Kat's Arbitrary Thought Processes

I.  Hate.  Group events.  With a friggin’ passion.

I don’t like crowds.  I don’t like command picnics.  I don’t like Church functions.  I don’t like FRG meetings.  I do not like crowds.  Heck, I’m not a big fan of Co-Op meetings and whatnot either.  I just don’t like crowds.  I’ve never been good with people, and I would much rather stay home and email friends online then meet up face to face.

My kids, are the same way.  The other day, when I announced it was PE day, GeekBoy declared, “I don’t want to go, I don’t like leaving the house.” Now, reality is, he said this mostly because he was already knee-deep in a pile of Legos, working on his next creation. But I can’t blame him. I’m not a big social person either. I’m a wallflower. always has been always will be. I’ve always been on the outside of popular. I blame public school, where I got bullied and made fun of daily. I also blame private school, where I was shut out of virtually everything “cool” because of who I am, and who my dad was (he was a business manager at the school). I do have to recognize the genetic factor, because both of my parents were also outsiders. Being an outsider is not a bad thing. But it is incredibly frustrating for a child of 7, who just wants a turn with ball, but isn’t given one.

I’ve never been on the inside of popular. Not in school, not as a waitress, not as a web designer, not as a scrapbook designer, not even in the blogosphere. I could comment all day on the popular bloggers posts and do every meme out there, and every now and then someone uber cool (Hi Dana! Mamalouges rocks!) will actually comment back. Of course, then I’m star-struck. I’m totally living that Bowling for Soup song, High School Never Ends.

So we had a talk that morning. I told GeekBoy that honestly, I’d rather home too. But. We can’t. PE isn’t just playtime, it’s also a good way for him to learn how to interact with other people, and other kids. Yes, you know how to behave here at home, and playing with your brother and sister is good. But! You need to know how to act around other people, not just us. That’s why we go.  He understood, and we went.  But honestly, I don’t think either of us had fun that day.

I’m sorry baby.  I’m sorry you inherited my social skills.  There is no cure.  And any social interactions will be draining, and hard work.  I know from experience.  I’ve been there, done that.  If you need another source, ask your aunt, MomoT.  She will tell you.  She’s not a social butterfly by nature either.  Yet she continues to maintain a social life through a lot of hard work on her part.    Socialization ain’t all it cracked up to be, but you do need to know how to communicate with people.

I’m sorry sweetheart.

I’ve been there.  I’ve experienced the pain when a peer group rejects you for no real reason.  I’ve lived on the fringe.  I’ve cried myself to sleep many night because of how mean kids can be.  I wish I could make it better.  I wish you didn’t have to experience the same pain.  I live that pain again everytime I watch you struggle to find friends or join a game.

I’ve found a whole new kind of pain though.  One that you will most likely feel yourself when you are grown.  The pain of watching your child, who has finally worked up the nerve to go say hi to a group of kids, get shunned by said group.  Oh baby.  It rips my heart out to see it happen, and I just want to march over there and slap those boys for being mean to you.  You are such a bright, intelligent child.  A joy to be around, with such a great sense of humor.  Trust me, those boys don’t know what they missed out on by not talking to you.

But I know.  I know that nothing I can say will make up for the fact that they didn’t want you.  That they ignored you.  I know the pain they unknowingly caused in your heart.  I felt it in my own.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that there are jerks in this world who will judge you because you are short.  I’m sorry that there are idiots in this world who will shun you because of your age, or your skin color, or the color of your shirt, or whatever foul reason they make up.  I’m sorry that people can be such A–holes sometimes.

I’m sorry.

I wish I could make it better.  I wish…

I don’t blame you for not wanting to leave the house.  Most days I wish I didn’t have to either.  My heart aches to see you go through the same struggles I went through.  Yet I know that interference from a Mom will only make it worse.  Sadly, I know,  the only way to learn to deal with the rejection, is to be rejected.

I’m sorry.

But I will tell you this.  Whatever life throws at you, there will always be a place for you to run home to.  And a Momma, waiting, with arms open wide, to give you a hug, and maybe a cookie.  And if you have a cookie, you’ll probably want a glass of milk.  *S*

I’ll always be here for you baby.  Even when the world is against you, I will be here.  Your safe place to land.  Your shoulder to cry on.  Your cookie supplier.  I’ll be here to listen.  I’ll be here for advice when you want it.  but mostly, I’ll be here for hugs.  The world is a rough place.

I’m sorry.