I sent my kids to school with some nervousness this morning.

For Jonah, I worry about the stories that he'll hear from his classmates today. I told him very little, and he asked almost no questions. I told him that a terrible thing happened in CT on Friday and some innocent children died, but that this was a one in a million event and it would never happen to him. I told him he was surrounded by people who love him. But I didn't tell him the details. I didn't tell him about the bodies of babies or the brutality of their killing. I'll have to do some damage control, I'm sure, when he gets home. 

I'm worried that he'll pick up the stress from the teachers and the strangeness of seeing armed policemen patrolling his halls. 

For Ian, I worry that ignorant people will look at him and his classmates with suspicion. Those autistic kids. There was some damn stupid things put on Twitter this weekend, and I am deeply fearful of an autism backlash. 

Despite these worries, I let my kids go. I can't wrap them up in plastic and keep them in a fortress. They have to navigate the world with all its beauty and its evil.