I am an overprotective parent. I know it. I own it. But I have gotten better in the last couple of years. If Brian, on the other hand, had his way, Jordan might never leave the house without a helmet, various padding, and under two constantly watchful eyes. Actually, he would probably prefer her that way at home, now that I think about it.
You have to know your kid, really. And I know that at least for now, I don't have to worry about my kid opening the front door and walking out. I know that my kid won't stray too far from me when we are running errands. I also know my kid has my coordination, which means she is likely to get hurt running around or participating in a sport.
I also know my Jordan has a sweet, sensitive heart. She cries when she watches or hears about the suffering of others. I love when she says, with gusto, "God does not appreciate people being mean." And although she is no longer terrified of Heaven, the thought of anyone other than old people dying scares and deeply saddens her, because until recently she did not think this could happen.
The death of Amy's (from Callapitter) kids, as I noted before, had quite an effect on me. At the time, I did not know them, only that Kate and Peter went to Jordan's school. When Jordan's teacher told me what happened, I went home and tried to find info on the web. And I cried. Even now, almost one year later, I still tear up at times. But my kid never knew about it; because she did not know the kids, I saw no reason to tell her. As it was, we hardly talked about death, since at just before age 5 she reacted badly to the death of a neighbor. Not so much because she knew him, but more because she was afraid of what would happen to us, where we would go. At the time, I told her that she, Daddy, and I would all walk into Heaven hand in hand. Yep, that is what I said.
Eventually I realized I could no longer perpetuate the only-old-people-die myth and I certainly could not hide death in general from her; she was going to Catholic school, so death talk (and gruesome at that) could hardly be avoided. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, a string of funerals in the fall for people she was not very close to helped. Now she can actually talk about these people and events and be okay with them. But still, those people were over 80.
Over the last few months, I have sometimes let Jordan watch the news with me. Jordan knows about Haiti; in fact, she prays for those people every night (though I am fairly certain she does not really know what she is praying for). But until last night, she did not realize that kids died, which, of course, made her cry. And then she asked me how earthquakes, tornadoes, etc., happen. Can they happen to us? Does God make them happen? Why do they happen?
Crap. I struggled with why bad things happen in an earlier post. But now my kid wants to know.
I just wish I had more answers. And, most of all, I wish I could protect my baby girl from every bad, hurtful thing. Sigh.
You have to know your kid, really. And I know that at least for now, I don't have to worry about my kid opening the front door and walking out. I know that my kid won't stray too far from me when we are running errands. I also know my kid has my coordination, which means she is likely to get hurt running around or participating in a sport.
I also know my Jordan has a sweet, sensitive heart. She cries when she watches or hears about the suffering of others. I love when she says, with gusto, "God does not appreciate people being mean." And although she is no longer terrified of Heaven, the thought of anyone other than old people dying scares and deeply saddens her, because until recently she did not think this could happen.
The death of Amy's (from Callapitter) kids, as I noted before, had quite an effect on me. At the time, I did not know them, only that Kate and Peter went to Jordan's school. When Jordan's teacher told me what happened, I went home and tried to find info on the web. And I cried. Even now, almost one year later, I still tear up at times. But my kid never knew about it; because she did not know the kids, I saw no reason to tell her. As it was, we hardly talked about death, since at just before age 5 she reacted badly to the death of a neighbor. Not so much because she knew him, but more because she was afraid of what would happen to us, where we would go. At the time, I told her that she, Daddy, and I would all walk into Heaven hand in hand. Yep, that is what I said.
Eventually I realized I could no longer perpetuate the only-old-people-die myth and I certainly could not hide death in general from her; she was going to Catholic school, so death talk (and gruesome at that) could hardly be avoided. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, a string of funerals in the fall for people she was not very close to helped. Now she can actually talk about these people and events and be okay with them. But still, those people were over 80.
Over the last few months, I have sometimes let Jordan watch the news with me. Jordan knows about Haiti; in fact, she prays for those people every night (though I am fairly certain she does not really know what she is praying for). But until last night, she did not realize that kids died, which, of course, made her cry. And then she asked me how earthquakes, tornadoes, etc., happen. Can they happen to us? Does God make them happen? Why do they happen?
Crap. I struggled with why bad things happen in an earlier post. But now my kid wants to know.
I just wish I had more answers. And, most of all, I wish I could protect my baby girl from every bad, hurtful thing. Sigh.
Comments
If you have no belief system you can say that everything is random, or crap happens. It just is what it is.
Good luck.