I Hate Other Kids.

Actually, I don't hate all other kids. I just hate all mean kids. 

Allow me to explain. 

Today I took the little man down to the beach (again!) and in the sand they had the most awesome park. As we began playing I noticed these two cute little pigtailed girls having a tea party. Complete with kettle and tea cups. I remember thinking to myself how adorable they were (emphasis on were.) My little man and I continued to play next to them as a sweet little blond girl with ringlets in her hair approached. "Can I play with you guys," she asked in her cute little 5 year old voice. To which the other girls responded, "No, we don't want to be your friend." The little girl asked why, and of course the snotty others had no reason for her, they just didn't. "Find your own friends," one of them said. "We don't like you," said the other.

My heart was breaking for her. There was no reason for this rejection. She had the same clothes. Same cute blond hair. Same little smile. I stood there not knowing what to do. I wanted to go up to "those" girls and explain to them that one day this type of behavior would bite them in the ass. I wanted to run over to their mommies and tell them what their "adorable" little ones were saying. I really wanted to cry for the one who was now all alone after such a tragic rejection. 

The fact is I did nothing. I'm not sure of what the proper etiquette is. My little man is so little that I've never been faced with this sort of situation. So Liam and I went to the big kid part of the park where she now was playing and we asked her to help us build a sand castle. She smiled and played with us until her mommy said it was time to go home. I wanted to hug her when she left. I wanted to tell her that in the end those girls never win. That one day she will have more friends than she can imagine. 

Now I can't sleep because it finally hit me that one day someone might be mean to my little man. My perfect little baby might one day be told he is not good enough, or cool enough, or smart enough. I know, I know, such is life, these are growing experiences. This is the kind of stuff that defines who we become as adults. But THIS IS MY BABY. I wanted to kick some five year old butt today at the park and I didn't even know these kids. If my little man ever comes home in tears or god forbid with a black eye my husband better lock me in the  basement to keep me from seeking retribution. Make fun of me fine. May fun of my baby, well, I don't know what I'd do. After I got done crying and telling him how amazing he is, I can't imagine that it would be pretty. Just thinking about it, I can feel my heart literally breaking.

I really hate mean kids.