Ella's "Friends"

I watched Ella get picked on last night.  I was doing double duty, watching Cal's baseball game as best I could while keeping an eye on Ella as she played at the nearby park.  I was close enough to see everything going on at the park but far enough away that I couldn't hear any words being exchanged amongst the kids.  So I don't really know how it all went down.  I probably never will.  But I do know what I saw, and I didn't like it.

Ella had already made a few trips back to our seats on the sideline to check in and finish eating her "snack" (her term; a more accurate term, which she didn't realize at the time, was "dinner") -- the second half of a sunflower seed butter and jelly sandwich and the three sandwich crackers of the six that I didn't eat.  She actually took the sandwich with her back to the park only to return a few minutes later to inform me, complaining, "my friends told me my sandwich is stupid."  (We don't use the term "stupid" -- Ella knows this very well.)

Nice friends.  This was probably the first sign that playtime at the park wasn't as pleasant and friendly as it seemed from a distance.  So I upped my attention to it a bit.

Between the batters and plays and instruction happening on the field, I scoped out the park area, my mommy radar programmed to hone in on a salmon, tutu'd dress and bold Elsa-and-Anna leggings.  It was a 10-second cycle of tension followed by relief once I did spot the aformentioned dress-leggings combo scrambling up and down the slides, scurrying across the bridge, hanging from the monkey bars or sliding down the fireman's pole. Watch, scope, breathe easy.  It was a 10-second cycle from which hindsight is telling me I probably should have spared myself by situating myself in the play area to watch the game from a distance.

And then I saw her little "friend," a five-year-old snot who, the week before, didn't have nice things to say to or about Ella even then, kick Ella... twice, maybe even three times. Yes, she kicked my little girl.  I was shocked. I instinctively marched over there with no clue what I might say or do.

I am passive aggressive to a fault.  I virtually always choose the "high road" and as a general rule just avoid conflict altogether and don't have a use for it other than to set my kids on the right path to personhood. I believe there are "right" fights to pick.  I also know that Ella can be bossy and mouthy, two traits that wouldn't necessarily be a good base for a budding friendship or even a friendly playtime.  Lucky for me, I saw her throw some wood chips as I walked over, which I used to interject myself into the scene because this was a fight I was picking.

"Ella, I don't want to see you throw wood chips again," I directed to Ella who was standing on the bridge of the park playset.  This isn't the first time I've uttered this phrase, which clearly falls on deaf ears.  She and Cal throw wood chips all the time around the playset in our own backyard.  It drives me nuts.

The little snot -- the one who kicked Ella -- was standing next to me.  I don't remember if she said something to me first, but I naturally turned my attention to her and scolded her, pointing my finger at her as I did so, "And you.  I saw you kick her," you little snot.  "We DON'T kick people.  It's not nice."

The little snot said something about Ella, I don't remember what.  I do remember that it wasn't accusatory, where Ella's actions led this snot to react by kicking her.  I do remember thinking it was just downright mean, and I do remember she was almost proud as she said it.

I really don't know how much I am allowed to scold another parent's kid.  This is all new to me.  I'm just making this up as I go. In a moment of weakness, I acknowledged Ella's... well... Ellaness, and added, still directing my words and pointing my finger at the snot, "Ella isn't always an angel,but that doesn't matter.  We DON'T kick people.  I DON'T want to see you do that again."

I then asked Ella if she was okay, and she responded that she was.  So I started to walk away.

There's a scene in the movie Meet the Parents where Jack and Greg (father and future son-in-law) are sitting in separate cars at a stoplight.  It's a race to get back to the house first.  One of them, I don't remember which one, pointed his pointer and middle fingers at his own eyes and then his pointer at the other guy to say, "I'm watching you."  I don't know that I actually made that sign to her, but I felt like I did.  I was watching her.

I made it about 3/4 of the way back to our chairs and stopped to keep a closer eye on Ella and her "friends," which included the little snot, a boy maybe twice Ella's age and a couple of other little boys.  I saw the little snot look back at me periodically, so my being there was keeping her in check.  My attention was on that 8-year-old punk now -- he just seemed to be on the verge of doing something not so nice to my kid.

My legs were shaking.  I watched Ella run to one of those bouncy horsey rides (I think it may have actually been an alligator or a dragon).  The punk, the two other little boys and the little snot followed her.  As Ella scrambled to get onto the horsey/alligator/dragon ride, her "friends" pounded and pulled on it to make it was unstable and difficult for her to get on.  I wanted to jump in and jump all over these kids, but I resisted.  I don't know if that was the right thing to do. My intentions were in the right place -- I wanted to let Ella try to hold her own, to battle through a situation herself and know that she can withstand it.  I knew she was safe.

She eventually did get on to the horsey/alligator/dragon ride despite her "friends'" best efforts to prevent her from doing so.  I still couldn't hear what they were saying.  But eventually, I saw Ella scramble off of the ride and come running to me, crying.  Once she reached me, I learned that she had bumped her head on the horsey/alligator/dragon ride because the kids had been mean to her.  That she was hurt wasn't unusual -- Ella gets "hurt" often... not that I liked how this getting-hurt situation went down.

I hugged and kissed her and then told her that she could go back and play in the park and didn't need to play with those kids.  I knew she was okay at that moment, and I really didn't want some mean kids to keep her from having her fun.  To be honest, though, I don't know that she IS okay.  I don't know how yesterday's non-friend-making went down, but I have my ideas.  Not that anyone EVER deserves to be kicked or ganged up on, but I don't think that Ella's helping herself by being bossy or by being a tattle tell or by telling people she "hates" them, all behaviors or words that I wouldn't doubt Ella used during yesterday's stint at the park.

To date, I've been finding comfort in Ella already showing signs of being strong and her own person.  Ella doesn't do things that Ella doesn't want to do.  She certainly doesn't follow.  These are going to be excellent traits for my kid when she's a teenager.  But she's got to lighten up or she's just not going to have any friends to even risk following as a teenager.

Again, I don't know exactly what it was that resulted in Ella's "friends" picking on her; but I do know that I need to keep a closer eye -- and ear -- on it so that I can react accordingly, not that I know what that reaction should or will be.  I'm sure it'll involve a little righting Ella's ship, so to speak, along with a little sticking up for her, not that she necessarily needs that.  She does that pretty well on her own.  But I need her to know I'm there for her, sticking up for her, too.