love and trust

A week ago Devin was goofing around at the table during lunch and he flipped over his chair. Luckily he was fine, but he cracked the one of the spindles on the back of the chair. Andy and I were more concerned that he was okay, and neither of us yelled at him. We didn't need to. Devin was so devastated that he broke the chair that he cried multiple times during lunch.
Later that day I was getting ready to go out when Devin came into the bathroom and asked me if I still loved him even though he broke the chair. I was a little surprised at his question, and knew I needed to give it my full attention. I turned off my hair dryer and got down on my knees to look him in the eyes when I said, "Oh Devin, I will always love you. There is nothing that you can do that will ever make me stop loving you. Even when you make me angry I still love you."

And then I took it a step further. I thought about something that I learned in a training session about preventing child abuse; abusers will tell kids that they shouldn't tell their parents about what transpired because their parents won't love them anymore. So I told Devin that no matter what anyone said or did I would always love him. In a way I'm a little mad that this sweet moment with my little boy questioning how love works was, for me, tainted by something ugly, but I felt like I had to use this opportunity while I had his attention. Child sexual abuse is something that terrifies me. To volunteer in the Charlotte area Catholic schools or the church you need to take a training course on child sexual abuse and part of the course includes interviews with two sexual predators who talk about grooming their target victims (and the victims families) to build trust. It's horrifying. While we certainly learned some of the warning signs of abuse and some ideas about preventing it, the best defense that they articulated was communication; when a child thought something strange or inappropriate was happening and told their parents about it before it got to the point of abuse. So here I am, with my five and a half year old boy, trying to build his confidence that he can truly tell me anything.

Yesterday Devin and I were at the baptism of our friends daughter (while Andy was managing nap time for Alex and Isabel) and Devin kept wiggling and talking in church. After the hand signals failed me, I gave him my best 'You're Gonna Get It Mister' glare and motioned again for him to be quiet. When there was a break in the service Devin leaned over and whispered to me, "Mom, you'll always love me, right?" I chuckled, kissed him on the head and whispered, "Yes, Devin. I will always love you."