I am so full of crap. Women aren’t my bread and butter. Bread and butter implies simplicity. There’s nothing simple about women. I’m 44 and still baffled by them. I’ve learned to move among them and act like one of the tribe, but the intricacies of female relationships confound me. And they require a lot of maintenance. I’m not good at maintenance. Just ask my cleaner and gardener.
Yesterday, I volunteered at a school band training day. Yep, Sunday morning, 8.30am. Yerk. But I had a lovely chat with some of the school mums. Easy, I’ve had years of practice at it. Sprog 1, on the other hand, was me at age 8. Totally clueless. She sat by herself, looking all hunched and emo on a bench. I shoved her towards a group of girls at just the wrong moment, as they bolted off for a game of tip. Sprog 1 stood frozen and socially awkward, incapable of spontaneously joining the game. I was so sad for her, my little mini-me. I ached for this child who isn’t a natural at the relationship thing and will spend years stumbling through life, not understanding the ropes.
As I trudged around the supermarket after volunteering duty ended – bulk fun day – I tried to recall my own primary school awkwardness. I got by, I made a few friends, who I still have today. Admittedly, we only see each other once in a blue moon despite living only 2 hours apart (yep, totally crap at maintenance). When I got home, I flicked through the photo albums of my primary years. I was always alone or with my little sister in shots, never with friends. Every photo of my sister, on the other hand, includes a gang of mates and/or gawky me. I remember spending my lunchtimes in the library (ditto for Sprog 1) or attempting to hypnotise my sister’s friends (younger and eager to please, they obligingly pretended to be hypnotised monkeys and climb trees, god bless them). I don’t recall being unhappy or lonely. I was aware that I wasn’t popular. I occasionally thought it would be nice to be popular. But generally, I was resilient. My glass was half full, it wasn’t half empty. Life was filled with potential. I just have to hope Sprog 1 feels the same way, and make sure she knows I’m there for her when she feels a bit wobbly.
housegoeshome 
It’s so hard watching your kids go through stuff (particularly when you know it comes from your dodgy genes). My youngest has struggled to make friends in primary, although finally in year 6 she is starting to get some invites to parties and sleepovers and seems to have a couple of girls she hangs around with (but it’s often up and down, today you are my friend, tomorrow you are not). I didn’t really have a best friend in primary, always a little bit on the outer. I remember lunchtimes on my own a lot. Being quiet and shy sux really. My eldest is like your sister, has had a great group of friends for years, life of the party, too many invites to accept all of them. I think that makes it even harder. But we survived and somehow our kids will too. It was in highschool I found my best mates, who are still friends today. I’m hoping things improve for my youngest too and like I said I’m seeing some improvement now in year 6.
Ah Shambolic, your words always make me feel so calm and zen. Thank you.
I was in the school band. Not the cool jazz band, the concert band. I was a band geek and proud. Everyone has their own primary school woes, even the ‘Heathers.’
Yeah, I need to stop worrying about it so much.