So yesterday afternoon when Spence gets home from school, we have our conversation about how his day went. He tells me what specials he had and who got in trouble in class and then he tells me that one part of his day was bad. I asked him what happened and he said that some kids were making fun of him and calling him names. With full Mama Bear mode coming out, I asked what happened exactly.
"Some kids called me Mr. Weird Teeth because I lost that tooth so long ago and the new one hasn't come in yet."
(This is the part of the story where my rage was now bubbling over, crazed by the fact that someone would dare say something rude to my child, BUT, wanting to make this a teaching moment for Spencer, I pushed down my inner postal worker and said this:)
"How did that make you feel honey?"
"Not very good."
"You know what I think? I think that when someone says something mean to someone else, it's because they don't like something about themself, and so to feel better, they try to make others feel as bad as they do."
"You mean like when you're reading magazines and you don't like the girls in them because they're all so skinny?"
So maybe what I've been modeling isn't exactly right, but he seemed to get what I was trying to say and I think it made him feel better.
Nothing makes me ache like someone being mean to my children. I know it's all part of school and growing up, but I hate it.