I am currently reading the most informative and horrifying book imaginable. It portrays scenes that leave me chilled to the bone and questioning myself and those around me. Conversely, it is significantly empowering because it has revealed a myriad of information that I need to file away for the future and some I need to utilize right this second!

The book? “Protecting the Gift: Keeping Children and Teenagers Safe (And Parents Sane)” by renowned security expert Gavin de Becker. Doesn’t sound all that terrifying does it? With each vignette exposing the vulnerability of a mother with walking in a parking lot her daughter or the manipulation of a young child, I wonder how I can possibly keep my Pie safe from unnecessary harm and fear. De Becker discusses the meaning of fear throughout these pages, explaining the separation of "manufactured fear," from "natural" fear. I am not a worry wart, but I do have valid concerns about my daughter. However, for those who worry excessively he comments, "everybody dies, but not everybody lives." He flatly states that worry increases risk and "to protect your child you must believe in yourself."

Because I am reading this book, I am now hyperaware of the existence and possibility of dangerous situations and overly analytical of things I hear and see. For instance, last night the Pie asked me to tickle her “inside” and pointed between her legs. My stomach did flip-flops, my eyes did that AAOOOGAH thing from cartoons and my heart raced. I asked her immediately what she meant and who tickled her inside, but she just said, “You, mama!” Perplexed, I pushed for more information, but she shut down and began playing with other toys. Her Mimi witnessed the exchange and was equally disturbed. I mentally reviewed where she had been over the last few weeks, when she had been without me, who she had been exposed to and nothing made sense. There was no way she could have been compromised! And I was not in denial; the pieces of the puzzle simply did not fit.

Later, after bath and as we settled into her bed for story time, I asked her again about being tickled inside. Through a series of thinly veiled questions and some role play, I learned: “You Mama! When you do belly button tickles it feels funny in there.”

However ideally it would have been, it did NOT occur like this:


ME: So, tell me, Pie…how is it you came by the knowledge of being tickled inside and who, if I may be so bold to inquire, has ever done that to you?
PIE: Oh, silly mother…it was no one other than yourself! You see, when you apply light pressure to my umbilical scar, a tingling sensation results inside my abdomen!

In actuality, it was mostly like this:

ME: Where did you learn about tickling inside?
PIE: What? (accompanied by furrowed brow)
ME: Who showed you about tickling inside?
PIE: What? (accompanied by wrinkled nose and scowl)
ME: Did someone tickle you inside?
PIE: Yes.
ME: Who was it?
PIE: What? (accompanied by cocked head and widened eyes)


My daughter loves to be tickled and practically demands that I do it. Sometimes I give her the Tickle Spider, who devours her belly; other times, it’s the Tickle Worm, who goes after those sweet little folds in her neck; others she gets a Horsey Corn on her thigh or a Something Funny Under There for her armpits. She squeals and laughs and orders more. Those are such precious sounds.
Gavin de Becker says, "Throughout history half of all children failed to reach adult-hood ... childhood is safe only when adults make it so." I say, it's only when the right adults make it so...