Good Friend in a Small Package

Araceli decided that she and I should go to the "Ranch" in Park City to celebrate the end of second grade.  When Ari decides something is going to happen, it usually does.  Especially when it's a fabulous idea like a mini trip!  Ari and I and our little sidekick, Ptolemy, drove up Saturday afternoon and hit some major deals at the outlets before dining and snuggling up at the condo.  On the way up the canyon, we talked about school, recess, and 8-year-old stuff.  I heard lots of stories that started with, "There's this kid in my class who..."  (The kid version of Once Upon a Time.)  Then it was quiet.  I was thinking maybe we should have brought Freestone when Ari said, "Mom?  I'm a little lonely."   Later she said, "Mom, for some reason I feel like crying.  Can I call Freestone?"  I thought her acute case of loneliness was sweet.  She felt better after checking in with Freestone.

 Araceli is such a fun little girl.  She has grown a lot this school year, physically, mentally and emotionally.  The emotional part has been a fair amount of work.  The intense metamorphosis from child to adolescent is hard.  Butterflies have to fight their way out of the cocoon to build strength, and that is akin to what Araceli has been doing this year.  During our trip, I told Ari all my second grade stories.  I had a horrible teacher and a terrifying year that year.  As I told her about it, I realized second grade is a hard, transitional age.  When I was in second grade, we had to earn coins each week.  If we had enough by Friday, we could buy our way into a popcorn party.  I was very shy and I must have been a lazy student, because I never earned enough coins to attend the party.  Those of us who didn't qualify had to sit in our desks doing work during the popcorn party, which took place at the back of the classroom.  We weren't allowed to turn around in our desks to see the kids at the party.  We had to sit there working, smelling the buttery smell and listening to the popcorn jumping up out of the air popper.  I can relate to feeling lonely.  One of the loneliest and most humiliating experiences of second grade was when I had to sit under a 4-foot-high dunce cap in front of the whole class for fifteen minutes.  It was made of green butcher paper and was so big, it came down to my chin.  I remember the tears splashing our from under the dunce cap onto my pants as the class laughed at me.  The big, green, cone-shaped hat actually said "DUNCE."  That is a true story.  And don't even get me started on the sadistic game "Red Rover," which our teacher loved to make us play.  I was always chosen first to try to break through, because I never could, and kids always targeted me to run at, because I could never hang on and stop them.  My arms were always bruised and aching.

Thankfully, Araceli's second grade year was nothing like mine.  Her teacher is a wonderful, kind and compassionate woman and Araceli excelled in her class.  I am glad I had a miserable second grade year because I know what kids feel like when they are bullied by peers and teachers.  I can help my kids be on the lookout for children around them who are hurting.  In Park City, Ari and I saw a bunch of youngish teenage girls eating at Panda.  One of them, a cute girl, went into the bathroom.  Her friends, laughing, jumped up and ditched her, saying, "Hurry!  Let's leave her!"  When the girl came out of the bathroom and her table was empty, she was so sad and embarrassed.  Ari witnessed the whole thing and was upset and concerned.    We had a chance to talk about being a good friend and including everybody.  Ari has a loving nature, and I hope she grows into the kind of person who is a good friend to everyone.  She was a good friend to me this weekend, instigating a fun little getaway and being a nice little companion.  Thanks, Ari!