UncertaintyPosted: September 3, 2010
The house is much, much quieter now. We’ve mastered the dropoff, the pickup, the waking up, the lunch making, the hair combing. We’ve figured out how to schedule bathtime, book time, bedtime. We listen to music, we talk about our day, we giggle and laugh. I get frustrated when I have to ask her seven times to please put on her shoes. She gets frustrated when I won’t let her have a snack ten minutes before dinner. We have a routine. We know each other. She thinks I can fix everything.
But yesterday she came home quiet, and said that S and S, her preferred school pals, didn’t want to play with her. “They said they were playing a game with just two. So they wouldn’t let me play. And that they didn’t want to be my friends today.” I wanted to hit something, to hold her tight, to play with her EVERY DAY and show her that those kids don’t matter.
But instead I just held her, and smoothed her hair, and read her a book. And that night, I cried in my bed, because someone hurt my baby’s feelings. I can’t believe it’s already starting.