Here we are in the world of kindergarten. We pour dry beans in containers and weigh them. We learn the beginnings of reading. We get to play with the parachute and scooters. We eat snack and are thrilled to be picked as a helper. We devote great amounts of art time to dinosaurs and monsters. Our friends tell us about inappropriate acts they are doing with little girls. Wait! That isn't supposed to happen in kindergarten, or first grade, or sixth, or eleventh....
So why on earth did my kindergartner come tell me about this? This isn't supposed to happen.
I always had an idea in my head that my kid wouldn't deal with this kind of stuff. This was the kind of thing that happened to trashy families. The kind that don't really pay attention to who is with their kids or what they are doing. I am here to tell you. I happens to anybody.
I can be at home.
I can be at the bus stop.
I can go to the library.
I can go to church.
I can be at the store.
I can not ride the bus. I can not control or divert what is said there. Even if I am the best mom in the entire world I can not be everywhere. Nor would that be healthy for my children if I was to do so.
Parent of said child was less than thrilled when I informed them. Understandably. I am very proud of my son. When they came to interrogate him about what he said he stuck to his story and didn't back down or change it. This is because he was telling the truth. a
I don't want you to think I am angry at this other child. I'm not. My heart goes out to he and his parents. Someone is stealing his innocence. Children should have a time when they don't worry or think about this kind of stuff. They should have time to be innocent.
Sometimes I just don't want my kids to leave my side. They have to. I have to let them go, but that doesn't mean I am not going to try to undo damage or change situations later.
Oooh, yucky. I will pray for you all, and especially for the poor little guy. I hope they can get him really good help. The trail of wreckage caused by one nasty abuser is truly stunning. urgh. Yeah. Not a favorite parent moment.
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