I remember being pregnant and being excited to have a baby. A little baby…. a sweet, innocent little being who would hang on every word I said and who I could dress in cute outfits… and buy cute toys… and beam proudly at whenever they accomplished any developmental milestone.
Now I have kids. I don’t think I expected “kids” when I got pregnant. I expected a baby… not these kids who talk back, have their own ideas and thoughts, speak their mind, are picky about what they eat, and are all around different than those little babies who I first met.
Here is where I start to sound like I’m really really old… (and it pains me… big time).
Why are these kids growing up so fast? Why am I now more worried about what my 8-yr old son is learning while he’s at school… and not from the teachers, but from other students? Why am I afraid of the next news headline that my kids may catch while changing the channels on the TV? Why do I worry about him while he’s on the computer playing an Internet game?
He’s just trying to go to school to learn! watch some kid TV! play a video game or learn more than anyone ever wanted to know about meerkats!
I’ve discovered that there are NO safe places for my kids anymore. And it makes me so very sad.
You’ve probably already discovered this… I knew I’d have to protect them over the Internet and block certain shows on television… but at school? How bad could other kids be at eight?
I don’t think I realized the world I would be bringing those babies into when they were born. If I did, would I have had them? Then again, I can’t imagine my world without them.
So I’m going to do whatever I can to protect them… teach them… and hope they make the right decisions.
How scary is that? I’m supposed to be teaching them? What? I’ve had no training! I forget to wear deodorant to work! I’ve left the house with mismatched shoes! I have marmalade colored hair!!
And somehow my Mom just smiles a lot and nods her head in a knowing way when I talk to her about this stuff…