Tuesday, Sam came home from school with a tooth pushed further back in his head than when he left that morning. Evidently he got in a fight with a fence, and the fence won.
Wednesday, Sam came home from school with a black eye. We’re not exactly sure how that one happened – he doesn’t remember. Whatever it was must have impacted his brain.
I, of course, was out of town on business all week and couldn’t take care of him, couldn’t give him a hug. He was being very well cared for by his father, obviously, but it still hurt my heart that I wasn’t there for him.
And then I read this – an account of nine recent teenage suicides that were a result of cyber-bullying.
Sam’s injuries last week were easy to treat. They were nothing a few popsicles and a super hero action figure couldn’t fix.
His wounds were visible.
That article? Scared me to death. It made me worry about all the pain my kids will go through in the future (and let’s be real – they will) that we can’t see, that we might not even know about. That we can’t fix.
We’re going to have to stay at the top of our game, people. All of us.
How do we do that, though? How do we make sure to stay attuned to our kids? To ensure we not only listen but we hear what they’re saying? How to we keep them coming to us when they’re hurt?
What do we do when popcicles and hugs aren’t enough?
