Be Nice

I adore children. I really do. But when other kids pick on yours, it takes all restraint to keep from pushing them down yourself. Katie had a rough day at the playroom at church yesterday. There was only one other family while we were there. Like me, they had a baby in a car seat and a boy who looked to be about 3. The family spoke English from time to time but seemed to speak another language almost exclusively to the boy. It sounded like a Russian accent, but I'm no linguist.

Katie only wants to find a baby doll and push it around in a toy stroller by herself, but the playroom is usually so busy with other kids she has to wait to play with one (There are only two there.). When I say "wait," I mean that she finds whoever has a doll and stalks him or her until the doll is put down, at which time Katie swoops in and claims the doll. Well, yesterday there was no competition, so she proudly scooped up a doll in each arm and brought them to me, saying, "I got TWO babies, Mommy!" She found a plastic shopping cart and secured her two plastic babies in the child seat up front and began a stroll around the playroom, happy to have hit the toy jackpot.

That's when the boy comes in, as little boys do. He quickly gained an interest in one of the dolls, snatching it out of the cart and parading it around in plain view in front of a very put out Katie.

"That's mines!" she protested.

"Katie," I answered. "We need to share. Let him have one of the dolls."

The boy's mother calmly said something to him in their language, and he left with the doll tucked under his arm. He soon returned to antagonize Katie - a trend that would go on for the rest of our time in the playroom. The boy followed her everywhere, grabbing toys she showed interest in and telling her she couldn't have them. At one point inside the play house, Katie pointed to the door and like a fuming house wife said, "Get out!"

I couldn't help but laugh. But their next exchange really bothered me.

The church has a big play area called Noah's Ark with tunnels to climb through and a tall tube slide. Katie loves it, but she's never gathered the courage to come down the slide on her own. She's working on it, though. She scales the cargo net to the top level - this time, with a baby doll in tow - and perches herself at the top of the slide while other kids squeeze by her to come down. I station myself at the bottom of the slide and try to coax her down. This time, the little boy decided he was taking Katie with him. He gave her a push - a hard push. She screamed the whole way down, with the baby's plastic head banging the tube along the way. By the time she reached the blue mat at the bottom of the slide, she was already red faced and angry.

"Are you OK?" I asked, picking her up and trying to calm her.

But it was clear Katie didn't want my pity, wriggling out of my arms. She was mad and held nothing back at the boy, who was getting a verbal thrashing in his native tongue from his mother across the room. Getting to her feet, Katie shouted at him, "I go down the slide!" as she marched back into Noah's ark with her baby still clutched in her hot little hand.

I thought this was a good time to make our exit. We cleaned up the toys and made our way out of the playroom, with me pushing Adam in the stroller and Katie following on foot through the parking lot. As usual, I told Katie as we left the building that we were about to walk through a parking lot and if she was going to walk instead of ride in the double stroller, she would have to stay next to me.

"Yes, Mommy," she said, finally calm.

But, as is typical, halfway to our car I looked back and Katie had stopped, flashing me a mischievous look that says, "I'm not right next to you. What are you going to do about it?"

"Katie, let's go," I said to no avail.

I got nothing in return but that look. She wouldn't budge, so I locked the wheels on the stroller and picked her up to move her across the parking lot.

"Be nice!" she shouted. "Be nice to Katie!"

I couldn't help but laugh. I guess she'd had enough of being pushed around by someone bigger than her. A nap was definitely in order - for both of us.