“How do I do it, Mama?” she asked. Her voice was smaller than usual, pulled into the sea by the riptide. I stared down at her, at the sandy little hand clutching mine. I didn’t have an answer. It was one of the few questions I felt so ill-equipped to answer that I almost explained what “ill-equipped” meant so that she’d ask her daddy.
“I like my sister and everything, but I really want to play with kids my own age. Please show me how to meet new friends. Please?”
I tried to think of the last time I went up to someone and introduced myself because I wanted to be their friend. I drew a blank. “Well, how do you do it at school?”
“That’s easy. We go around and everyone says their name and says ‘hi’ and so everyone is just friends. But we’re not at school. And I asked that girl over there if I could play with her and she just looked away.”
“That’s okay, baby. She might not have even heard you. It’s hard to hear over the ocean.” I dipped our sandy hands into the water and gazed down the shoreline at the week ahead of us. Two days into our vacation and she was already itching to play with someone else. The energizing needs of the extrovert, something I vaguely remembered feeling as a child. I looked back at her sister who played contentedly alone in the sand. THAT I understood, but of course she didn’t need any help.
“Do you see anyone?” ONE asked.
I didn’t. And part of me was relieved. Didn’t she understand me? Didn’t she know there wasn’t a worse person in the world to ask this of? I closed my eyes and listened to the waves. And in that moment I realized that she didn’t know that part of me yet. She had no idea how hard it was for me to meet new people and maintain conversations. In her 6-year-old eyes I was still the person who could help. I could still do anything.
I see everyone I meet as a potential friend. I never hesitate to be the first to start a conversation. I’d scoffed when the social worker told me to repeat that to myself for a week. It was kind of ridiculous, as was the idea of seeing a therapist. But when I learned I was living my life in fear, I knew I had a choice. I could keep living the way I was, or I could ditch the pride and get help. It was all about choices. Just like now. I could send her to her daddy, or I could figure out how to make her a friend. Everyone is a potential friend. Everyone is a potential friend. Everyone is a potential friend…
I gazed over at the other side of the beach. Triplets who looked about 7-years-old raced to the water.
“C’mon, Pea!” I said, tugging her toward our three-in-one shot.
“I’m nervous, Mama.”
“Me too. But what’s the worst that could happen? If they don’t want to play, we move on to the next kids. Look at how many kids are on the beach. Lots of new friends out there.”
We approached the girls and I made the introductions. We sat with them at the water’s edge for about ten minutes. ONE flittered about, trying to figure out their dynamic, and I played wingman. Finally, and I’ll be honest I have no idea what happened, ONE got them to their feet and the four of them raced off to the toys, and then into the ocean. My job was done. I joined TWO in the quiet of the sand and watched ONE. TWO watched also.
The next day ONE made another new friend. She still wanted me to start the introductions, but this time she didn’t wait as long to take over. TWO watched them laugh and build drizzle castles for about thirty minutes, and then decided that she was no longer content to play by herself. She wanted a friend her own age, too. And before I could respond, ONE took her little sister by the hand and marched her up the beach to find her a friend. She didn’t even ask me to come along.
Lots of new friends out there.
For all the bad things I’ve done as a mom, and all the things I’ve realized about myself these last few months, it was awesome to own part of that moment. It was also unbelievably freeing to understand that it’s truly never too late to change. And if a teeny, tiny change like that could have an impact, imagine what the big changes could accomplish?
FOR MORE HAPPY CLICHÉS—> ENTER HERE
©2011 CEK. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
WANT SOME DAILY AFFIRMATION THAT YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY BAD MOMMY OUT THERE? FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER, OR COME VENT ON FACEBOOK. WE’LL BAD-MOMMY IT TOGETHER.
{ 15 comments }
I completely agree — it’s never too late to change. It’s the willingness to change that’s hard. My son thinks of the world as potential friends. It scares me but it’s exactly who I’d like to be. Thanks for the reminder.
I love you. And everything about this post. Wish I was there in the sand with you and TWO, watching ONE navigate the world.
How refreshing to read a post by someone who doesn’t feel ashamed to admit how hard it is to make new friends as an adult. I love my intimate circle of friends and do not enjoy the process of getting to know a lot of new people. I’m friendly, sure, but just not that outgoing type. My boss/principal keeps telling me that I need to be “more friendly” but it’s hard when it goes against everything that is within you! She makes me feel bad about myself for not changing who I am. Thank you! I’m so glad that ONE and TWO both made friends. So sweet!
Oh how I love this! It makes me so happy to know I’m not the only one.
There’s a little girl who lives diagonally across the street from us that is the same age as my daughter. She’s been asking to go play with her. I don’t know what came over me because it is totally out of character, but as we got out of the car one day, they were just getting home too, I grabbed my girl by the hand and marched us right over there to meet. (How bad is it that I hardly know some of my neighbors!) I shocked myself, but I’m glad I did it for the simple reason that my daughter didn’t see any fear in what we did, although half way there I started to panic. LOL
I just inquired about joining a MOMs Club in my town. I have a playdate to attend at a complete strangers house with my kids. I’ll know no one. I’m scared to death, but sometimes we need to force ourselves out of our comfort zone and just do it, for our kids. All I can think about is how incredible this mom gig is. That courage would have never emerged had I not had the little buggers, and I’d still be that shy little girl playing alone on the beach…at 30-something. You’re so right..it’s never too late. :)
Fantastic post!
As a child, I was painfully shy and making friends was difficult. My 6y/o is completely the opposite — he goes right up to kids in parks and begins playing, asks to play, introduces himself and asks what the other child’s name is. It’s so refreshing to see his fearlessness and socializing skills.
I’m so glad ONE and TWO got some new friends to play with =D
There’s a philosophy that says our children choose us as their parents to teach us things. I know mine often push me out of my comfort zone. Amazing what they can force us to learn! Lovely story – thanks for sharing!
I love this post! Having children will make you stop and look at yourself – and make you put yourself outside of comfort zone. A LOT.
And you can also probably tell that I’m rather shy myself – since it’s not often that I pop up with a comment! LOL.
I’m proud of you. . .and ONE and TWO, as well!
People can and do change all the time. Congrats on your ah-hah moment. The world is smiling down on you.
That made me happy.
Wonderful. Just wonderful. I’m pretty sure that it’s the little acts of bravery (that feel huge inside, but barely show up to the world) that really matter in life.
I am really good at making 4- and 10-year-old friends. Friends over the age of 21? Not so much. Friends my own age? Even harder.
Sounds like ONE will not have our problems, and TWO is in good hands with her.
YEA YOU!
I know that this isn’t a profound post… but that is what I felt… so again, YEA YOU!! (and ONE too!!)
Good for you…It is amazing what we are willing to do to help our children. So proud of you (and ONE and TWO!) for stepping outside of your comfort zone…
LOVE! Gosh, I wouldn’t know the answer to that question either. You did good, momma! I’m such a bad mommy that I let them figure it out on their own. EEEK! I do talk to them later about why they don’t play with soandso or how it went. I am fascinated about how that dynamic works. I’ve always found myself at a loss when trying to understand friendship dynamics.
See, this is awesome because now you’ve done it so I don’t have to.
Right? I don’t have to go out on a limb to teach my kid to do it when neither of us wants to? I mean, he probably wants to, but…aw, crud. There you go making me do stuff again.