This afternoon, my husband took the kids to the park to play. After they got home, Little Man came in and said, “Mommy, Daddy called the kids at the park assholes!”
(At this point I completely give up on the cursing.)
I shot my husband a look–you know, the one that says How dare you while completely ignoring the fact that 90% of any of the so-called bad words LM has used likely came from hearing them from me first.
“Those kids were mean and wouldn’t play with me at all. Every time I would walk up to them and try to do what they were doing, they’d tell each other to ‘let’s go’ and run off so I couldn’t play.”
That burned me up. I talked to my husband about it after LM went to play in his room and he was upset about it too, of course, and had told LM not to worry about “what those asshole kids think anyway” when leaving the park.
Kinda hard to say anything about the “asshole” part.
I get so freaking tired of it, though. Little Man is different, yes. I wish I could find words to describe what a super amazing person he is, but whatever I pick will fall short. I’ve talked about what a great kid he is on here before, and maybe I sound like the typical proud parent, but there truly is something special about him–he’s kind to other kids. He’ll never leave another kid out. He never laughs at anyone. If he sees someone get hurt or struggling with something, he’ll help, not snicker as many do.
It’s kind of sad that those attributes I described belong to those of a decent human being, yet those things put him above the crowd.
I don’t know why other kids have to be so mean to him at times (and this is the least of any of the run-ins, really). He’s funny, he’s charming in his own way, he’s compassionate. Sometimes he struggles a bit socially–as far as not picking up when on when no one else wants to hear one science fact after the other, or he may stand a bit too close and not get that he’s invading someone’s comfort zone, but certainly none of that came to play today, or so I was told.
There is just something about him is different and these kids pick up on that, and then you get the whole wolf pack mentality.
Would it be easier on him if we made him wear his hair like the other kids, instead of letting him choose to keep his longer? Or if we encouraged more of that rough and tough stuff from him, instead of teaching him to use his words to talk things out, be gentle? What could we do to make things easier for him without him having to sacrifice any of who he is?
And for the most part, the other parents don’t give a shit. They call it “boys being boys” or just ignore it altogether.
It definitely hurts LM’s feelings, but he doesn’t let it get to him too much yet. But what happens later? He has such a sunny disposition–is that going to change one day when whatever it is that makes him so resilient to bullying now (particularly when it gets worse as he gets older) possibly goes away and cause him to get depressed or something? (We all know it’s in his genetics.)
I talked to LM tonight before he went to bed about the situation. During the conversation, he told me, “Mommy, I know that I’m different from the other kids.”
Please don’t say you want to be like them, I pleaded in my head.
“But I like being different. I want to be me, not like them. Maybe they’ll be friends with me one day. As you know, a good scientist never gives up.”