Growing Pains

As a teenager, I worried about normal teenager stuff: will that boy like me(he didn't), will my skin clear up(it did), will I get a good grade, will I be allowed to go to that party... I find that my fears are occupied by other things now, things like: will those kids like my kids, will Jack learn to be patient and gentle, will Matteas ever sleep through the night, will we all get through this without permanent damage? And lately, I don't have any good answers. I am not comfortable not having the answers. But frankly, it's too early to tell. On Tuesday, I took the boys to the park after picking up Jack from school. I like going somewhere after school on Tuesdays because if we are gone long enough, our produce bin is waiting for us when we get home. There was a soccer field next to the park where we were playing, and some of the girls came to burn off some excess energy after practice. They were six or seven, "older" girls to Jack, though he's almost as tall as they are. I think he was impressed by their cleats and their shin guards, their long blond ponytails, their attitudes of entitlement: we are pretty and we know it, so we will get what we want. He wanted to play with them. Playing with other children has been something we've had to work on with Jack. Six months ago if we were at a park and other kids showed up, he'd panic, latch onto my leg and beg to be taken home. Aaron and I have coached him through dozens of encounters with strangers at the park, encouraging him to say hi to people he doesn't know as long as Mom and Dad are with him. Most of the time, we've been lucky. The kids we've met at the park have been sweet, and most of them, being only children, are thrilled to find a playmate. Most of the time, Jack overcomes his very painful shyness and is rewarded with a friend for the afternoon, and I can see each success emboldening him for future experiences. But not Tuesday. Not these girls. These girls were mean. They were too good for Jack, and they wanted him to know it. Three girls stood giggling together, an unholy trinity of snobbiness. Jack approached them quietly, hoping to be silently drafted into their group without too much trouble. They looked at him, saw the hope in his large blue eyes, and ran off. Not to be discouraged, Jack ran after them. The girls jumped into the monster truck tire in the sand and huddled down out of sight. Jack ran over to the tire and hopped right in, whereupon the girls darted out and ran to the swings. Over and over, they ran from him, and over and over, Jack followed them. When it became clear that they were not going to change their minds about Jack, I took Matteas out of the baby swing and walked over to Jack. "Come play with Mama, Jack," I said brightly. "But I'm playing with those grills(girls) Mom!" "But Jack, those girls are mean; they are running away from you just to make you sad because they know you think they're cool. But they're not. They're shallow, selfish little brats and they're going to be sluts in high school." Okay, that's not what I actually said. What I said was: "What?" "I'm playing with those grills, Mom. We're playing chase!" And before I could get another word out, he ran off again. Part of me wanted to laugh, part of me wanted to cry, and most of me wanted to grab those girls by their long blond ponytails and yank. Hard. I wanted to tell them that torturing someone who likes you isn't real power, that making space for someone new is far more powerful than excluding them, and that in a few more years it will be them chasing Jack and I hope he will treat them better than they treated him. But I didn't say anything. I was just grateful that, for now, Jack is too oblivious to know that they were being cruel. As far as he's concerned, it was another great day at the park filled with new friends and a rollicking game of chase.