Yesterday I spent the day with my three little cousins aka “My Little Monsters”. These sweet boys are the light of my life. I know that when they tell me they love me its real.
My silly little boys have no idea what kind of evil there is in the world. They do not have to worry about predators. The only thing that they worry about is missing an episode of SpongeBob Square pants. They are little, precious and innocent.
Last night as I was putting them to bed, they asked me to stay in their room until they went to sleep. I did because I like them to feel safe. As I watched them drift off into dreamland, I started feeling sad. I just looked at those precious little babies as they slept peacefully and tears started to fall from my eyes. When I look at those boys, I see that they are so helpless and small.
I realized how safe they are and how unsafe I actually was during my childhood.
My littlest cousin is turning three in a few weeks, and it has been bothering me because one of my parts is three. It is that I just picture a three year old as something much bigger and stronger than he is. When I look at him, I still see a baby. He still likes to be held, rocked and comforted.
When I see my littlest insiders, I do not see them as children, because they are not children. I never got to do childlike things. I had to do grown up things from a very young age. Baby-like things never existed. I never had the chance to be a child. In addition, I do not get a second chance to redo childhood. It is over, done, history.
However, when I look at my little cousins, I see three sweet innocent boys who are safe from abuse. They just look up to me with their big brown eyes and I just want to hold them and keep them safe forever.
I always think and wonder how anyone could hurt a child…