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Girls are whiners

September 9, 2009



“That little girl is dumping sand on my pile of sand where I already have enough and don’t want anymore and she won’t listen when I tell her no!”

Guess who “that little girl was”? Sofia. She thought she was helping. The 6 year old didn’t care. Thankfully the mom is a normal mom (as most are here within the apartment community) and told her six year old to go play.

“But I can’t when that little girl is ruining my play!” Her comment was ignored by her mother.

But I couldn’t ignore it and suddenly I started paying attention to the little group in front of me. There were six of them, Sofia being the youngest. There was the 6 year old girl, a 6 year old boy, a 4 year old boy, and two other girls who must have been between 3 and 4. (I know the boy’s ages because they told me two days ago when we were at the park again together. Kids love telling how old they are. It’s weird, but also helpful in that it give me gauges of behavior to come.) At some point all three of the girls had whined at Sofia for trying to give them sand. They had their own imagination game going on and there was no room for Sofia. And allow me to inform you that only two of these girls were sisters. The other was separate. But the boys never said a word. They aren’t brothers either, but are cousins. Not when Sofia got in their way, not when she gave them sand or took sand from them. They seemed to have been educated in the simple fact that park sand is public and that you really have no domain over any of it.

Now, I do interfer when Sofia gets too rambunctious and throws sand or wipes it from the teeter-totter so violently that it might get in someone’s eye. I also tell her to get out of the middle if she has diliberately sat where someone else was playing peacefully. But other than that I don’t interfer. I laugh and smile a lot. And I make mental notes. Yesterday I made quite a few:

1) We need to have at least one boy. I have said in the past that I don’t want boys, but I think that girls quite possibly turn out to be prima-donna whiners when they don’t have brothers. Brothers even it out. And they stand up to other boys trying to touch their sisters in the later years.

2) If I hear my children whining on the playground for no reason I will interfer by telling them to either learn to play along with everyone or go home. I hate whiners. HATE THEM. No one wants to be around whiners. I could see on the oder boy’s face yesterday that even he was annoyed by the 6 year old girl. In the end she was interrupting the imaginary play just to go complain, pout and whine only to then want to be let back in a few minutes laters. “Girls,” I could see him sighing in his head.

I like being a girl, don’t get me wrong. Boys, in the end, are strange with strange body parts and weird fascination to watch second league soccer or number 34 and number 21 of the tennis world play when there are better things in life to do. But in the end they even things out. They are calmer and more pliable and don’t scream as much and can teach girls a thing or two of “just letting it go”. Of course there are sissy boys out there. A couple live right next to us. It’s the mom’s fault though. She’s one of those Hovermoms. Ugh.

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