the older sister always knows the games

The other day Clark had his very first playdate without a parent- his friend Cole from school - a very exciting thing. Frances has, on average, 2 playdates a week, and has for about a year, but she did not have one the day of Clark's. On the way home from school she wailed, it's not fair it's not fair! My. The drama.

When Cole got here Frances was immediately upon them. Cole you stand here, and Clark you stand here, and this is what we're going to do. After a few minutes I called her into the kitchen to help me make sandwiches. "But Mommy, they NEED me," she said. "What do they need you for?" I asked. "They need me because I know all the games and they don't," she said. "You don't think they can think of things to play on their own?" I said. "NO! Okay, I'll help with the sandwiches, but I'll listen for them and if they call me or if they get hurt or if they argue, I'll go to them."

I wish I could include inflection here in the retelling.

The next day I asked Clark about it, asked if he would have liked to play with Cole more by himself, and he said no. "I like Sissy there," he said. "It's like a playdate with her." Yes, yes it is. 

Frances in charge

Frances: "Pretend I'm a princess and you've never met me, and this is a real duckling. I mean, pretend you have met me before, but you've never seen this duckling, and he's real. Pretend you can only hear the duckling, you can't see him, and he surprises you. Pretend I'm a real princess, and I'm your sister, and this duckling is my pet."

A separate subject.
To my displeasure, Frances has lately been obsessed with American Girl Dolls. Do you know what these things are? They are overpriced and absurd, the hot thing now for at least the last decade. Because of their expense, they seem to be a sort of status symbol among girls, though Frances can't know that yet at 4, can she? They promote consumerism at its height, providing a catalogue carrying any kind of accessory you can imagine. The want is bottomless. I ended up on the American Girl Doll mailing list somehow, and when the catalogues come I rush them to the recycling before Frances can see them. Over Christmas, however, Frances got ahold of one and perused it at leisure with her grandmother. Oh well. So now an American Girl Doll is the goal.

Our eight year old neighbor got one, and she told Frances you have to be eight before you can get one, and I appreciated that. So I had my line: When you're eight, we can talk about it. Then Frances went to another friend's house for a playdate and at the end, while I was gathering up her shoes and coat, she appeared with Bitty Baby Twins, the American Girl Doll for the younger set which costs $100, two of them off all things, naked. "Maia said I could keep them," she said. Hm. I was saved by Maia's father, who said that "actually, Maia was given those by a special friend, and they need to be here when she comes to visit." Maia doesn't like dolls at all, and she was perfectly happy to hand Frances both dolls and their suitcases overflowing with pajamas and bunny slippers and blankies and several other outfits. "You can borrow them, though," said her dad. I tried to insist that we had enough doll clothes already and we'd just take the dolls, but in the end it all came with us.

We've since returned all of that, and at another playdate with a different girl, Frances came home with a full size American Girl Doll. Holy crap! How did she do that? She said she wanted one, and here one came. I have to say, she did seem to love it more than any other doll. She brought it to the grocery, to the library, and she buckled her securely in the seat beside her in the car. And, average sucker mom that I am, I did love seeing her joy with that doll. It's gone back now to its owner. This morning Frances asked how long it is til christmas because she knows what she wants to ask santa for. Her list was impressive; two specific American Girl Dolls, a bike for one, mugs and drinks and clothes, a pet for the other. She drew this picture to illustrate.

Much as I hate them, I wonder if she'll end up with one, and before she's eight. She certainly knows what she wants and does whatever it takes to get it. It's rather impressive. 

compassion

Thank god, thank earth, and all that is; it is finally, finally, FINALLY spring. Horrible, that's what that was, the six weeks before. Maybe that's why everyone here hates the winter snow so much - they all know what's coming after.

I love the snow up here in the snowbelt. Though, to be fair, I have the ideal set up. I would probably not love it as much if I a) didn't have a garage and was forever brushing and scraping my car so I could b) go to work. That I am a stay-at-home-mom means when it's really painfully cold and deep, I just don't go out in it. It's one of the perks. Perhaps the perk, come to think of it. So I get to enjoy the snow when I want to. (In case anyone cares, I believe there are only two things you must do to enjoy the snow here. 1) get a really good coat (you'd never believe the number of fools walking around here in hoodies), and 2) go out in it. You don't even have to ski or anything; just layer up and go for a walk. The world coated in white is an amazing one.)

But now we're actually done with the snow. Done! I had truly begun to wonder if it was going to get warm again. I thought perhaps it would stay in the 40s all summer until the snow started up again in the fall. You should see the pink blooming trees in my yard.

So. Tuesday when I went to pick up Frances from school, she skipped to me singing, "playdate! playdate!" as she always does. Previously I'd made a policy not to give in to spur of the moment playdate requests, but I apparently forgot. She went home with her friend Maia, and Clark and I went home and ate lunch then took a snuggly nap on the couch.

When we got to Maia's house to pick her up, she and Maia were playing in the back of the backyard. They ignored me as long as they could, and before she'd even said hello to me I heard her say to Maia, "I don't like Clark." Frances was very difficult about leaving, as she often is, and when we got home she was as mean to Clark as I've seen her be. Wouldn't let him touch her things, grabbed things away from him, said how much she doesn't like him and how he's not good at playing, and then shoved him down. I didn't know what on earth was going on, and the end result of all of it was that I broke my no yelling streak. I was eight days in! Oh well.

After much crying and much lap sitting, she told me Maia said something really sharply to her at school and it made her cry, and then one of the boys was boasting about how great he was going to be, how he'd build skyscrapers and she wasn't going to do anything, he was so much better than her blah blah blah. That made her cry too. So she turned and did the same thing to her brother.

I don't know why I don't see this behavior when it's happening as a red flag that she is suffering in some way. If I could pause and address the suffering, rather than the behavior, everything would go a lot more smoothly.

Hopefully next time.

How confusing it must have been for her to have Maia be so mean but then want Frances to come to her house and play. And probably confusing for Maia too! To have these aggressive feelings toward someone you like... Emotions are a bizarre and unwieldy jungle to trek.

I hope I can help her, at least draw her a crude map of the paths I know to the other side.

I also think she was simply overstimulated, overexcited, exhausted. That's her temperament, her tendency, after all. It is spring - so suddenly - and she's probably playing harder (they play outside more than 2 hours at her school) Plus, it was on Tuesday, which is the first day of her school week, plus she stayed longer at Maia's than I would have liked. That's one lesson I had already learned (like the no-spur-of-the-moment-playdates lesson) but let slide: playdates should be two hours max. Any longer and she melts - usually moments after we pull away in the van.

My new rules, in order to avoid the above situation: no playdates on Tuesday, no playdates spur of the moment, no longer than 2 hours, and - the most important one - if she's acting uncharacteristically badly, then she is suffering because of something else. Gently, go gently. Try to wait. Listen.