Life's Toughest Job:

Does a social hierarchy exist in preschoolers? After today, I'm thinking "yes." Annessa was in a funk tonight - mad about a girl at the sitter's who hit her with a toy school bus. "I don't like her. She's not my best friend," she explained.

"Really..." I said, curious to see what she would add.

"She really hurt my feelings. Mama, I will never hit you with my toys."

"Oh, good - and you shouldn't hit anyone else either - you might hurt their feelings too," I said, fully aware of the fact that there have been times when these roles were reversed, and it was my child committing the assault.

Anyway - the conversation went on and on. I realized that this "friendship" (I suppose that's what you call it) was really bothering her. She told me that sometimes she plays by herself and that sometimes she like to play by herself, but sometimes she feels sad when no one wants to play with her.

"Shoot" I thought, trying to search my brain for information on preschool friendships. Searching....Searching......Nada. Damn. Now what?

So, we rocked and rocked and I found myself longing for the "simpler" days when she was tiny. But then I quickly realized that toy assaults will be the least of my worries in 5 years.

I put her to bed (three times I might add...But that's another post), and did what any intelligent, 21st century mom does when they have an issue. I googled it. "What to tell your three year old about friendship problems" - I realize this is probably not the best key word search, but hey - it's been a long day....

I found out that research confirms what I have just now come to realize - the social hierarchy for girls starts at age 3 to 4! "You're not coming to my birthday party" or "Don't play with so-and-so." - stuff like that. There are Mean Girls in preschool for crying out loud! I couldn't help but wonder - is my daughter one of them? It probably depends on the day.

I realize that I can't shelter her from the Mean Girl mud-slinging. I can only teach her ways to cope, teach her to believe in herself, and let her know that she can always find rest at home.

I also realized that I can't stop her from slinging the mud either. But I can teach her compassion and respect.

Man - being a parent is a big job. It is so much more that providing food, shelter and the latest Barbie DVD. We parents are literally creating the next generation of people. Will they be better than we were? Can we help them see the good in people? Will we teach them well? I hope so.

Special Nights

It’s funny how special nights are different for everyone. The term “Special Night” in our house was coined by Rich. A special night is not a night of romance and wine – rather a night quite the opposite. It’s a night when Annessa can sleep in our bed. So every day now, we hear – “Daddy, is tonight a Special Night?” Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn’t.

The funny thing is – every night is becoming a Special Night around 3 am when I hear little bare feet padding along on the now-familiar path from her room to ours. “Mama. Mama. Mama. MAMA.” Her whisper gets louder each time she says my name. “Mama- moooovvvve over.”

So I scoot closer to Rich, the dog moves to the other side of the bed (because he wouldn’t dare sleep next to the unpredictable, ever-moving, sleeping Annessa), and Annessa crawls in with her blankie and her trusty teddy bear Katie.

I used to be a hard-ass about co-sleeping. Never, never, never will I share my bed – in the beginning, it was, what if I roll over on her? Then, as she grew and I realized how much she “roots around” (as my dad would say), and how much I needed my sleep, I renewed my commitment to the “everyone has a bed – you belong in yours” philosophy.

But, now, when I am smack dab in the middle of the two people I love most (and the dog), I realize that I have never slept better in my life.