Mean Girls

Nothing will take you screaming back to your own childhood like having a little girl.  I know girls can be mean.  I experienced it.  I remember in first grade, I had two best friends, and invariably two of the three of us would pair up and the third would get left out.  I distinctly remember that it was a big deal when it was your turn to be cafeteria helper and the designated cafeteria helper got to pick one friend to help her.  I never got picked to be the other person.  And, yet, when it was my turn to be the designated helper, if I didn't pick this one friend, she wouldn't speak to me for days.  That was thirty-three years ago and I still remember it well.

The other most significant time I remember was in third grade- I had moved to a different town in second grade and by third grade was really making friends.  One day on the playground, I was sitting under a tree, drawing in the dirt, with a friend and two other girls came skipping by and started calling me a baby.  I had no idea why they were picking on me, but it upset me and I began to cry, which just resulted in them calling me a baby more.  Fast forward a few weeks and another friend of mine was having a slumber party and invited me to come.  I was looking forward to it until I found out that the two girls that were picking on me would be in attendance.  At first I wasn't going to go, but then my best friend- the one that had been sitting under the tree with me- was going and she assured me that we could hang out and ignore the other two if they got nasty.

The night of the party arrived and I showed up with sleeping bag in hand.  I found out upon arrival that my best friend had fallen ill and would not be there.  My mother had already left, so I went in and tried to have fun.  Everything was going fine- the other two girls were avoiding me altogether- until the parents went to bed.  At that point, the two mean girls got on the couch and invited everyone up with them, except for me.  When I tried to sit on the couch, they scooted over and told me there was no room.  So- I sat there in the middle of the living room floor, while they played a fun little game.  One person on the couch would come up with a fact about me and whisper it down the line until the last person said it out loud and everyone laughed hysterically.  It was things like, "Jennifer is a baby.", "Jennifer has fat thighs." ( I was NINE- do we have fat thighs at nine??), "Jennifer is so ugly."  You get the picture.  I tried so hard not to cry.  I didn't want them to call me a baby again, but I finally ran from the living room in tears while they laughed.  And I called my mom to come pick me up.  That, of course, made everything worse.  And to add insult to injury, while I didn't know what they told the parents the next morning when I wasn't there, I know it wasn't the truth, because I was informed by the girl that hosted the party that her parents were very angry that I went home and I was not welcome at their house anymore.

It never occurred to me when I had kids that I would have to face this again.  And that it would hurt so much worse when it was my kid going through these things.

I got lucky.  I had a son first.  Boys pick and tease, but quickly get over it.  I have had a few minor incidents with Noah, but nothing major.  The most memorable involved a GIRL.

Noah has an August birthday.  That means he is always one of the younger kids in his class.  I volunteered to help his class during Field Day when he was in Kindergarten and there was one particular little girl that had hit a massive growth spurt and was a whole head taller than Noah.  By the time they had Field Day, all the kids in Kindergarten had turned six.  All except for Noah and one other little girl in his class with an August birthday.  And this other mean girl kept isolating them.  I heard her on a few occasions say things like, "All the six-year-olds can come stand over here by me, but the BABY FIVE-YEAR-OLDS have to stay over there!"

I have never wanted to badly to punch a child in my life.

That is until two days ago.

Noah has started school here already but Zoe doesn't start until next week, so she and I have had a lot of mommy/daughter time.  Since we are still in temporary lodging, we are limited on our entertainment  options.  It was beautiful outside, so I took her out to the playground.  There were two other kids playing.

As soon as I sat on the bench, Zoe was beside me saying, "I tried to play on the slide, but that kid said, 'Here comes the bad guy!' and I am NOT the bad guy.  But she keeps saying it!"  I told her she didn't have to play with them if she didn't want to and to just go slide and ignore them.

I watched as she hesitantly headed over to the slide.  She climbed up and one kid screamed, "Bad guy!" and they scampered away.  Zoe looked a little crestfallen, but proceeded to slide down the slide and mind her own business.  And then, the other little girl who looked about Zoe's age (and whose mother was sitting RIGHT THERE watching all this) walked up to Zoe, cocked her head and (to the tune of nanny nanny boo boo) said, "Ha Ha Ha Ha Haaaa Haaa!"  Zoe ignored her and she ran off.  But every time she passed Zoe, if Zoe would glance her way, she would either stick her tongue out at Zoe or hum her little taunting tune.

The mother did nothing.

All of my previous childhood incidents like this came screaming back at me, and I hurt so badly for her.  I know she was just wondering what she did to warrant this response from this kid.

Finally, afraid that I was going to get arrested for punching a five-year-old in the mouth, I called Zoe and we left the playground.

With the promise that I would play a game with her in the room and we would come back later.

When the Mean Girls were gone.

(I don't know how I am going to make it through the teen years- she is just in Kindergarten!)