I'm not sure what I expected it would be like to have a six-year-old daughter. If I really think about it, I guess I anticipated lots of giggling, and silliness, and maybe some moodiness. I figured there would be lots of laughter, and some occasional tears. I figured she would love her teachers, and her friends, and still love, and actually like, her parents, too. I thought she'd probably still be into dolls--at least some of the time-and that she'd still love to ride her bike, and roller skate, and read.
For the most part, I'd have to say that having a six-year-old is pretty much what I expected. But once in a while, something happens that causes me to think, "Huh. I didn't really think we would be dealing with this...at least not yet". I felt that way when I found out that N had been the target of an aspiring bully on the bus last year, in kindergarten. I sometimes feel that way, to a much lesser degree, when she wants to watch TV shows that feature teenagers, instead of the cartoons that I plan on making her watch until she's seventeen. And I have felt that way the few times that she had attempted to roll her eyes at me. I say attempted because, at six, she doesn't really have the eye rolling thing down yet. I think maybe the muscles required for good eye rolling don't develop until puberty, so she has a few years yet before she reaches peak eye rolling age. I have discovered, however, that the attitude required for eye rolling develops at age six. Fortunately for all concerned, it does not show itself often.
Recently, I had another "I didn't think we'd be dealing with this just yet" moment. N likes to draw and color, and most days in her folder, she brings home approximately thirty-seven drawings that she has done that day at school. Sometimes she will also have drawings that her friends have made for her--usually pictures of fairies, and princesses, or of N and her friends pretending to be fairies at recess, complete with magic wands and wings. Recently, she's been bringing home pictures that a friend, T, has been drawing for her. T is a boy. T's pictures aren't of fairies, or princesses, or of all their friends playing together. T's pictures are of just he and N. And they don't have fairy wands. They have hearts. And they aren't flying, they are holding hands. I don't make a big deal out of these pictures, but after the sixth or seventh such picture arrived, I did start saving them. In case I need them as evidence when I get a restraining order.
As I was driving N home from school the other day, she was telling me what had happened that day, and she said "Oh, mom, guess what T said today? He said he is in love with me." As you might imagine, several thoughts ran through my head upon hearing this, some of which were along the lines of:
Aw, how cute.
Of course he's in love with you. How could he not be?
What a sweet, sensitive boy, not afraid to express his feelings.
Other thoughts were more along the lines of this:
Obviously T watches too much television.
What six year old says he's in love with someone?
Whatever happened to boys thinking that girls had cooties? I miss that.
And then, there were thoughts like these:
I am calling T's mother, and telling her to stop letting her son watch so much television.
I am calling T, and telling him he needs to stay away from my daughter.
I am calling the teacher/principal/superintendent. Obviously, they all need to know about this.
I am getting a retraining order.
Oh, stop judging me. I'm kidding about those last few. Mostly. Well, some of them, anyway. I wouldn't really get a restraining order. I'm pretty sure they won't issue one for a six-year-old. And if some of those other, possibly irrational thoughts did enter my head, of course I wouldn't act on them. Just yet.
I did manage not to say any of these things out loud. Nor did I launch into a lecture about how six-year-old boys should not be declaring that they are in love with six-year-old girls. Yes, I realize that would have been overkill, which is why I did not say it. I realize that six-year-olds can have crushes, and that this is really not a big deal. It's kind of cute, even. I think. See, that's the part I'm not really sure about. It is cute, because they are only six. The part of me that thinks it's cute wants to save the pictures, along with this story, and laugh about it with N when she's seventeen.
There's another part of me, though, that doesn't want to make this seem too cute. It's the same part of me that cringes when an adult makes a "joke" to a six year old about their "boyfriend". It's the part of me that wonders, if we send the message that it's cute to have someone be in love with you at six, will that somehow lead to it being acceptable for someone to be in love with you at say, twelve? Or, further down the road, will it lead to the belief that it's necessary to have someone be in love with you at, say, sixteen, or eighteen? It's the same part of me that thinks that, when it comes to six-year-old, or nine-year-old, or twelve-year-old girls, we should probably just stick to talking about reading and writing, math and science, music and dancing, friendships and soccer--and just leave words like "boyfriend" and "in love with you" out of it completely. That's the part of me that wants a restraining order.
But, of course, if I make a big deal out of this, that's likely to be bad in its own way. So, with great restraint, I calmly ask N what she said when T told her he was in love with her.
She shrugged and said "I don't remember." And then, after a minute, "Mom?"
I'm not sure it's accurate that she doesn't remember, and I wonder what she's going to ask me. Is this going to lead to a discussion about what it means to be in love? I'm really hoping not. Or what you can say if someone says something that makes you uncomfortable? Easy--tell them to stop, or you will get a restraining order. Maybe she's going to ask me if anyone told me that they were in love with me when I was in first grade. Uh, no. Girls still had cooties back then.Whatever it is, I will answer her honestly. I've think I've got this covered.
"I just laughed and walked away. What do we have for a snack?"
Huh. I think she's got this covered.
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