Stranger Danger

 My kids are the most social people you’ll ever meet and that is so great about them.  Anywhere we go we talk to everyone we pass and tell them everything that comes to mind.  Everything.  Like earlier in the week when Briana randomly told someone that she knew her own “call number” and, then, proceeded to rattle off our home phone number.  Luckily, while the person was a stranger, they were walking down the hallway of school with us and their own, slightly older, child.  Not that crazy people don’t go to our school, of course.  Abby likes to spell out her name and recite her birthday for everyone, very helpful and applauded at the Children’s ER when she busted her tooth this week (she’s fine) and could verify her own armband info, but a little bit more disconcerting when she gives her full name and personal info to a random dad at gymnastics class.  The most worrisome event happened earlier this week when we had a contractor at the house working on our basement and the girls were all over him like he was their grandpa or something.  They offered him bites of their snacks; they showed him ballet routines and forward rolls.  The whole time I try to send them back upstairs and stop all of the talking (as much to get through my own instructions to the contractor as for other reasons).  When he left, Abby asked if she could ride with him and both girls waved cheerfully and asked him to come back and play with them again.  To be clear, the guy was perfectly nice.  He talked about his own kids and grandkids and smiled at the kids and all, but we just didn’t know anything about him other than our friend recommended his work for what we needed.  I started to worry.

I am hesitant to start the stranger danger talk with the girls at 4- and 2-years old because I don’t want them to start being afraid of people.  I tossed this around in my head for a couple of days and somehow ended up talking to one of my friends with similarly aged kids about it.  She suggested a Berenstein Bears book, whose title I’ve forgotten, and said that she liked it because it emphasized that most people were good, but a few were bad apples.  Eventually I decided that what I should do was actually to talk to my kids and most importantly listen.

The kids made us dinner.  As a quick side story, Briana has been asking to make pizza like we did on Italy day for over a week now.  I decided to make a game out of it and I got whole wheat pitas for pizza dough and then told the kids that the winner is the kid who makes the most colorful pizza AND eats it.  As soon as I said that both girls who were clamoring for cheese pizza changed their minds and rushed to the refrigerator.  Tomatoes, broccoli (I actually had to chop extra broccoli because all that I had prepared was used up and Abby needed more), olives, carrots, bacon, and other types of cheeses joined their pizzas.  Both kids wound up eating a ton more veggies than cheese pizza would have offered and their creations both actually tasted good.

As the three of us ate their delicious dinner (Daddy had to work late), I told them that since they were growing up so much that they could cook the dinner I wanted to hear what they thought about stuff.  I broke the ice talking about favorite colors and animals and transitioned to favorite and least favorite things at school (Briana’s least favorite thing was snack time because “you have to stop working when your tummy gets hungry and you don’t get any kind of work done” J ).  Then we talked about best friends.  I asked the kids, “Do you guys know what a stranger is?”

“Someone you don’t know.”  Briana told me matter-of-factly.  “We give them our toys if they don’t have any.”  That’s an interesting variation of what I told them around Christmas time.

“What do we do when we meet a stranger?”

“Say, ‘Be Our Guest’.  That’s beautyous.”  Says Abby.  “Thank them for protecting us.” Says Briana.  “What?!”  “If they’re like a soldier or policeman.”  Briana explains.  “Or a fireman.”  Adds Abby who is fixated on firemen since one came to school.

My stomach turned.  Honestly.  I just asked my kids what they think they should do when they meet a stranger and my baby said basically to welcome them into our house and my older daughter said, walk right up to them and talk, assuming that, not only are they good, that they are there to help us.

“What else do we know about strangers?”

“No idea.” Says Abby.  “Well, run if they make us feel scared.” Says Briana.

Thank goodness!

Then Abby adds, “If you run away that will hurt their feelings, Briana.”

I tell the girls, “If a stranger ever makes you feel even a little bit scared, it won’t hurt their feelings if you run to an adult you know.  If the grown-up is Mommy or Daddy or a teacher and they tell you who the stranger is, you can talk to them afterwards.”

“And say sorry that you runned away.” Said Abby.

“Yes, Abby.  If a stranger makes you feel scared, run to a grown-up that you know.  Then if the stranger is ok, you can say sorry afterwards.”

“How do you know if the stranger makes you feel scared?” I ask.

“Bad strangers make you feel scared.  Bad strangers do not wear dresses, Abby, so that’s how you know.  Or skirts.”  Briana says incorrectly, but authoritatively.

“Nope.”  I employ the tactic suggested by my friend.  “It doesn’t matter what they are wearing or how they look.  Most strangers are really nice people, but a couple can be bad.  The thing is, you need to be careful and trust how you feel, just in case, because there’s no good way to tell if someone is good or bad right away.”

“What if they say, ‘You’re in my heart’?” Asks Briana.  “Then you know they’re good.”  It’s a lyric from a Laurie Berkner Band song that she loves.

“A stranger should never tell you that you are in their heart.  If they do, go find a grown-up that you know right away.”

They nod, thinking seriously.

“But sometimes they drive you to ballet or gymnastics.  Just for fun, Mommy.”  Abby says.

Ahh!  At this point, I’m part horrified and part thankful that I’ve taken the time to ask them what they think and listen.  I try to stay light and smiley so they don’t get freaked out.

I say in a singsongy voice, “The most important thing to know about stranger is…” I pause for dramatic effect.  “Never never never never never never never get in the car with a stranger.  Say it with me.”  We all repeat the sentence, complete with 7 nevers.  Then we say it again.  “What do you think, gang?” 

“I think if it’s a policeman it’s ok.” Briana says.

“If it’s an emergency, and the policeman is in his car, it’s probably ok.  But ask a grownup that you know first.  If the policeman does not have a policecar then never never never never never never never…get in the car with a stranger.”  The kids finish the sentence for me.

We role play, which mostly involves running from Stranger Mommy, to diffuse any tension.  Then I corral them back to finish their dinner.

“Mommy, ask us another stranger question.  I know about this stuff, you know.” Briana says.

“Well, I have another question then.  Who can you tell your call number to?”  Before we went to Disney last year we talked about what to do when we got separated.  When we got back home we had a similar discussion and recently I expanded on those instructions by adding our address and phone number to the kids’ repertoires with instructions to only tell a trusted grownup those things if you needed Mommy.

“Everybody!” Briana shouts. Clearly this is what she thinks and the whole trusted grown-up thing didn’t stick.

“Nope.”

“Friends!” tries Abby, to which Briana laughs “Our friends can’t make phone calls, Abby.  Most of your friends can barely talk right, so how could they call you.”

I tell them, “Friends are ok when you get older and they can make phone calls.  Teachers, Grownups you know (and I listed a few examples), and policepeople if it’s an emergency.”

“But what if we don’t know anybody and we can’t find you?” Bree asks, concerned.

“Look for a phone, or ask someone where a phone is, and call me yourself.” 

Bree laughs.  “I can’t use a real phone.” 

“Why not?  You know your numbers and you know your call number.  Let’s practice.”

Happily, both kids remember our full phone number.  I explain the first three digits and how if they are in town they won’t need to dial them.  I teach them how to turn on and operate the phone part of my iPhone.  After one try, they are both experts and can unlock the iPhone and dial the home phone, squealing with delight when it rings.  Then I show them how to work the home phone, explaining that it won’t dial because it can’t call itself, just so that they would have experience with different types of phones. 

“What about our address? What if a stranger asks what your address is?“

Abby nails it.  “Say, so sorry.  I can’t tell you, but ask my Mommy.”  I applaud and tell her that is the perfect, polite answer.

For good measure I ask about getting in cars and they both start shaking their heads and saying never never never….  I also add that if they come to our house, never open the door.  Only let Mommy or Daddy or the babysitter open the door.

I end our deep dinner discussion by telling the kids that most strangers are nice.  I tell them to follow Mommy’s lead and that if I am talking to the stranger, they probably can too.

Right now my kids don’t really go anywhere other than school without one parent with them at all times, but it never hurts to be prepared.

While Abby clears her dishes, Briana tells me a secret in my ear, her new thing, “Mommy, I like when you ask us hard questions because we can answer them.  Let’s do stranger questions again another day.”

“Ok” I promise her.

Talk to your kids!!  You’ll never know that they thought it was ok to welcome a stranger into your house or tell the checkout guy at the grocery store their phone number unless you ask them.  I feel like I learned as much as they did today and I hope that it opens the door for them to talk to me about strangers in the future as they have questions or new scenarios to navigate.  It’s confusing territory for them and us as parents, so talking is key.

Stay safe.

<3 Pedigreed Housewife