Mean girls

I have had numerous conversations with C about being nice to others, how important it is to always say things that would make people feel happy instead of sad, and how it makes us feel when others say unkind things to us. These conversations have come about because either she has been mean to other kids, or because the neighbor girls across the street have been mean to her. I have recounted to her of how sad and lonely I was in the 1st and 2nd grade because my classmates made fun of me. She has been very interested in these tales and has asked many follow up questions such as what they would say, why, and specifically who would say them.

C has a stuffed animal that was named after the orange tabby cat that we used to have. I bought it for her the night before we had to put our beloved Meow to sleep three years ago. Recently C saw fit to rename her stuffed animal. The new name is not terribly pleasing to me.


The picture is of C and her favorite stuffed animal, Stacy Rose. That's right, she gave it the first and last name of my childhood tormentor - the ringleader, no less. It doesn't matter that Stacy and I made peace with one another and, while we never became great friends, we got along just fine all the way through high school. C doesn't know that part. All she knows is that this is the girl who made me cry and tell my mother that all I really wanted for my birthday was to have a friend. Nice. I guess we have some more work to do on learning empathy.