It’s the official start of the summer doldrums around here, whereby if you can’t get out and about before 8:00 AM or you aren’t participating in some water-based activity you’re pretty much screwed. I had a really fun Thursday and Friday, when our wee little 5 month old compressor on our bouncing baby central AC went out. Yes, it was under warranty, but dammit.
Stella rocked her first week at zoo camp. There were a few hiccups, but they were minor and few. There was even a day when she didn’t get her meds and kept her shit together, which is gratifying. She’s back at the zoo this week, so I’m thinking we’re in for smooth sailing. She’s also starting martial arts this evening; I hear it’s good for ADHD brains, and that’s what she picked over piano. My house may about to become violent.
The Dude is the Dude. That kid is relatively unflappable. He has developed the “I’m scared” crap at night, which is irritating and comes out of absolutely nowhere. I also got him to sit through his first movie in the theater, Captain Underpants. I don’t count the Secret Life of Pets last summer, when I spent all but the first 15 minutes chasing him around the lobby. Best of all (to me) was that I bribed him with “science.” I promised if he was a big boy and was still and quiet we’d get the microscope out when we got home. Win!
Something did happen that bothers me. We went to a local shop to let the kids pick out a project to do. We ran into one of Stella’s classmates and her mom. The mom is great. She’s one of those folks you see that you wish you could hang out with, just to get to know them better. And you would, except for time and work and kids and…
Anyway. Stella saw her classmate and ran up and gave this girl a huge hug. I thought it was sweet. The other girl did not. She had a look on her face as if Stella had the world’s worst BO ever. Stella didn’t notice, thankfully. My heart hurt.
The mom gushed that we should all get together and the girls could play and all will be right with the world. I wanted to ask her if she was aware that her kid would probably rather have a needle jammed into her eye than hang out with my daughter. I didn’t. I just awkwardly tried to take my girl and get the hell away. I probably seemed either completely crazy or she thought I needed a restroom really badly.
Dammit, y’all. On one hand, I’m glad Stella doesn’t notice that some – many? – kids don’t want to hang out with her. She’s honestly happy to do her own thing for the most part. But I know one day that will change. And she’ll be hurt – badly. On the other hand, she needs to know that her behavior causes kids to be uncomfortable around her, to avoid her.
That shit still bugs me 48 hours later. And I think this will be something here to stay for a while. I remember being bullied. I can remember a kid named Joey Egersits leading a chant of “loser” on the playground for my benefit and enjoyment in 3rd grade. I can remember a girl named Samantha threatening to beat me up in 7th grade. I also know bullying has gotten so much worse since then. I had it easy.
I know the train is coming and it’s unavoidable.
Sorry. Mondays are bad enough without people being maudlin. So for your amusement, I shall show you what my children picked out at the same shop where the hugging went badly:
Yep. They each picked out a cactus pillow. WTF?