I feel for my daughters. I am sure these kinds of things morph in little boys, but, as I have none, I am going to stick to what I know.
Growing up is such a hard thing to do. Even in the early stages. I can’t imagine (and am so glad I can’t remember) the frustration in learning how to walk or talk or make those pudgy little hands do what you want them to do.
Then there is going to school the first time. The teachers, the rules, the other kids. What a shock that must be. If you can’t remember the uncomfortable nature of that time, think back to that room full of people you walked into where you knew no one, were unfamiliar with the “way things are done,” and unsure about how you would be received.
Once you have the routine of going to school, summer comes and you have to do it all over again with new people. Then again and again.
After you have mastered the “first day of school” routine, hormones begin to brew. Most grown people I know have a hard time dealing with the stresses of everyday life and the drama that comes with it. How much more difficult must it be for a kid? They don’t even understand what is going on within themselves, much less grasp the fact that it is also happening in their friends.
In walks little girl conflict. Friends today…wait, not friends…but we are…but you made me so mad…but you just don’t listen…but I already told you…but she said…no I didn’t she said…but I heard you say…and you know what you did…not friends…wait we are friends.
I remember little girl chaos. Wouldn’t go back there for a winning lotto ticket – not even the big one. It was tough. The feelings getting all grown up while the tools to cope were still so under developed. Things that were fun aren’t so much anymore. Learning who you are, where you fit and where you’re going becomes a challenge. Getting big can be just so…painful.
Believe me, I understand the process is necessary. It is a road we all must travel. But it is a road I know and when I think of my babies having to endure those things – it breaks my heart.
I am not a mommy who wishes to shelter her children. But I don’t want them to hurt either. When it happens, it is hard to watch. They look to you to fix it, give them the words, and make it go away. They don’t understand it’s not that easy.
There is little one can do to make easy this rite of passage. But I will fight like a dog to do what I can – these are my babies after all. I will remember to remember. It wasn’t easy. Small things didn’t feel so small. Just listening was a good fix – trying to understand was better. These are the things I will offer – with all the best intentions.