When The Horrific No Longer Horrifies

Now that school has begun we are quickly settling into a typical weekday routine. By this stage of the game (Lincoln in 9th grade and Casey in 5th) the engine generally runs pretty smoothly, and today seemed no different until Casey yelled "I hate all this killing!" and stopped making her peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich to turn off the kitchen radio. I irritatingly told her to calm down and then almost immediately caught myself to ask what she was upset about. It turns out the source of her distress was a National Public Radio story about various bombing options in the event Iran gains nuclear capabilities.

I immediately changed my tone and thanked her for being horrified by a story I barely paid attention to while standing only a few feet away. It was damning evidence of how desensitized I have become to the daily diary of death and destruction that saturates me. It is horrible when the horrific no longer horrifies.

How can I both hope and fear that one day she too will stop noticing?