Life Lessons

I remember my mother telling me, as I was sniffing my little baby's head, that letting your child go is one of the hardest things a mother will ever do.  Watching them go off to school, starting a life that includes more time with others than with you, and knowing that there will be heartache and hard life lessons.  Yet, there is nothing that you can do to protect that child from those hurts, because she needs to find her own way. 

My mother often said things like this during the last couple years of her life.  She knew that she didn't have much time to be with us, and she tried to squeeze in enough mothering advice to last a lifetime.  I have a good memory, and all those comments have been filed away.  They always seem to come back to me when I need them.

It's so much harder to get a glimpse into day to day school life now.  School starts at 9:00 and ends at 3:00.  Aftercare lasts until 6:00, and I usually only see the aftercare ladies when I pick DD up at the end of the day (DH does the drop off).  There are no daily reports to fill in the blanks.  Good, bad, or indifferent, we just don't know what's going on, though presumably, if there were issues, we would know about them.  But, since I know that DD has a soft spot for snuggling (so do I!), I've made a deal with her -- I will snuggle with her at bedtime as long as she talks about school.  No matter how mundane, I'm all ears. 

I've learned that there is a girl, "I", who sounds like a little snot, based on what DD has been telling me in the evenings.  DD pointed out a girl to me when we were out on an errand and said, "look mommy, that girl looks just like "I"!"  Based on that, I can tell you that she's pretty, with long blond hair and blue eyes.  This is probably unfair, but that is precisely how I imagined her.  Spoiled, pretty, and blond.

So far, based on the scraps that I've heard, "I" told DD that DD would not be invited to her birthday party, because she just wasn't on the list (the tone, imitated by DD, was snarky).  Understand that DD came from a world where generally speaking, all of the kids in the class were invited to parties, or at least all of the same gender in the class were invited to parties (depending on the theme).  It wasn't a school rule; it was just what we did.  And, had the little boy who'd caused so much trouble not been moved to another classroom before DD's birthday party, we would have invited him and crossed our fingers that he wouldn't act out at the party.

DD found "I's" comments puzzling.  I asked her why she thought "I" had said that, and she said that "I" also told everyone that she was only inviting the four year olds to her party ("I" will be 5 on her birthday).  DD thought that maybe if she hadn't told "I" that she was already 5, she would have surely been invited to the party.  I probed a bit and asked if she really thought that was the reason.  DD wasn't sure.  I asked if she and "I" were friends, and she said that they weren't -- "but mommy, if she just got to know me, I'm sure she would like me."  Pure, sweet, simple heart.  I told her that maybe that was true, but she needed to understand that not everyone in the world will like her, and that was OK, just as it was OK for DD not to like everyone she meets.  DD seemed convinced that "I" would like her eventually.

Since then, a couple things have happened, though there may be more things that I don't know about.  DD and another girl were talking to each other, and "I" said that she was going to tell the teacher that they were being mean to her (DD denied this and said that they weren't even talking to "I").  "I" did as promised, and the teacher came over and told DD and her friend that they shouldn't be mean to others.  Undaunted, and finding herself in line behind "I" on another day, DD complimented her hair ribbon.  To her credit, "I" said thanks. 

This evening, DD told me that when she sat down next to "I" today, "I" deliberately got up and sat on the other side of the person she had been sitting next to before DD sat down.  It was clearly an insult. I gently suggested, again, that perhaps DD might want to ignore "I," since she seemed like a rude little girl who clearly did not want to be DD's friend.  DD responded by telling me she was tired and didn't want to talk anymore.  And my mother's words echoed back to me, counseling me to let go, let go, let go.

But then, to my surprise, DD rolled back over and said, "mommy, don't worry.  I don't let her hurt my heart."

Ah, smart cookie.  Very smart.

Comments

[kris (lower case)]

ok, i am just going to say it...i want to bitch slap 'i'...really hard.

[moo]

oh it hurts MY heart - these are my dreaded moments. You are a good good momma and she is a wise girl. Wish us the same in 3 yrs.

[Kami]

What a wise little girl.