because I know I’m not the only mama whose chest starts hurting even at the thought of the horrifying situation she was facing. And I’m sure I’m not alone in having been just wrecked by the awfulness of it all.

So, throughly unsettled, I had to stop thinking about it.

My schedule was swapped around at the last minute, my better half, exhausted from a long day, had fallen asleep in his recliner, and I needed to get to working on some more uplifting things for a bit.

So, I came to my perch in our bedroom, with my books and my tablet and my nifty new planner I need to set up before Sunday.

At 12:36 AM, both of my girls said good night (my son is off visiting his dad this week) and I started to work.

Shortly thereafter, my oldest returned to ask to watch a movie. I told her to hop on the other side of the bed and she could watch her movie in here – honestly, I would stick my kids in my pocket for a few days until this icky icky feeling goes away if they would fit – while I worked on my things.

A few minutes later, my youngest appeared with stomach bug issues. Some Zofran, Sprite, a cool rag, my side of the bed for her, me and my stuff to the floor, and on with the movie we went.

At around three, the movie ended.

By then, her stomach and my nerves had settled and it was time to try for bed again.

I’ve had a few more wander through visits since, what with the plague and all.

I don’t mind.

Because it doesn’t matter if they are three or thirteen or sixty, our babies are our babies.

I’m giving extra thanks for this healthy, loud, funny, crazy, wild rumpus of mine tonight.

I’m sure lots of other mamas are too.

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Godspeed, Carrie and Debbie. I hope there are many amazing things for you to do together on the other side.