One night before bed, Cole was in a quieter mood than usual. Typically bedtime is full of laughter and manic behavior as he attempts to wind down from his day. Corralling him into his room takes a bit of maneuvering but once he gets under the covers and we begin reading, his body takes the hint and he settles down. This particular evening, Dave was traveling so I made the assumption that Cole was melancholy about his daddy's absence. I normally let him communicate that rather than prodding him when he isn't ready or willing. So I was startled when the real reason for his mood was revealed.
"Mom, I'm sad about something", he began. I replied "hey buddy what is making you feel this way?". He paused and look a bit apprehensive as if he was struggling with explaining what he felt. I didn't want to push so I just waited as he collected his thoughts "Mom, what do I do if no one wants to play with me?", he softly said. My initial internal reaction was an immediate ache in my heart. I wanted him to share more so I asked "did something happen at school today?". He nodded with tears glistening in his eyes and proceeded to tell me that "X said that he didn't like me today and didn't want to race cars down the hill. Then X said he didn't want to play in the fort and then X pushed me on the slide." Following this description he let out a defeated sigh. My momma bear instincts wanted to irrationally say how all of those interactions weren't very nice but my brain overode that with a reality check. So I tried my best to acknowledge how he was feeling and let him know that it was okay to feel sad about it; that sometimes friends need space or want to do something different than what we want to do and we can feel disappointed but need to go find someone else that wants to join us or try and ask them again in a little while.
Cole quietly listened as I tried to make sense of today's events for him. He looked me in the eyes as I finished and said "thanks mom, I just want to be friends with everyone". I nodded with tears filling my eyes. I kissed the top of his head and hugged him even closer. I walked out of his room with the painful realization that there would be many more of these conversations as the innocence of his past few years is fading fast and is being replaced with an increasingly acute awareness that life can be a not so nice place sometimes.
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