Recently, my 7 year old wasn’t invited to the birthday party of a (supposedly) dear friend. When I discovered this, I was devastated for her. It didn’t help that I was hormonal that particular day, but I went off like a firecracker in the privacy of our shitty Mitsi that afternoon. Embarked on a monologue of “you’re better than this”, “you deserve so much more than a friend like that”, “you deserve”, “you deserve”, “you deserve”. And she does “deserve” better than the ambivalence of this particular friend, but then I pulled my head out of my arse and realised that 1) this friend had the right to invite whomever she wanted to her party, 2) we don’t always get (nor should we always get) what we deserve and 3) this was not my childhood.
I had gone kamikaze on her (perceived) rejection, whilst Scout sat in the back of the car, stoic and rich with concessions. “It’s OK mum. I understand. She could only invite 3 kids to her party. I don’t mind.”
My heart broke for her. Smashed into tiny splinters of rehashed rejection that was all my own. She was being brave. She had already sucked it up and moved on. A 7 year old. Braver than her own mother. In that momentary scene, you would have easily mistaken who was the child and who was the parent.
I realised that I’ve brought a lot of my own childhood baggage to the parenting table. When I was about 9, a similar thing happened to me. My so-called BFF didn’t invite me to her (large) birthday party. I remember asking my mum if I could buy her a birthday present to give to her at school because, after all she was my friend. I remember my own mum going off like a firecracker, not at me, but as an impassioned response to the naivety of a 9 year-old who had just had her arse kicked by a bitchy kid and her cliquey minions. I didn’t feel brave at the time, just a bit stupid. But I put on that indifferent face as I processed it and the next time it happened (as it inevitably did), my armour was just that bit stronger.
We can hurt our mortal bodies, wince through the agonising rush of injury [be brave!]. I’ve had my share of physical torment and have smiled through the fingers of pain [put on a brave face!], but to me there’s nothing more devastating than seeing my own kids going through the same rejections that I did when I was young [I have to be brave for them].
It is my job to be there for my girls and pick up their wounded hearts as they navigate through life. And part of that is accepting that they won’t always be invited to parties, they won’t always be picked by the popular boy (or girl), they won’t always get the job that they covet. The resilience they are building is an imperative part of how they will deal with hurt and rejection right throughout their lives. But I feel their every disappointment acutely as I try to stop the irritating detritus of my own childhood memories from nattering over my shoulder (for the record, it is not a good look, shaking detritus from your shoulder when talking to your kids. They tend to look at you strangely). These neuroses don’t belong to my children.
Some days I am brave for my kids. Others, not so much. And there are times when the strong armour that I built in childhood unravels and cracks in the face of the same things happening to my kids. I don’t want it for them, but they need it, in a way, to become strong. I’m preparing myself for the times when my childrens’ hearts crumble, heal, swell with love, pride. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. Being brave for my kids when I just want to cry for them.
My parenting journey is just beginning.
Linking up with My Mummy Daze for “Stories of Me” and Mama Grace for FYBF.
I am glad your little girl is taking it all so well and being so brave and accepting and courageous herself. It is their loss not hers!!! You must be very proud of her!!! And a huge congratulations to you for doing such a great job – c’mon you gotta give yourself credit for such a great kid!
I totally agree – always be there for our children and hope that they will always come to us for everything.
Visiting from #FYBF – hoping to read more of your stories in the days to come!
I am hugely proud of her, but I can’t help but feel it’s been a massive fluke and almost in SPITE of my baggage. I know. Give myself a break and all that. Kx
I had to give myself the “resilience building” lecture myself recently when my littlest boy was not invited to a party. It’s so hard to stop your own memories of past hurts colouring your response! We just love them so much we want to save them fro every hurt we ever experienced – even though we know we can’t.
YES! It’s like childhood dredged up all over again. Bites. Kx
Beautiful post. I am dreaded the day when my daughter feels her first bit of rejection. But you’re right, we need to be brave for them. Thank you for the reminder.
Thanks Amanda. It’s HARD to be brave though. Which is why they call it bravery, I guess. Kx
yes that old resilience. Hard to teach but oh so necessary. You will do fine my friend xx
Thanks Martine. It’s such a wobbly, uncertain road, this raising girls business. Will I see you at DPCon? Kx
I don’t know how I’m going to be when my twinlets go through stuff like this. One of the twins particularly surprises me, though. I’m still in the mentality that, because he was born tiny, it reflect on his weaknesses and his vulnerabilities now as a 3 year old toddler. Then I see him in the playground, fighting off the kids bigger than him trying to grab his toy. He knows how to hold his own. And it’s right there, I think, maybe it’ll all be okay and he is far more resilient than I give him credit for.
I don’t think we give our kids nearly enough credit, Grace. I know I don’t. They’re going to be far more resilient than we are ever going to be (and that’s saying something). Kx
Oh I feel for you and her. I had disappointments and rejection like this too and I can hardly bear thinking about my little 3 year old going through the same thing, but that is life. There is a lot of disappointment and heartbreak
I wish it weren’t so…sob…
It sucks in a major way. But we went through it and came out the other end, so they certainly can do! Kx
So very true. We want to shield our children from every hurt, every rejection, every embarrassment, every heartache. But the truth is, we can’t. As you articulated so well, all we can do is teach them to be resilient – to get up when life knocks them down.
It’s so hard to do though, when the Ghosts of Rejection Past come knocking, like a harbinger of doom. I hate it, but it’s the job. You do the job. Kx
You take the best pictures of your gorgeous girls Kimberley!
And OMG I know your pain! My 4.5yr old is a lot like me and I stuggle not to get emotional when he faces fears and social situations. I don’t think I’m going to handle my kids in primary school. I’ll be a trainwreck. But, I think they’re resilient little buggers and sometimes they absorb their emotions from us, so maybe if we sucked it up a little more often, we’d break the chain?
xx
Yo thanks Kel! They are certainly my magical muses! I think it’s important for them to see us emotional, I don’t see a problem with that, but I did overstep the line with my tirade. Scout was probably in the back thinking “wtf? WTF? It’s no big deal dude”. Parenting FAIL. Kx
You know last year my 4 year old only wanted boys at her Princess themed party and most of my close girlfriends had boys – and I was totally put in my place by them, told that I was horrible etc etc to reject other kids. But it was what my daughter wanted, and I didn’t invite and then not uninvite and they didn’t even know she had a party but their mums did. Anyway it was a long saga. But I feel for you and if my older child was not invited and everyone else was I’d fall to the floor in a heap. She is turning 5 soon and I’m not sure what to do now, I don’t want to upset everyone again – but who do I please?!!!
School mums are the worst for that shit. I do get it, in a way, I get that the rejection of their kids BITES, but there’s a way to handle it, and part of that is sucking it down and accepting that they can’t be invited to everything. I don’t like that they harassed you though – WTF is up with THAT? I reckon our kids have barely a clue at that age that are being left out, and if they do, they don’t care. A bit different when they’re older though – that’s going to sting something fierce. Kx
I hear ya! Going through these EXACT feelings at the moment. Oh my gosh it is confronting.
It sure is, Margot! Kx
Motherhood is bittersweet in this way. No doubt our own Mums wish to liberate us from the heartache of motherhood ~ and so they cycle goes!
x
Ah the cycle of life. I think if we have good role models, we become good role models and in return pass it down so that our kids become good role models. I’m really f*cking trying (sigh, in so many ways) but slip up sometimes when emotions and irrationality get in the way. I’m sure our mums didn’t get it right all the time either (in fact I’m sure they didn’t). Kx
I can understand it can be so hard for the heart of a mother but your daughter took it in such a good way.
Yeah, she’s a little champion, Rita! Kx