Author: Melissa

I innocently walk into the bathroom. Holding my freshly brewed cup of coffee, just to check on my little guy who is about to take his nap. And almost spit the coffee out of my mouth.

He’s standing there, holding a wad of toilet paper as big as his head. There was poo everywhere. There was poo all down his leg, on his BACK, on the potty, on the floor, on the wall, on his foot – his FOOT, people.

It was one of those parenting moments when you’re just speechless. You can’t even think of what to say. Things like “How?” and “Why?” just don’t seem to cover the confusion you’re feeling about how what just happened just happened.

20 minutes, half a canister of Lysol wipes, lots of Purell and a bath for Colin later, al I can say is OHMYWORD, I need a vacation.

I have to go redisinfect the bathroom now, just to be safe . And probably my kid, too.

Last week, I was watching CNN and Gracie came in and joined me. Coverage of the school shooting in Chardon came up and they were talking about the school being in lockdown.

“Wait,” said Grace. “THAT’S what ‘Lockdown’ is? People shooting???”

What is a mom to say? Yes, that is what lockdown is. It is for when there is a danger in the school that you need protecting from. She’s only in first grade, she has no idea what lockdown really was… it was just another thing, like a fire drill or the ‘duck and cover’ earthquake drills I did growing up in California.

She was confused and horrified. It didn’t take long for her to put two and two together.

“So, when my school was in lockdown, there was someone shooting?”

“No, the gunman wasn’t in your school.”
“Then why were we in lockdown?”
“Well… he was near the school.”
“But, why? Why would someone want to shoot people? Why would someone want to hurt us?”

There’s the question, isn’t it? How can you explain something that makes no sense? Especially to a child. A sweet, sensitive child who cried when the hermit crab died, still cries at night because she misses her great grandma and says that she wants to work in a nursing home someday because she “loves giving old people hugs.” How can you convey to this child the inexplicable idea that people are capable of positively evil things that you cannot even imagine? That there are people who would purposely hurt her?

I’m speechless. Truly speechless.