Monday, February 23, 2009

Throw a Stick at me Cuz Mean Words Hurt

So my dates aren't right on my posts because I waited to post that last one. This weekend I went to a birthday party for one of Ty's friends so I got to witness the preschool social dynamics in person. Without provocation, the girls yelled, "run, it's Ty" and ran away from him. He looked at me and said, "See mommy, they don't like me." I think it is just a game these little girls are playing, but it is hurting my little guys feelings. 

So I went with my angel mama's witness account of the dinosaur throwing and my new info from the party to talk to the teacher this morning. Hooray- thank you Lord- it was a relatively cry free conversation. She said she would look out for the kids running from him and singling him out. That's all I wanted. This woman knows me and knows I'm the first one to admit my flaws and those of my kids. I don't see them through rose-colored glasses. But, I still hung out and observed for a little bit. After all, this child is my job right now. I had things I needed to get done, but he's mine and nobody else is going to look out for him like I will. 

So he goes up to one of his good friends and the kid (we'll call him Timmy) yells to me, "Ty says you said I have to play with him." Obviously, my fabulously orchestrated  and well-practiced role-playing exercise has not worked. Ty has gotten something total different out of our talks. So, I call Ty over to me. Then, Timmy says, "Ty, you're a liar." I give the kid a dirty look. I can't help it. I review with Ty that he should just quietly join in, he doesn't need to say anything. He runs back over to Timmy and another boy and they dig a hole. After watching a bit longer, I walk over, kiss Ty goodbye and say bye to the other boys. Timmy says, "I'm sick of playing with Ty."Okay, so now I have the deep desire to turn into Rebecca DeMornay from "The Hand that Rocks the Cradle" and tell this kid off. But, I have self-control and instead tell him, "That's a mean thing to say and if you don't want to play anymore, you can just walk away." His reply, "I don't want to leave my hole." I walk away, tattle on him to the teacher just so she is even more aware of the situation, and breath deeply all the way to my car.

One of my dear friends once said that whoever made up the saying, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me" is an idiot. I agree with her that I would rather be hit with a stick than have mean words spoken to me that stick with me. I am sure Ty will be fine. He is resilient like most kids are and preschool is meant for these kinds of lessons. But, still, a little like middle school, sometimes I think it would be nice to skip it all together.

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