Childhood friendships are a very fickle thing. Especially if you're special.
Shea told me this morning that a certain kid who he had been friends with told him that he didn't want to play with him anymore.
Hard to know what to say to that.
I guess the good news is that Shea is talking about it. But, ouch.
Then he said another friend, who was a best buddy just weeks ago, didn't want to play with him either.
It's hard to know the context of all this. Or how real any of it is. I am trying not to make a big deal about it. But I did write a little note to the teacher asking her if she thought it was real.
"Oh well. There are other kids to play with, right? Maybe they will want to play another day." I say brightly, all the while cringing and worried.
That seemed to do the trick and he proceeded to tell me about running a race with yet another kid.
It is hard as a parent to watch this from the sidelines. Each cut gets me too.
Maybe I should be proactive with this new friend that he had the race with. We saw him and his mom at the grocery store.
"Hi Shea!" he said.
"Hi dude!" Shea waving excitedly.
"Hey dude!" he giggled back clearly in on the joke.
"Good bye dude!"
I looked at his mother with amusement. "Shall we try and get these two together for a playdate sometime?" I offered.
"I think we should." she said laughing.
I need to follow that up. But, I wonder how hard to push these things. I would never want to force a relationship for my special kid. It seems like a recipe to backfire.
I will wait for a sunny day and invite them to the beach. Something safe and neutral. I guess I owe it to Shea to keep trying.
As the years go on it is going to get harder. I know that. I've cut my teeth with the first kid but this feels different. This brings up the profound vulnerability again. The mommy bear protectiveness. The "what if it was different" pointless wishes.
Does it ever get easier? No. Probably not.
Those times when you think about your old life
2 hours ago