Making Space to be Baffled

and for hearts to hurt

A hand on the chest.  A shove backwards.  A firm “no.”  My son was trying to sit down on the bus seat with his best friend on the way to school.  His best friend didn’t want him nearby.  He had no choice but to choose a different seat.  They both sat alone.

Two days earlier, on only the second day of school, something similar happened.  My son tried to join his best friend in the bus seat, but the friend looked at him and said, “You’re weird” and wouldn’t let him sit down.

My heart broke into a thousand pieces when I heard the story.  I had an instant gut ache that lasted all night and into the next day.  The Momma Bear in me was clawing to come out.  I hugged him.  We tried to talk through where this was coming from.  This friend was in his homeroom last year and they were inseparable. They live in our neighborhood.  They were back and forth at each other’s houses all summer long. They both claimed to be BFF’s and had a special goodbye with complicated hand motions that ended in a chest bump.  

We are both baffled. My son can’t think of anything that happened or went sideways the last time they played.  Or, as they say now, had a hang.  As I hugged him I said the comment was mean and shouldn’t have been said.

The next day at school, my son’s teacher had everyone write goals for themselves for the year and my son’s goal, as written in his planner that I needed to sign off on, was “to not be weird.”  And Friday night as we prayed before bed, as I listened to him talk to God and thank God for this and that, he asked God to help him not be weird.  My heart broke again. I let him finish, we said the Amen, I blessed him on the forehead as I always do, and then put a hard stop to this.

I sat up and leaned close to his face in the dark and spoke with ferocity, “Listen to me.  You are not weird.  You can annoy people sometimes, and we know that.  You’re working on that.  But you are not weird.  I would tell you if you were, okay?” He nodded. I gave him a big kiss, settling back down to snuggle.

I don’t know if it will work.  I don’t know how much my words, hugs, and reassurance will have weight over the cruel words of a friend. I am realizing that at 9 years old, we are entering tough years where I can’t fix everything and hearts will hurt and friends will be prioritized over family and the weight of what they say and do and think will matter greatly.  It’s awfully unsettling.

But if you knew my son, you would know I told him the truth in that moment. He is bright-eyed, happy, outgoing, fun, full of joy and zest.  He has a big heart and feels deeply for others.  He loves to join in and be part of things.  He is highly likeable and has a lot of friends.  He has annoying habits and comes with a lot of energy.  But he is not weird.  At least no more than any of us are.

We know the family so I decided to reach out to the mom over text after the second incident on the bus, with the chest shove and “no.”  I figured I had waited a few days and the weird comment wasn’t just a joke or an off day for her son.  It seemed the best place to start.  Afterall, I hadn’t gone Momma Bear on the son or the family on the first day.  I had tapped into my rational brain and tried to strategize about letting it pass and working itself out on the playground with time versus sweetening the pot and inviting the friend to go to Valleyfair Amusement Park with us in a couple weeks on the “Bring a Friend” pass we had earned to see if a day of fun could get them back on track.  But starting with sharing information with the other mom and seeing what she knew seemed the best first course of action.

She seemed to be in the dark. I asked if she knew what was up with the boys and to please share if she knew something, saying what I knew about the bus and how my son is sad and I am too.  She responded with a sad face and said she’ll talk to her son. No apology for the incidents as reported but she did say her son was having a hard week because he doesn’t have any friends in his class. Mine doesn’t either—he was surprised how few he knew this year in his homeroom. Even though he’s been there since kindergarten, it’s a big school, with many sections in each grade.  But if this is true for the friend, wouldn’t the bus be a place he’d want to connect with someone familiar, fun, and safe?  

I haven’t heard anything more. We may not get an answer.  There may not be a “thing” that went down. There could be just a strange and sudden turn off for one person in the relationship.  A deciding that my son is no longer the one he wants to be seen with, or invest time in.  Maybe somebody else said something about my son to the friend and is influencing him.  I don’t know.  It may be something that always baffles us, perhaps me more than my son because it was such a sudden, icy wall with no apparent fight. The odd thing is I predicted to the friend’s mom earlier this summer that the boys will probably drift apart with time because her son is so athletic and into sports and mine is simply not.  She poo-poohed it.  But I know new friend circles are waiting with those we have common interests in and in our culture, sports rule.  But I didn’t see THIS coming.  And I thought boys were supposed to be easier than girls to raise.

So for now I’m Making Space to feel baffled. And very sad. It’s hard to not have answers and it’s hard to see him hurt. It’s true that when you have children, your heart is always walking out there in the world, taking on their hurts and disappointments.  My son seems to be mostly okay and is not dwelling. When we talked after the second incident, he said he knows he needs to be strong.  He still wants to work it out with his friend and wants me to extend the Valleyfair invitation to him. He’s keeping himself open.  I admire that attitude, that bigness in him, and love him so incredibly much.

Have you been baffled by a friend’s behavior, or had to watch your children suffer meanness by peers? Leave a comment on what happened or tips on how you supported them.