Maybe there’s a reason “horrors” was Elphaba’s first word…
Punkin’ Pie decided that, for her tenth birthday celebration, she wanted to have a sleep-over party. She and I sat down at the computer and composed invitations, printed them out on pretty paper, and she brought them to school to give to three girls in her grade.
I’ve yet to hear back from any of them as to whether or not they’re planning on coming. The problem, as Punkin’ Pie has hinted, but hasn’t come outright and said, is that the three girls she invited are part of a clique to which she is not privy, and she wants in.
We’re horrified at the thought that none of these girls is going to RSVP in the positive. While we certainly don’t want to coerce any of the kids into coming, we would really like to know sooner rather than later, so we can come up with a really great Plan B (any suggestions?) and steel ourselves for the HUGE lesson this is going to be for Punkin’.
All of this is bringing up a lot of really terrible memories of my own pre-teen years. How did we ever survive?! Like Punkin’, I was smart and kind and funny and pretty, but I wasn’t a member of the “cool” kids club and, unlike Punkin’, I lacked a stable home life, so my confidence was in the crapper. It’s probably just that she hasn’t quite found her “place” yet, and that she’ll find a group of friends when she cycles into the middle school next year, but this is still going to be a really hard thing to get over in the short term.
I wonder; is it harder on her, or on me?