Newsflash: Not Everyone Likes You

Like most kids after school, Ellie isn't usually very forthcoming about her day. Our conversation is probably the same as it is for millions of parents and kids everywhere:

Me: How was your day, Buddy?

Ellie: Fine.

Me: Did you do anything interesting?

Ellie: No.

But this week Ellie burst from the crowd of jostling second grade elbows and backpacks with a lot to say.

"Something happened today, Mommy. Something not very nice."

I'll give you the abbreviated version, because the Ellie version was, shall we say, detailed.

According to Ellie, it was during recess and she and a group of children were playing basketball. Ellie said she noticed that some people were only cheering for one of the players.


That's Ellie on the right, saying: "That might hurt other kids' feelings."


Ellie announced that she didn't think it was very nice and one of the girls (who was doing the cheering) shouted, "You're not the coach, Ellie!" And that's when a bunch of people laughed.

Thus ensued a lot of she said, she said. I think Ellie was mostly embarrassed. And she felt misunderstood. She was just trying to help. She was looking out for the other kids who weren't getting cheered for. And the girl who accused her of being the coach is someone that is mentioned quite a bit when it comes to conflict. She and Ellie just seem to spar.

I found the drawings above when I was cleaning out Ellie's room (I try to keep out of her room as much as I can but she will not part with a single piece of paper and wants to save everything--her desk had become unusable--there were actually coloring pages from Thanksgiving on it, so it was time).

She did these drawings after I read to her and tucked her into bed one night this week. Clearly, she was really, really bothered by the exchange on the playground. That night she also wrote a letter to the girl, who she said she "really wanted to work thing out" with. In the letter, Ellie apologized for what she called a "misunderstanding." She stayed up late writing this note and she crept downstairs around 9:30 and asked me if I thought she should give it to the girl or read it to her. I told her I wasn't sure and what did she think? We concluded she would think about it, and decide later how to handle the note.

The next day after school, Ellie informed me that she talked to her teacher and that she, the girl and the guidance counselor were going to get together to talk about things. I told her I thought that was a good idea. I know you are all on the edge of your seats about the outcome of that meeting but it apparently hasn't happened yet.

This morning Ellie brought up the girl again. "I hope we can work things out," Ellie said quietly, out of the blue, as she waited for her toast. Clearly, this is something that is weighing on her and occupying a lot of her thoughts. I feel for her. In a word, girls suck (don't worry, I was good--I didn't tell her that).

But I remember the pain of fourth grade (fourth grade!) and not knowing who was going to be my friend on any given day And as we all know, it starts earlier and earlier (as is evidenced by Ellie's second grade "drama.") And honestly? Does it ever really end? But a wonderful thing comes with age: we just stop caring what people think of us and boy is it THE BEST.

As I waited for Ellie's toast to pop, thoughts of fourth grade and sixth grade and eleventh grade and 27-year old (and hell-40-year old!) spats swirled around in my head. Finally I looked at Ellie and said: You know what Sweetie? You are doing everything right. You're voicing your feelings. You're explaining your side of the story. You're apologizing when it's appropriate. You are nice to people and you do your best. That's ALL you can do. The simple fact is, not everyone likes everyone. This girl just might not want to be your friend. And you know what? That's OK. I mean, think about it. Do you want to be EVERYONE'S friend?

Ellie shook her head and said she guessed not.

I am in no way belittling or negating Ellie's feelings. I just felt the need to share with her the simple lesson I wish I'd learned a LONG time ago and it's not an easy one to swallow when you're a people pleaser like I am (and like I know Ellie is). Not everyone is going to like you. And that's OK.

It's probably cold comfort for a seven year old who wants everyone to be her friend, but I felt better saying it, and I hope she heard just a little of it, even if it doesn't get fully absorbed for another thirty five years.

Never Alone and Who's Going to the Sing-A-Long?

I had a rare day at home with "just" the twins this week.


Hey Harry. Whatcha doin? Yougonnaeatthis?


FORTHELOVEOFALLTHATISGOODWOMAN,LEAVEMEALONE.

I mean, I can only imagine that's what Harry might be saying.

Lucy woke up from her nap before Harry (which is why he's eating his lunch in these pictures and she's already finished), so we had a rare thirty minutes just to ourselves.

Lucy spent most of that time walking around the house asking "Where's Harry?" and "Is it time to go pick up Ellie?"

She asked about Ellie all day long actually.

"Where's Ellie? I want Ellie."

These two. Oh my.


"Mommy! Look at us!" they called to me, from the living room. (Ellie took her shirt off. So Lucy did. Because, of course.)

At this moment, in these days, Ellie can do no wrong in Lucy's eyes.

"Where's Ellie? What's Ellie doing? I want to go see Ellie."

I look at them playing Barbie Fairies or dress up, I watch as Ellie gives Lucy "pony rides" around the kitchen table, knocking into the back of my legs as I slice carrots for dinner. Two little girls. In my house. And I still can't quite believe it, that I get to witness this all as it unfolds.

Ellie is phenomenally, unshakably patient with the twins but it's Lucy who tries her the most (wrinkling Ellie's drawings just as she completes them, overturning her perfectly placed tea set. And yet. Ellie is unflappably calm with both of them. They destroy, she shrugs and laughs: "Oh Lucy!"

These days Ellie is a key player in bedtime for the twins. They wait for her to "tuck them in."
"Ellie! Come give me a kiss," Lucy calls, as Ellie climbs the stairs.

Some of Ellie's techniques are more effective than others: "If you don't lie down I'm telling Mama, Grandma and everyone I know!"

I think that I spent my whole early childhood pining for a sister, wondering what that relationship would be like, that constant companion, the never ending play date (not that that word existed in 1978). Of course I completely idealized it--there was never any grief about sharing or resentment about who got more attention. It was just, fun. All fun, all the time. Because I knew with a sister I would never be lonely.

Sisters or brothers, you can certainly say that much about our house. No one is EVER Lonely.

***

We were brave and left the house with all four kids last weekend. We even went really nuts and took them to a restaurant, of all places! I know!

The food seemed to take forever.

So we passed the time making silly hats. Butter packages and mini creamers, of course.



Classy. That's us.



Luckily the hot chocolate (and my coffee) hit the table right away. Lucy has a newfound love for hot chocolate (and by hot chocolate I mean barely warmed chocolate milk topped with whipped cream).



I think it's fair to say she approves.



I like to call this look "Cocoa Drunk."

***

It's finally here!



I'd like to take the big kids this weekend. I mean, they can't stop talking about it. They won't leave me alone, it's just "When the Sing-A-Long Frozen, Mom?" All. The. Time. In reality they have no idea it's happening and it's really me that wants to sing all the songs from "Frozen" in a darkened theater, resting only to put away a large tub of popcorn with extra butter.

OK so I might be more excited than they are.


We showed Harry and Lucy some clips from "Frozen" last weekend and Lucy was completely riveted. Part of me thinks she might actually enjoy the sing-a-long version but another part of me is also afraid that she of the Many Opinions will not appreciate all the singing and will, in true Lucy "I'm The Boss Style" order the audience to "STOP SINGING!"

I've long been plotting to get the kids the "Frozen" plush dolls (damn you Disney store for being so close to my office and directly in my path every single day). Leo and Ellie were easy: they are both smitten with Elsa (did I tell you that Leo has decided he wants to be her when he grows up?). Lucy likes Anna. When I asked Harry who he liked, Anna or Elsa?


He answered, "Olaf."

I swear that Olaf is totally for Harry. Completely.