Mama Bear

Child development is one of my very favorite subjects. Between my-mother-the-baby-doctor, a much-beloved college course, and of course, medical school, I've had a lot of exposure to what should normally be expected at which ages.

Therefore, it baffles me that my five-year-old refused to wear his dark blue hoodie with dogs on it because his 'friends' at school would make fun of it. Was it babyish, you ask, and therefore deserving of derision? I reply with an emphatic no. Despite my natural (I think) desire to preserve my son's babyhood for as long as possible, I left behind (most) of the cutesy clothes a long time ago. If I hadn't, his firm personal preferences would have overwhelmed me quite effectively by wearing the same Spiderman shirt every day...

So I don't get it. I sort of blame older siblings. Developmentally, it's expected that preadolescents and adolescents become hyper-aware of how they look/act/etc. in comparison to other people. So it's entirely plausible that they are passing their insecurities down to their younger brothers and thereby bequeathing their teen angst to poor E. I blame parents, too, though. If I've heard one parent try to guide their child's preferences, gently or otherwise, I've heard a million. And done it myself, on occasion. (But my child's opinions are more firmly set in stone than my mother's, and therefore possess strength superior to that of my own.) I mean, how often do you hear parents saying "don't play with that, that's for babies," etc. And partly that's good, because we want our children to mature in their tastes. But they'll do that on their own, and too soon for most of us, so why put such pressure on them to grow up before they're ready?

My son is an avid Thomas the Tank Engine fan. We own several Thomas movies, a dozen or more Thomas books, and the only reason we don't have a ton of Thomas toys is because they're overpriced and I'm stingey. A couple of months ago, Thomas actually came to town, so of course we packed up and went off to see him. We had a great time, and managed to survive the inevitable visit to the sales tent without burning too big of a hole in our collective pocket. E even fell in love with a battery-operated Thomas set complete with waterfall, and managed to keep from whining too much about how much he wanted it.

Well, last night, while we were slaving over his Christmas list, the memory of that toy was brought to bear by the doggone Target and Walmart toy magazines. His excitement was immediately apparent, as he almost hyperventilated at being reunited with this long-desired (for a 5-year-old) toy. "I love Thomas, Mom!" he exclaimed, practically bouncing with joy. And then, a second later, he deflated like a sad, child-shaped balloon.

Upon gentle questioning, this is what I got: "My friends make fun of me because I like Thomas. I don't ever want them to come over to my house, because they'll make fun of my room." Single sad, sad tear.

Yeah, it's a learning opportunity, and of course I lectured my son on how he shouldn't care so much about other peoples' opinions. But he's five. And I was hyperdefensive of my siblings (who, let's face it, I really didn't like that much...kidding...).

So in closing: I love children, all children, without reservation. But you little cretins had better watch your backs.

(I really hope my son doesn't go around teasing other kids about the toys they like and the clothes they wear. Just because I don't witness it doesn't mean karma won't come around to bite me in the maternally overprotective rear.)