Arddun has entered a new phase where she doesn’t much care for little boys her age, so it was all rather charming when she made a new friend at the playground today… who happened to be a little older, a whole lot bigger, and a boy.
That is, until he got mad with Arddun. All because she obeyed my instructions and started putting on her shoes to leave the playground. So cross that she dared to leave his company without his consent, the little brute came over, yelled at Arddun, and then shoved her. Hard.
Now. The bully’s grandma did nothing but give a token squawk of reproof. The mothers around me tut-tutted. And all I could do was hold my daughter while she suddenly realised total and utter rejection for something that wasn’t even her fault. That fat kid (and he really was big) had hurt my daughter in a way she had never been hurt before at a playground. Her little feelings were crushed.
The mama bear in me was aching to growl at that kid so hard, he’d wet his pants for a month. A month. And grow up to be a gentleman for the rest of his life. With hopefully less sugar in his diet.
But when it’s someone else’s kid and it’s some other parent – or grandparent – who doesn’t think all this a big deal, it’s hard to rise to the occasion and show your daughter that you have her back, you really do. It’s hard not to feel like you’ve just let her down on a fundamental level.
So the next best thing, I thought, was perhaps to send her to martial arts classes. So the next boy who touches her inappropriately could get Miss Piggy-ed into the next week.
But then I watched this video, and I’m not sure that’s gonna cut the mustard in the self-defence stakes, either.