It can't be...not my kids

Who knew how life would change. When I first built this blog I intended to write about the daily or weekly dealings of a mom and her three kids. I thought my ramblings needed a home, I thought many of us go through similar processes and we do it in isolation from one another. Maybe if I blogged it would help me feel more connected and it would reach to others dealing with the wonderfully mundane activities of motherhood.
That day I dealt with morning routines. Making lunches, signing planners, checking teeth, shoes, and defusing all the minor squabbles that occur when three children live in a home together. Those three children who wanted to stay home instead of go to school. Produced the usual avoidance techniques and heal- dragging statements:
"I can't find my socks.....-they're in the top drawer-"
"Mom, where is the toothpaste cap?....-on the counter where you put it-"
"I need you to sign this permission slip....-put it on the island- with a pen-"
"Tell her to get out of here....-get out of your brother's way-"

Then a trembling boy of seven, ran frantically into the master bedroom and threw his arms around me. His beautiful sparkling eyes welled with tears his tender quaking voice could barely stammer, "Mom, I don't want him to ever touch me like that again. I don't like it when he rubs his private....."

My internal struggle to comprehend those words was enormous.
My world ceased to exist as previously known.

Life changed that day. Drastically. The blog was a distant memory. It was a time when I probably needed blogging more, need the connection to others more. But I didn't know where to turn, or how to cope so I sunk inside a dark and lonely place.  That was the day I learned that one of my own dear, sweet, tender children had been horribly and inexplicably violated.  His innocence, our family's innocence shattered.

Matching socks and clean dishes, signed papers and 5 servings of vegetables a day.  Who could have time for such insignificant things?  My dear little boy- his green eyes welling up in tears to the size of swollen plums - tears staining the freckled cheeks- my boy.  But how?