Thursday, September 08, 2005

On Sharing My Children

I've been thinking about the responses to Tertia's post asking how to protect her kids from abuse. (Yes, I know it was a while ago, but I don't really read Tertia that much, I just looked at it when Emma Jane linked to it, since I've been checking Emma Jane daily to see if the baby has arrived. Then once I read it, I thought about it for a while.)

Like Emma Jane, I was disturbed by how many women said that to protect their kids from the possibility of abuse, they would not leave them alone with anybody. Some of these people are clearly coming from a place of great pain, and I respect that pain fully. Like everything we do, we parent out of our own experiences, and if you were left alone with a friend's brother who raped you, of course you will not put your child in such a situation.

I parent from my experience, though, and adults who were not my parents were crucial to my childhood. This is no slur on my parents themselves. This is a comment on the fact that every one of us is limited and can only offer so much. It was my Aunt M who took me to Bloomingdales. It was my mom's friend E who got up early in the morning when she visited and made me poached eggs. It was my friend J's dad who took me sailing. All things my parents simply didn't do, though there are lots of other wonderful things they did do.

Perhaps I've just been lucky. Maybe some day I'll regret it. But so far, my kids have only flourished in the company of others. With J (a male babysitter), they do crafts I would never dream of. With B (another babysitter, female), they get to romp with a big dog which will never happen in any home of mine. At their aunt's house, they run wild with cousins in a huge country backyard. With S and E's dad, they would throw footballs on the roof and tell the stupidest jokes ever (ok, I can do stupid jokes, but not footballs on the roof). Sure, all those things could have happened under my close supervision, but then they wouldn't be their own treasured experiences, like my childhood poached eggs and shopping trips.

I've taught M and E not to let anyone touch them in private places except Mommy, Daddy, and their doctor. I quiz them all the time on what to do in bad situations--if they get lost at the fair, if they can't wake me up, if someone scares them or makes them uncomfortable. But I also hope that I'm teaching them to be open to new experiences and new people, that some strangers can turn out to be your new best friends, that people can be as generous as they can be terrible (think Katrina). It's a hard line to walk, and I hope none of us fall off on the wrong side, but I want my children to embrace life, not to hide from it.

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