I knew the day would come. As soon as I learned on that day in July 2001 that I’d be having a girl … I knew the day would come.
I’ve been parenting for a million years. Real time? 21 years. the first 11 years, I was a mom of boys. That’s how I identified myself .. as a mom of boys. When I discovered baby #3 was on the way, I prayed for a boy. Familiar territory. God thought I’d be better as the mom of boys and a girl. Oh boy … (or not, as the case may be. LOL)
Mean girls would eventually be part of my daughter’s life. Having older kids, I know this. My specific prayer, for a long time, was that my daughter would not be one of those girls. That’s a whole different ball of wax … being the parent of the child causing the problem. Thankfully, that isn’t the case. This time. My continued prayer is that stays that way.
What I didn’t realize is how soon it starts. Unbeknownst to me, it’s 4th grade. Evidently, in 4th grade girls delight in things like talking about their birthday party and casually mentioning, “my mom has called & invited everyone”.
“Mom, did her mom call you?” … (she did not) “Ok, maybe she’ll call tomorrow” (you’re right. maybe she will)
My sweet girl doesn’t quite “get” that even though someone seems to be nice and is friends with the same girls as my girl is … that doesn’t mean she’s going to be invited to the party. And there’s nothing I can do to fix that.
I don’t want to fix my girl. I love her sweet spirit. I’m told by teachers, counselors, and other adults that I’ve got a great kid on my hands. I’ve got nothing to worry about. Easy for them to say, right?
Some days I miss the terrible twos.
