Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids

Reason #86: The Weather Outside is Frightful
May 11, 2009, 12:24 pm
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Summer is coming. The spring months are here, and that brings with it beautiful sunny days. I would really love to take my sweet beautiful son outside to play. I don’t really go outside a lot. I want to, but I generally talk myself out of it within a few seconds.

When I am home with my son, who is less than 2 years old, I think to myself “I should take him outside to play.” I think about how we could go out there and he would inspect the grass, and I would watch him. But what if someone is able to sneak into my house while my back is turned? Or if someone steals me or my kid, or rapes me or my kid? No, no, safer to stay inside.

See how quick that worked? When the huz is home, we go outside with the baby together, and truly, it’s some of my happiest times. When I am alone with the baby though, my fear gets the best of me. When people try to talk sense into me, like by saying that my fear is irrational or not based in reality, they are a little bit right. I mean, statistically speaking, there’s more of a chance of nothing happening than something happening. But what the fuck do statistics mean when three separate people fucked with me when I was a child? What do statistics mean when you’ve been on intimate terms with evil?

Not being able to take my son outside to play on beautiful days. That would be reason #86 why you shouldn’t fuck kids.

Reason #79: The summer blanket
April 20, 2009, 12:48 pm
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Last night, the huz and I made the switch to the summer blanket, which is this really thin flimsy thing that is probably meant to keep a body cool during the heat of the summer months. We’d both been sweating the last few nights, so we felt it was an appropriate time.

This morning the huz got up early to go work out, so I was in bed alone with the summer blanket, and I instantly felt unsafe under its relative non-weight. It was actually weird all night long with it, but it got acutely difficult after he left the bed and I was left alone under it.

This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids. We can’t sleep unless we are hidden in a mess of heavy blankets because of what you did to us. We hide at night under our covers, the way you read about children doing when they are scared. We were those kids. Now we are those adults, and we still need all those blankets even though we also know somewhere in our heads that no amount of blankets ever really kept us safe. Still though, we need to sleep at night, so we imagine that heavy blankets keep us safe.

Surviving childhood sexual abuse absolutely seeps into every facet of living, from waking through sleeping. I have always thought so privately, but now that I am counting every reason out in my blog, it’s really hitting home. I bet my husband was happy about the summer blanket. I bet the fact that it weighs next to nothing actually felt good for him. For me it was yet another thing to get through.

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