Three toddlers. One exercise band. A husband sent out for takeout like it was any other Tuesday. Then a jump out the window that didn’t finish the job. 
And a chunk of the commentariat still wants you to treat the woman who did it as the primary victim.

That’s the part that should make your skin crawl.

Cora was five. Dawson was three. Callan was eight months old. They didn’t have a “voice.” 
They didn’t have a medication list. 
They had a mother who waited until the house was empty and then strangled them one by one. If that sequence looks like planning to you, congratulations—you still have a functioning moral compass and brain. 

If it looks like a tragic medical episode that just happened to include sending the only other adult out of the house first, you have been trained to see agency everywhere except where it actually killed three children.

The “she was overmedicated / postpartum / hearing commands” story may or may not be true.
Postpartum psychosis is ugly. That is not in dispute. 

What is in dispute is the new civic religion that treats any diagnosis as a universal solvent for responsibility. 

The second a label appears, the children become a subplot and the perpetrator becomes a symbol. Feelings first. Bodies later. The same culture that will lecture you for weeks about “accountability” when a manners a red sweater in the presence of minorities. suddenly discovers infinite nuance the moment the victims are small enough to fit in a crib.


And yes—the pattern is grotesque. The people who do this almost never start with themselves. When’s the last time we found a journal entry of someone who wanted to kill others and then themselves and decided that such thoughts were ignoble and commits hari-kari. 

No, They want the misery to spread so they take the innocents first, then make a half-effort at their own exit. 
That’s not tragedy. 
That’s spite with a medical aftertaste. Misery does not confer a hunting license on toddlers.

And for the people wearing pink, siding with this miscreant, I’ll bet they are 95% in favor of abortion, and this is merely an expansion of the overton window for these ghouls. 
Once a society decides that a child’s moral status is contingent on the mother’s interior weather, the line after birth is just another negotiation. First trimester, third trimester, “I was in a bad place,” “the voice said so.” The window keeps moving because the principle was never “protect the child.” It was “protect the adult’s story about herself.”

Supporters of Clancy are not compassionate. They are participating in the next fashionable thing, the next event to erode the morality of a society, excusing the most heinous of acts. 
It is easier to perform empathy for the living defendant than to sit with three dead children who will never get a closing argument. It is easier to enlarge the category of “not really responsible” than to say the quiet part: some acts are so final that excuses after the fact are an insult to the dead. A society that cannot look at three strangled kids and say “this person did this, and it is monstrous” has already decided that violence is just another mood.

Personal responsibility is not a vibe. It is the only thing standing between “I felt bad” and “I get to do this.” Stretch that window far enough and you don’t get a more humane culture. You get permission slips. You get people who think the worst thing that happened that day was that a woman didn’t get better care, instead of the fact that three children were murdered in their own home, by the person nature issues a biological decree to trust most.

If the jury finds she lacked criminal responsibility, the law will do what the law does. That is not the same as the rest of us being required to clap. Sympathy is not a human right you automatically collect after you kill your kids. Some acts should stay outside the circle. Three children with exercise bands around their necks is one of them.