That is why this quarantine thing is so difficult. I can’t understand how parents of young children can be expected to parent their toddlers 24/7 with no breaks. And to make matters worse, there are no parks to play at, no pools to swim in, no museums to visit, and no friends to play with. I cannot even imagine what I would have done with my kids if I had been offered no source of recreation for them. We went to the zoo, a park, or the pool EVERY SINGLE DAY. I did not cope well with keeping them at home. Small children need diversion. They need to keep their minds and bodies occupied — learning, moving, growing, DOING. It is not natural to grow up inside four walls. I’m not even going through the most important developmental growth of my life, and I still feel like my spirit is being crushed. All these poor children are missing out on so many crucial milestones, and they aren’t being given the opportunity to MISS their moms and dads.

The beauty of having toddlers and getting to say goodbye to them for a few hours every once in a while is that they feel genuinely sad when you leave them, and it is important for them to feel that sadness, so that the joy they feel when you return can be cherished and remembered. Have you ever felt more like a celebrity than when you picked your toddler up from school and he ran to you with open arms for a big hug? There is truly nothing better than that reunion. All over the world right now, parents and children are missing out on that crucial part of the dance. It is one of my favorite parts of the dance where you get to lead, because it is when your child’s love for you is so big that you are their whole world. Yet sometimes that love can be so overpowering, so all-encompassing that you need a little break, and you get to take a step away every once in a while. How can you possibly live up to such lofty expectations 24/7? That is why that little respite while your toddler is at school or with Grandpa can be so important, so you can just spend 3 hours not being the center of someone’s universe.

Then your children grow to school age, and you both need breaks from each other, which is perfect because they are at school for 7 hours, and that is a nice healthy chunk of time for them to interact with peers, learn, grow, exercise, and have fun. Likewise, you can have more time for yourself, more time for work, more time to interact with grown ups, because having conversations exclusively with elementary school children can be quite tedious. There is only so much you can say about poop before you need to talk to someone about something more enlightening. And all over the world right now, families are finding out how difficult it is for kids and parents to be in each other’s space ALL THE TIME. I can’t imagine how difficult it is to just keep dancing together all day and all night. They must all be completely exhausted.

My children are all teenagers now, and this is the part of the dance where they lead, because they never want to be around their parents. They get to choose when to take some steps back from us. They perpetually have plans. They go here and there. They test limits and push boundaries and attempt to spread their wings. It is funny, because now if I know that my kids don’t have plans, I will cancel my plans just for the chance to hang out with them, because I miss them so much. I truly delight in their company, these wonderful humans that came from my body. Okay, MOST of the time. Sometimes they do drive me completely crazy when they pull reckless, irresponsible teenage stunts, but for the most part, I just really like being with them. So, for us quarantine is hard because they are so miserable without their friends, and I find myself in the totally unfamiliar territory of wishing they could go out and see their friends again.

Lastly, the children become the grown ups, and if you are lucky, and you have danced the dance gracefully, your children will want to keep dancing with you. They will seek you out to dance with them and to teach them the new steps when they become parents themselves, as I have done with my parents. And the dance becomes even more beautiful when we decide which steps of theirs we want to mimic and which steps we want to create for ourselves. But here again, quarantine has robbed many of us of the company of our aged parents and their wisdom. And we sit at home, adding unwanted pounds and the sadness and emptiness of the missing dance in an effort to keep our parents safe.

This parent and child dance has been done for centuries, but even in the Middle Ages, parents and children got to take breaks from one another. Even during wars and famines, there was a village to shoulder the Herculean task of raising children to be good, decent, caring people and capable dance partners, but now we are all on our own. It is frightening, overwhelming, and exhausting, but my sincere hope is that we will learn something from it all.

Perhaps we will come out of quarantine with a new dance, a crazy, elaborate, astonishing ballet of independence and self-reliance, a tango of appreciation and new-found respect for care-givers of any sort. Perhaps, our world will open up to a variety of dances that showcase the amazing talents of our children and ourselves and give us a way to tap dance into the future with a confidence and grace that our ancestors could not even conceive of.

In 1995, I was an impressionable young coed, and I saw 12 Monkeys and Outbreak. Those movies terrified me. I really liked Horror movies at the time, and I was pretty into Thrillers, but something about the idea of the human population being systematically wiped out by a mysterious illness really did not sit well with me. It gave me the heebie-jeebies because, I knew deep in my gut that that could really happen, and there would be no escape from it. I couldn’t sleep, contemplating the possible threat of a spreading sickness that could not be stopped.

So maybe that is why my brain just won’t turn off. Before this started, I had adopted a pretty successful meditation practice, but since COVID-19, I literally cannot sit and stop my thoughts for a moment. It is not that I am necessarily afraid of falling ill, or dying, but the face of our society has changed so dramatically that it is unsettling. One of my best friends, best described as a “hugger” does this bizarre dance every time she encounters a person in the world that she loves just to try to hold herself back from the hug that she wants so badly to give, and it breaks my heart a little every time I see it. Human beings were not meant to be isolated. When I hear my preschool students’ parents talking about their kids begging to go back to school, I just feel so sad for them. They are too little to understand all of this, and it must feel like some kind of punishment to them.

There is so much judgement going on. Are those people really going for a run together? Are they really letting grandparents babysit their kids? Shouldn’t that senior citizen be wearing a mask? Is it safe for that first responder to be a caregiver for his elderly father? But here’s the problem: people have to do what they have to do. Maybe those runners are sisters and they have seen each other everyday since they were born. Maybe those parents both have to go to work, and with all the daycares closed, they have no other options for childcare. Maybe that senior citizen tried wearing a mask, and she couldn’t breathe and hyperventilated in her anxiety. Maybe the first responder figures it is safer for him to care for his dad than to put him in a home where COVID infection is much more likely. We need to realize that there have to be exceptions. Not everyone can be held to the highest standards, and that is okay. Most of us are doing the best we can in a world that is unlike anything any of us have ever lived through.

It is important to be gracious, and to find gratitude. That part is really hard, but you can be thankful for a pretty day, or for a note from a friend, or for a Facetime call, or a Zoom cocktail party. You can be thankful for a delicious dinner, or even for s’mores and a fire pit. I keep seeing these signs that say, “I dare you to find me not smiling.” The message is that it should not be an inconvenience or an imposition to save the lives of our neighbors, of our fellow human beings, so we should not complain. I wholeheartedly agree that it is our duty as people to protect one another, and I will stay at home, and wear a mask at the grocery in order to keep others safe, but I think it should be okay to feel sad sometimes about all that we are missing. I am a swimmer. I haven’t been in a pool for 2 months. The longest I have gone without swimming in the last 10 years is probably 2 weeks, when I traveled to Scotland. I truly feel like a fish out of water. I am a preschool teacher. I thrive on the energy of small people running at me for hugs, and I miss that energy so much. You very well might catch me not smiling. You might catch me crying, and that is okay. I can cry and then find some joy in a walk with my husband a little later. We are allowed to feel our feelings.

One of the greatest sources of joy that I can find in all of this is the leadership of Governor Beshear. It is refreshing to see a politician be articulate, compassionate, intelligent, and kind. But what is really astonishing, what you almost never see from a politician is the ability to assume blame. When Governor Andy says, “That’s on me,” I think every woman in Kentucky gets a little bit weak in the knees, because any time a man assumes responsibility for a mistake, it is a beautiful thing, and even more beautiful is the willingness to apologize. He is just an inherently decent man, and he cares so deeply for his people. He takes a great deal of pride in his work, and you can see how much the people that work closely with him respect him. It is a comfort to know that he is in charge of what happens to all of us.

I think the greatest thing we can all do is hope. I hope for this strange new existence to become a little bit easier for us all. I hope that a vaccine can be developed and we can stop living in fear of what this disease will do to our beloved aged, infirm, and unlucky. I hope that this strange way of life will help people realize that maybe we don’t need to be so reliant on our cars and the earth will continue to see the healing benefits of lower emissions. I hope that I will see all my friends and family again soon. I hold so much hope in my heart for a brighter future.

One benefit of being stuck at home with your kids and your partner is that it gives you the opportunity of seeing how your children’s other parent goes about daily rituals in a way that may differ from your own, and you and your partner can look at one another’s strategies and see how one person’s way of approaching bedtime may differ radically from another’s and maybe they both work equally well, or maybe you observe that your partner does things in a way that seems to work more efficiently, so you adopt some of their tactics. If you DO happen to notice that your partner is really good at something like getting the kids to brush their teeth, don’t forget to compliment them on their success. Remember that you are called “partners” for a reason. You are working together. Just like you created those little treasures as a team, it’s your job to raise them as a team, and when one of your teammates scores a goal, or gets a rebound, you give them a high-five, or a pat on the back.

My children are all teenagers, so the dynamics are somewhat different, but we can divide and conquer with tasks related to our offspring. My husband is very tech savvy, so he is very good at helping them when they have difficulties with online school, and I try to make sure he knows how grateful I am that he has taken on that task. I make sure that everyone is eating properly and getting enough sleep, and somewhat paying attention to their personal hygiene, and my husband lets me know that he appreciates my efforts. One small thank you goes a long way, especially for the little things one does every day, because all the little things add up to a lot of effort, and when your partner does something for you or your kids so that you don’t have to, that is a way of showing you love. Gratitude is very important, especially in a partnership. People like to be thanked; it reminds us that we are valuable.

The best way to cultivate a relationship is to spend time together. That’s why we are all feeling so sad and disconnected from our friends right now. Relationships need time like a plant needs water and sunlight, so this time together is the greatest gift a marriage can get. Before quarantine, all the little things that happened to you during the course of a normal day were often forgotten in the hectic rush to get the kids from school, take them to soccer practice, feed them dinner and put them to bed. Then you didn’t have the chance to talk to each other and laugh or commiserate about what challenges or wins the day brought. Theoretically, you got married because your spouse is a person you find easy to talk to, so here is your chance to talk. You can talk about things in front of your kids — not everything, obviously, but it is important for your kids to see their parents connecting with each other, so it is okay if the conversation is over their heads, and you are not focused on entertaining them at every moment. You may even be shocked to find that your 5 year-old thinks the meme relating Renaissance women in paintings laying around all naked and chubby to Coronavirus times is just as hilarious as you do. Or perhaps you discover that your 7 year-old has strong feelings about Donald Trump’s hairdo, and instead of just having an interesting political discussion with your significant other, you’ve just created lifelong memories with your family.

I am not saying that this time should be easy, because, it is not. At all. Our lives have been turned upside down, but our partner should be the delicious whipped cream on top of this giant turd pie we have been served. Keep inviting each other into your thoughts and dreams, your fears and hopes, your ideas and failures, because if you stick together and use this time to grow closer, then maybe when life goes back to “normal,” you will realize that spending time with your partner is something you want to carve out more time for in the future.

Thank you for divorcing my dad. It was probably the hardest decision you ever made. I’m sure you felt pressure from society, from your family, and from your friends to stay married, but you bravely stood up for yourself and decided that you are worthy of love. Don’t get me wrong; my dad is a great guy, but you guys did not love each other, and sometimes you just have to face the facts that no amount of counseling will heal a broken marriage.

Many people would argue that coming from a broken home is damaging to a child’s psyche, but I disagree completely. What damaged me as a child was seeing how unhappy my parents made each other. One of the most valuable things a child can see is someone truly loving her mother and her father, and her parents loving someone in return. Kids need to see a partnership — two people working together to make a family function. That can’t happen when husband and wife don’t care about each other deeply. I am enormously grateful that I get to see both of my step-parents adore my parents now, and my parents adore their respective partners. It reinforces the inherent fact that we all deserve to be valued and loved by another person. If you stay in a bad marriage, you are teaching your child that you think you are unworthy of love, and that is simply not true.

I totally understand the fear of leaping off the cliff and entering a world where you are suddenly raising your children by yourself. It must be terrifying. But the great thing is, that your spouse has to take care of them sometimes too, and then you have only yourself to worry about. That sounds pretty great, right? Don’t feel like fixing dinner? Don’t. Eat a bowl of cereal and watch grown-up movies in your jammies. Want to go out drinking with your lady friends? The kids are at their dad’s, so GO for it! Feel like trying out that new kickboxing class? It’s mom’s night, so go kick some ass.

When my parents got divorced, it forced my dad to take a more active role in parenting me, and we became much closer. I am so grateful that I have that bond with my dad, and I don’t think we would have formed it if he had not been forced to really raise me. It also helped give me some responsibility. My dad would leave instructions for food that needed to be put in the oven at a certain time, and I felt useful. I was learning how to become a valuable cog in the machinery that made our family run.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not promoting divorce for everyone. I, for one, plan to stay married to my husband forever. I am madly in love with him and he supports me in every way. Taking care of him makes me happy. However, I am so thankful that you were brave enough to take that giant leap off a cliff, Mom and improve not just your own life, but the lives of your children, your ex-husband, and two really fantastic step-parents. Your grandkids get a pretty sweet deal out of it too. Three sets of grandparents are a nice bonus.

Somehow, the land of the free and the home of the brave has become a place where bigotry, prejudice, bullying, hatred, and intolerance are accepted. All of the sudden, these groups of people with fear and venom in their souls are coming out of the woodwork, because they think it is okay to lash out at anything or anyone who is OTHER.

But isn’t OTHERness what makes our country great? Wasn’t the U.S.A. founded as a “melting pot” of mixed cultures and customs? Didn’t people from all around the world come here in pursuit of the American Dream? Didn’t the pilgrims leave England to escape religious persecution? And here are these criminals persecuting OTHERS because of their religion.

As I watched the babies being wheeled out of the center in their cribs, I asked myself, “Why? Why would someone want to threaten all of these people — elderly citizens seeking company and entertainment, young professionals pursuing career goals, people of all ages trying to stay fit and healthy, infants and toddlers wanting nothing more than to be safe and well taken care of until Mommy and Daddy come to pick them up?” I cannot understand it. How will those parents explain to their four and five-year-olds tonight that they had to leave their school today because we live in a world where people want to frighten OTHERS away, because they are Jewish, or Muslim, or Black, or Foreign? How do I explain it to my teenagers and my ten-year-old? To me, it is inexplicable.

And yet…I have hope. On the very same day that this deplorable show of intolerance occurred, something beautiful happened. A simple act of human kindness touched my husband’s life today. As he was walking home from dropping our children at school with our dog, someone stopped him. A school bus driver who notices Junior walking everyday offered a gift to him. Junior is a pit bull, arguably the most persecuted of all dog breeds, feared and hated, banned in many communities because of the actions of a few pits who were specially bred and trained by humans to fight. But here was this person, who looked at Junior and saw just a dog, a dog who walks everyday — rain or shine — and who needed a rain coat, so she gave him one.

This is what we need in our country. We need people who see not OTHERS, but one human nation of people. We are all the same. When we see a person in need, let us clothe her or feed him or offer her solace, regardless of race, creed, gender, religion, or sexuality. Let us stand up for the Little Guy, for the OTHERS, for all Americans. Let us remember that diversity is what makes the United States so unique and wonderful. I have hope that we can still be a country of tolerance and acceptance.

My husband is very good at his job. He loves developing software, and sometimes he wants to share that gift. Last summer, he taught a class to young people interested in learning computer programming. I was a little bit sad that every Tuesday night all summer, we would be deprived of his company, because evenings, especially summer evenings that are normally devoid of school activities and sports functions, are family time for us. However, I knew it was important to him to do this. He wanted to share his gift, to feel useful, to help others. And he did. I loved seeing how much being a teacher fulfilled him. As a teacher myself, it was such a treat to get to see my husband experience the joy of watching a student succeed because of something he taught.

One of the things that makes me feel useful is feeding others. I love to invite people into my home and cook for them. It is my gift to share and my passion. I know that sometimes it is a strain for Mark, because he is such an introvert and he enjoys his alone time so much, so I try to make sure we have some nights that are just the five of us. He is very understanding and tolerant of my constant stream of dinner guests, though, and I appreciate the fact that he knows it makes me feel good about myself. He is even supportive enough to do the dishes, although maybe that is just his way of sneaking off to get some alone time.

I recently read an article about unhealthy, abusive relationships, and one of the things that the author made clear was that her ex-husband made her feel bad about any activity that she pursued that made her feel this sense of worth. He belittled her and made her feel guilty for doing anything from which he did not feel the direct benefits. It is not the same as physical abuse, certainly, but that kind of psychological manipulation erodes the fabric of a loving relationship.

It’s normal for your partner to have some outside interests that you don’t share. In a healthy relationship, those interests aren’t seen as a threat. They’re just another aspect to the person you love. They can be an opportunity to bond over something new. They can be a source of pride in your partner. There is so much joy to be had sharing in the triumphs of someone you love.

We must always be building our partners up, not tearing them down, and the surest way to build him up is to make sure that the person you love most feels valuable and useful in the world.

To my kids, these ebbs and flows of friendship are no big deal. They don’t miss Monica or lament the loss of Leonard. They roll with it. They embrace the new friends, and throw themselves into an exciting social stew of blending flavors and aromas.

But, for me, it’s not so easy. I do miss Monica. I do lament the loss of Leonard. I get attached to these kids. We have a lot of kids over for playdates. I enjoy cooking for them, getting to know about them and their families, doing their hair, watching them crack up at the silly parts of movies.

Even more than these forgotten friends, I miss the parents with whom I used to interact. I genuinely like almost all the parents that I meet through my kids’ friends. We have common struggles, and we often share funny, sad, or frustrating anecdotes about being the parent of a (insert age here) year-old. We used to cross paths, picking our kids up from each other’s houses, but now we don’t, and there is this void where those friends used to be, because, let’s face it: we don’t have time to just hang out with those people anymore. So much of our time is devoted to taking our kids to soccer or baseball, or this new friend’s house that we barely have time to see our own friends, the ones we’ve made not through our kids, but in pursuit of our own goals and interests.

Recently my daughter reconnected with a friend who had been out of the rotation, and I have been so happy to see this lovely girl and her charming parents again. For the longest time, I would say things like, “What about Nancy? Would you want to have Nancy over?” But these queries were only met with an eye roll. So much time had passed, though, that I stopped asking about Nancy, and began to wonder if perhaps Natalie and Rachel would want to come over. Today I had a breakthrough, though. I have figured out my daughter’s philosophy: if Mom wants me to be friends with Nancy, I absolutely do not have any interest in that course of action, but if I choose to be friends with Nancy on my own, so be it.

So, I must endeavor not to ask about all these lovely children that have drifted out of our lives. I must keep my big mouth shut, and pretend I never cared at all about Natalie, Rachel, Monica and Leonard, much less their parents. And if I get really lucky, they, like Nancy, will suddenly be forgiven for whatever transgressions they have committed, and I will be welcoming them back to the Biek abode with open arms. And I will engage in lively conversations with their parents when they get picked up.

However, I would like to make the argument that sleepovers are such a valuable component of growing up. Honestly, sleepovers were my absolute favorite part of childhood. All of my fondest memories are of times I slept at a friend’s house — staying up late telling our deepest, darkest secrets, watching horror movies, screaming bloody murder or watching Jane Eyre, bawling our eyes out. Then there were slumber parties where we played the Ouija board, ate pizza until our bellies hurt, made T-shirts, played My Little Pony, acted out Superman after seeing it in the theater.

Sleepovers forced me to take culinary chances. When you go to someone else’s house, you can’t be such a ridiculously picky eater. In addition to trying new foods, you have to be more accommodating in other ways. Your friend’s family eats dinner at 7:00 and goes to bed at 9:00. It’s not what you’re used to, but you go with the flow. Your friend’s family walks everywhere, so you walk too, even though your dogs may be barking. Your friend’s mom listens to classical music in the car, which you don’t care for, but you deal with it.

You get to see how other families operate. You find out that your friend’s brother is way meaner than your brother, or you find out what it’s like to have an annoying little brother instead of a big brother who teases you. You see that some moms and dads really love each other a lot, or that maybe it’s better when your parents get divorced because some parents fight all the time. Seeing other families made me appreciate my family so much. Sometimes it is so beneficial to be away from your routine for a night, just for the absolute comfort of coming back and doing things the way you are used to doing them.

There is this absurd notion that our children are in constant danger when, in reality, crimes against children are at an all time low. Parents in this day and age want to protect their children from every little thing, so much so that they do things like refuse to say the word death in front of their kids. That always blows my mind. I always wonder how on earth those kids would cope if their parents died. Imagine you’ve never even heard of death as a concept, and suddenly someone really important to you dies. Kids have to understand that bad shit happens. Because it does. I’m not saying we should watch Schindler’s List or Terms of Endearment with our toddlers, or watch the evening news with elementary school kids, but maybe we could just be honest and real with kids, trust them to grasp difficult ideas and concepts. In that same spirit, let’s allow them to have experiences. Let’s let them try to do things on their own without our constant guidance. Let’s allow them to spend the night at a friend’s house and possibly make stupid choices. When my son stayed up all night at his friend’s house, he was really tired the next day, and he learned a valuable lesson: staying up all night makes tomorrow a real bitch.

Yes, there is the possibility that your child could be sexually abused at a sleepover, but there is also the possibility that you will be hit by a truck crossing the street, or that a plane will fly into your house — I actually saw that happen. So you’re in danger if you leave the house, or if you stay in it. My point is this: we cannot protect our children from every little thing that might ever go wrong in life, nor should we want to. Should you let your kid sleepover at a kid’s house when you have never met their parents and you don’t know anything about them? Probably not, but most people are decent human beings, and they will try to keep your child safe in their home. The reality is that none of us are safe all the time. Bad things are going to happen to all of us at some point. Is it really fair to shelter kids from everything in the interest of delaying the inevitable sorrows and challenges of life? How will they learn coping mechanisms if they never experience anything outside of their comfort zone?

Sleepovers are about bonding with your friends, sharing all the most sacred things that human beings experience — family, laughter, meals, chaos, disorder, peace, harmony, sleep, and fun. Most of all sleepovers are about fun. I would never want my kids to miss out on that.

I had a best friend whom I adored. He was hilarious, kind, fun, smart, and handsome — the whole package. We spent all our time together. We ate together. We took the bus downtown and went to Powell’s bookstore and the museum. We went for walks. We laid on the floor and listened to music. We took naps together. He slept in my bed. But, I was not sure if he liked me. How do you know when a boy likes you? I certainly had no frame of reference, and I was definitely not going to make the first move and make a fool of myself if he just wanted to stay friends.

So, there we were. In the friend zone. Firmly established. Until March 4 1995. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, or maybe it wasn’t. It could have been raining. It was Portland. But, I do remember feeling fantastic that day. Everything felt alive, bursting with energy and excitement. Spring was in the air. My best friend and I had brunch in the cafeteria and decided to take the bus downtown. We went to the Oregon History Museum. We laughed and joked. My best friend bought the “courting candle.” It was a candle that you could rotate upwards to make the candle last longer or rotate down to hasten the end of its illumination. Apparently, a young lady’s father would move the candle up or down depending on whether or not he approved of the suitor.

We went back to my dorm room and we lit the candle. I made sure it was rotated all the way up. The candle was tall, and it would burn for a long time. We were lying in my bed, talking, laughing, joking, and I tickled my best friend. He is very ticklish, and when tickled, he has the best laugh you have ever heard. It is very high pitched and somewhat girlish, and to hear this sound come out of a large, hairy beast is an unparalleled delight. He tried to defend himself, to tickle me back, but I am not ticklish. He didn’t have to know that, though, so I played along. I let him pin me. And in that moment, as I lay on my narrow dorm bed with the plaid comforter and the Navajo flannel sheets as his angelic bearded face stared down at me, I sent him a message. I thought to myself, “Please. Please let him kiss me. Right now. This moment. If it doesn’t happen right now, it will never happen. And if it never happens, I might start crying, and I will definitely not be able to continue this tickle fight.” I opened my eyes as wide as I could, and I looked at this boy who had showed me how it feels to want to spend every moment with one incredible person that you just can’t get enough of, and I looked right into his soul. I licked my lips, and I waited.

It worked. Being kissed by somebody that wants to kiss you because he loves you is the best self confidence booster in the world. Being loved heals many wounds, and kissing is one of the best ways to show love. It is so obvious, so tangible, so real. It makes you tingle. And twenty-one years later, it still works.

Here’s the problem I have with the Stranger Danger Lady: usually, it is not a stranger who puts a child in danger. The fact is, kids are more likely to be abused by someone they know — a neighbor, a coach, a priest, an older kid, or even a family member. The terrifying truth is that, our children can never be safe. Unless you plan to stay right next to your children 24 hours a day, you can never know that no one will hurt them. As a parent, that knowledge is really difficult to stomach, because that is my job, right? To keep my children safe. Sadly, in order to let them grow, you have to relinquish control. They are going to go to friends’ houses. They are going to join clubs and teams, and go to meetings and practices, and I cannot stay with them every moment. I just have to believe that most people are decent human beings, and hope and pray that my children will be safe, but I can never be certain.

Here’s what I can do. I can talk to my kids. I can make sure that they know that any person who ever tells them they have to keep a secret is bad news. They should never have secrets that make them feel bad. Anyone who touches them, or talks to them in a way that makes them uncomfortable is bad news. Anyone who makes them do something that makes them feel ashamed or sad or scared is bad news. Anyone who takes their clothes off in front of them, or tells them to take their clothes off is bad news. Most importantly, anytime my kids meet someone who is bad news, they need to know they can tell me about it right away. Communication is the most important gift I can give my children. I wish I had known all this when I was a kid. Instead, I had McGruff the crime dog telling me not to talk to strangers.