It happened. I knew someday it would, and it has. Totally inevitable and only a matter of time.
Over the weekend, Lily found out about a classmate’s birthday party that she wasn’t invited to.
Now, the girl isn’t in her class, and it’s totally fine not to invite each and every girl in the first grade. Of course. Maybe there was a size limitation. Maybe the invitation got lost in the mail. Maybe this girl doesn’t like Lily as much as Lily likes her. All possible and none the end of the world. At all.
But to a six year old? It was shattering.
Jeff’s solution to this was to take Lily out for pancakes during the party, which while sweet seems like a sure-fire way to start a life-time long issue with emotional eating. Let’s stuff our feelings into puddles of maple syrup, shall we?
All of the parties I didn’t get invited to as a kid came flooding back. The junior prom to which I had no date, the weekend parties that I spent thinking about while I sat at home or babysat. It didn’t take much to remember how much the feeling sucks. And, I’d argue that it feels even worse when it happens to your baby. But, as much as I remember the crappy feeling, I just can’t remember what I wish my parents would have done.
She was over this particular party pretty fast, but I know it’s only just beginning. With three kids, we have years and years of heartbreak and hurt feelings ahead of us and I’m just not sure how to deal with it. Reason with them? Cry with them? Bash the other kid? Take them to Toys R Us every time they get left out? Is there anything we can do?
To think I thought the toddler phase was rough.