Friday, April 15, 2011

He Said, She Said

It's happened again. Boy trouble.

This time, it's a boy who's a friend.  I'm pretty sure what happened would be brushed off by any of his boy friends.  Poor Big K isn't used to being "one of the guys" yet.

In a totally boyish way, he was teasing her-- rhyming her name.  Problem being that her name just happens to rhyme with "fat".

Now, if you've ever met Big K, you know--- the girl ain't fat.  Not even close.  In fact, there's not even a chance she thinks she's fat. 
She does, in fact, have quite a little 6-pack going from all the tumbling she's been doing. She has long, skinny but surprizingly muscular legs.  She's actually (if I do say so myself) pretty darn cute.

So, this taunting sort of irked to a point where she couldn't hold back.  In fact she didn't hold back.  Her foot.  She kicked him.

Unfortunately for her, but fortunately for him, she's a pretty bad aim and she ended up hurting her foot while kicking him. (Still not exactly clear on that one...) Later, when asked about limping, she spilled it.  Got in trouble (good), and he did too.

Typical Mom/Daughter late night talk.  The kind that usually happen when you let them stay up too late.  She starts acting snuggly (I love this, but I know it means a bomb is about to dropped on me...).  She hummms.... she hawwwwss... and finally spills the whole thing.    She looks to me for that moment when you know..


Seriously.  I reassure her she is darling, not fat, and that boys tease.  I ask if she could play with someone else.  (This is always met with defeat.  They are friends, their sisters are friends, their moms are friends, and.... her best friend is even his girlfriend.)  Where to go from here?

I grew up with a brother.  So I understood a certain amount of ribbing and "abuse" was normal from boys.  Even boys who were friendly.  Big K doesn't quite get this yet.

If you were expecting great parenting advice here, SORRY-- wrong blog!  I usually feel like I do okay as a Mom.  Tonight there was nothing I had that was going to help.  I miss those days when a kiss on a scraped knee, a bandaid and a popsicle made everything better.....  We're venturing too quickly into a world I feel horribly unprepared for.  A world full of boys, and hurts, and problems Mom can't solve. 

At least, not with a popsicle.

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