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Wednesday night at dinner I asked the usual questions of Little Missy to get some conversation started: What treat did you eat at preschool? What book did Ms. Nettie read? What friends did you play with? As usual, she could easily remember her treat but not the exact book (although we did determine there was story time), but her answer to the last question was different than normal.
“Um, I tried to sit next to Annie [not her real name, of course] but she didn’t want to sit by me.” Little Missy looked out the window as she continued. “She wanted to sit by Katie. And that made me really sad.” As she finished her last sentence her eyes began to tear up.
My precious baby girl experienced her first open rejection and I could do nothing to stop it. Sure, she’s been rejected by her brother, but with him she just yells “You’re not being nice to me, G!” and they awkwardly work it out as preschoolers do. Or I’ve watched other friends of hers not want to play her games and leave her to do something else, but she’s never really noticed. I guess now her little brain has developed enough to understand rejection and feel the appropriate response. Stinkin’ development.
Of course I’ve also watched her reject her friends. The other day at lunch she didn’t want to sit by one of her friends simply because she wanted to sit by me, and I guess in her mind friends and Mommy don’t mix. But she hurt her little friend’s feelings just the same.
As my sweet baby teared up the other night I did not know what to say, except “I’m so sorry, Sweet Pea. That must have made you sad. But sometimes it’s okay to sit by ourselves, and I’m sure Annie will be excited to see you in a couple days.” My desired response of running over to her and hugging her as we cried together would not have been appropriate, no matter how much I wanted to snuggle her and take away her pain. Luckily, Hubby and G wandered into the dining room just then and distracted Little Missy.
I don’t think she’s thought of the incident since. But of course I have. I told Hubby the story after the kids were in bed and we were both sad for her together. And her little face with the tears in her eyes keeps popping up in my mind.
Today I may have to give her more hugs than usual. And probably some donuts, too.
Wednesday night at dinner I asked the usual questions of Little Missy to get some conversation started: What treat did you eat at preschool? What book did Ms. Nettie read? What friends did you play with? As usual, she could easily remember her treat but not the exact book (although we did determine there was story time), but her answer to the last question was different than normal.
“Um, I tried to sit next to Annie [not her real name, of course] but she didn’t want to sit by me.” Little Missy looked out the window as she continued. “She wanted to sit by Katie. And that made me really sad.” As she finished her last sentence her eyes began to tear up.
My precious baby girl experienced her first open rejection and I could do nothing to stop it. Sure, she’s been rejected by her brother, but with him she just yells “You’re not being nice to me, G!” and they awkwardly work it out as preschoolers do. Or I’ve watched other friends of hers not want to play her games and leave her to do something else, but she’s never really noticed. I guess now her little brain has developed enough to understand rejection and feel the appropriate response. Stinkin’ development.
Of course I’ve also watched her reject her friends. The other day at lunch she didn’t want to sit by one of her friends simply because she wanted to sit by me, and I guess in her mind friends and Mommy don’t mix. But she hurt her little friend’s feelings just the same.
As my sweet baby teared up the other night I did not know what to say, except “I’m so sorry, Sweet Pea. That must have made you sad. But sometimes it’s okay to sit by ourselves, and I’m sure Annie will be excited to see you in a couple days.” My desired response of running over to her and hugging her as we cried together would not have been appropriate, no matter how much I wanted to snuggle her and take away her pain. Luckily, Hubby and G wandered into the dining room just then and distracted Little Missy.
I don’t think she’s thought of the incident since. But of course I have. I told Hubby the story after the kids were in bed and we were both sad for her together. And her little face with the tears in her eyes keeps popping up in my mind.
Today I may have to give her more hugs than usual. And probably some donuts, too.
