Boy crazy

It all started when the baby went to preschool last year in the two year old class. There were six kids in her class, four boys and two girls. She and the other girl bonded and began a battle with the boys who were said to be "big meanies." After that, the baby no longer liked boys, violently sometimes. I spent the remainder of the school year wondering if she will have a note in her backpack when I picked her stating she had attacked one of her classmates (always a boy).

This year in the weeks leading up to three year old preschool, I stressed the importance of being nice to everyone in her class. She told me she would be nice to the girls so I tried a different tactic. I asked her to not hit anyone to which responded, "I won't hit anybody Mommy, just boys." My last plea was the morning of school. I dropped her off and hoped for the best.

I was thrilled when I picked her up and the first thing she said to me was "I didn't hit any of my friends today!" I let out a sigh of relief and though "one day down." She did inform me that the big boy had pushed her down and she hurt her knee. Sure enough, her knee was scraped and she was lightly limping on it. I asked her if he had pushed her or if it had been an accident. She said she didn't know. I began formulating my speech for the trip to school the next morning explaining that she should not take revenge on this boy and if he hurt her on purpose she should ask him to stop and not hurt back.

I gave her my speech in the car and she just said "Okay Mommy" and got out of the car. It was the best I could do. When I picked her up she was very quiet. I kept asking her questions and she merely grunted or gave me a short answer. Finally asked her what happened. She was silent a moment and then dropped her head and said "I played with a boy." Not what I expected her to say at all. I asked her who and she just said the big boy. I asked her why and she said he was nice to her. I told her it was okay to play with kids who were nice to her, even if they were boys.

After two weeks of preschool this Big Boy is her new best friend. The thing I find humorous is the boys father is someone I graduated with twenty years ago. At least she didn't beat the boy up because I suspect now that it was an accident that he pushed her down.

To finish it all off I asked her if she was a boy or a girl. For nearly the entire year of preschool last year she would say a boy, even though she knew she was a girl. I asked her yesterday if she was a boy or a girl and she just smiled and replied "I'm a princess" and skipped off down the hall.