Sense cannot be made, it is something that must be sensed.

As a parent I struggle.  I struggle with how to discipline by little boy when he doesn't listen. I struggle with getting him to eat something other than a hotdog. I struggle with not becoming my parents. One of my struggles is with consciously trying not to be an overbearing, hovering, over-protective parent. I want my child to learn at a young age to be independent. I want him to learn how the world works and to enjoy himself.

I usually think about this when I see the 5 or 6 cars parked at the middle school bus stop in my cul-de-sacish suburban neighborhood. I think about the fact that I stood at the bus stop without adult supervision starting the 2nd day of kindergarten and how ridiculous it is that the mini-van brigade is hovering over their children for the 10-15 minute wait for the bus to come.  But today I am struggling with this because a man recently entered an elementary school and popped off 100 rounds mostly in a kindergarten classroom killing 26, 20 of which were children before turning the gun on himself.

Usually I cannot relate to those parents, hovering over their children like sheep herders. Usually I dismiss their actions as over-protective parents who want to shield their children from everything. But today as I type this all I want to do is hold my son close and tell him that nothing will ever hurt him. I want nothing more than to shield him from everything, lock him in a room and snuggle and read books all day. But I know I can't.

I cannot imagine what the parents of those 20 dead children in Connecticut are going through. I can't imagine what I would feel if I got that phone call that my little boy was killed at school today. I'm sure this will be one more scenario that whizzes through my head when my mind wanders. Along with I hope he doesn't choke on that cereal he's eating while I'm taking a shower, or he knows to stop at the light at the end of the sidewalk, right?

Today I will struggle just a bit more with not being that over protective parent. Today I will struggle a little bit more letting him ride his bike ahead of me while I run, letting him play in the front yard by himself, and generally learning to be independent. My condolences go out to the parents of those children in Connecticut.