I wrote this yesterday, before I moved Still Here to Beehiiv. It feels right to make it the first post here too, because this is the kind of honesty I want to bring with me into this new space.
Today I took my kids to school. One went by bike, and the other came with me in the car. During the short eight‑minute drive, my youngest suddenly asked:
“Mama, in your time, did people fight other countries and kill kids?”
I don’t let my children watch the news at home. They don’t use tablets either. I prefer they play outside, be just kids, and stay in their world a little longer. They only play old games or Nintendo without the internet, since they are still so young, and I want to protect their childhood.
But yesterday he had a playdate at a friend’s house, and the television was on. The news was talking about the war. He heard enough to carry that fear with him.
In that moment, I didn’t know what to say. How could I? Even we, as adults, don’t have real answers. Why are children always the ones who suffer when adults decide to play dangerous games? How do you explain that to a six‑year‑old on the way to school?
I knew a five‑minute conversation in the car wouldn’t touch the fear behind his question. So I told him:
“You’re in a safe place now, and you’re going to have a wonderful day with your friends. Later, when we get back home, we can relax together, and I’ll be here to help answer any questions you might have.”
Honestly, I still don’t have all the answers. I’m gearing up to respond, not as a psychologist or with flawless words, but as a mother navigating a real world where information reaches our children even when we try to shield them from it.
The headlines are frightening. They no longer come from a human perspective; instead, they are crafted by algorithms designed to stir fear for profit. Being present, showing empathy, and offering comfort can be a challenge in this peculiar new society.
But I’m doing my best. And I hope that’s enough.
Closing Note
Thank you for being here with me, in the quiet moments, in the questions that shake us, and in the small truths we carry as parents and as people.
This space is new, but the heart behind it isn’t. I’m grateful you chose to read, to pause, and to share a little of your day with mine.
We’re figuring this out together, one honest moment at a time.
Still here, still writing, still learning how to answer the questions that matter.