How will I talk to my children tonight? When they come home from school, what will I say?
As I was typing this, thinking hard about how to talk to my children in the wake of this tragedy in Newtown, CT, I saw an alert that my friend Jessica had already written a post on parenting through tragedy and a 24 hour news cycle.
Her advice, very valid, was to turn off the tv. Childhood is brief and honestly, do your children really need to know about this?
I wish I had this luxury.
We live in a wiredÂ and connected world and for my family, with children ranging from 4 though 16, innocence is at a premium. I could, and will, turn off my television to spare the anxiety of aerial views and anxious speculation. But this is not enough. I cannot put blinders on them. Even in the third grade – their friends have smartphones. Little pitchers no longer have big ears. They have wifi.
Their siblings won’t shut their mouths. Their teachers and friends parents will let something slip. My kids will be listening.
Then they will whisper in the dark at bedtime. They will confer in the back of the car.
I’m not off the hook. Not by a longshot.
I expect that our school will send out advice, and as Jessica suggests, the web will come alive with child psychology experts and advocates all full of advice about how best to preserve your children’s sanity. They will offer reality checks to help us retain our own.Â New security policies will be born, amidst much arguing and more expert opinions so we can feel safe putting our kids on the bus and yes, we’ll return to our lives and our holiday shopping with aplomb.
Everyone will agree on one thing. They will all say this.
“Hug your Children”
It’s already been a tough week around here. A dear friend lost a son last week in a senseless tragedy – the personal impact of which hasn’t paled for me in the wake of today’s news. One of my daughter’s classmates held a bittersweet sleepover last week, prior to her mom starting another round of chemo. Her father died of cancer a year ago, and her mom is really sick.
We’ve talked about this stuff some. Not too much. But some.
Death, dying, tragedy seem to be all around us this holiday season. I was already melancholy. I’m not glad for the company. I’m thinking hard about how I’ll frame my words for my kids, my words after all, help frame their world. I’m not getting out of it.