We took the kids out for dinner. Mexican.
Prompted by images on the tv in the bar, they started asking questions about September 11th.
Maybe because they’re 13 and almost 11, or maybe because I’d had a margarita, or maybe because I can’t believe it’s been ten years, 10 years, but this year, for the first time, I started talking and answering honestly. And it was good. And hard. And intense. And real.
And I’m pretty sure the greatest challenge in parenting is trying to offer answers and advice, when you’re still looking for them yourself.
But I guess that’s what parenting is all about.
This quote from Michael Levine sort of says it all.
“Having children makes one no more a parent than having a piano makes you a pianist.”
What do you think? How do you talk to kids about the hard stuff?