The Bucket

I was an adventurous young mother. I had always loved family camping as a kid and decided to join my two aunts and cousin on an all girls camping weekend with the company of my three angels. Although the campground was less than two hours away, summer road construction sent me on an hour long detour, putting our in-car travel time at 3.25 hours. The girls were hungry and tired, and I was quickly losing patience with the Disney sing-a-long CD they'd chosen to listen to over an hour ago. By the time we snaked our way to the BFE of the campground, I realized we were no where near a bathroom and little B was doing the dance of a lifetime. My quick-thinking aunt handed me an ice cream pail that they'd been given by the office (just in case nature called in the middle of the night). I grabbed the bucket and a tissue and handed it to O asking her to please take her sister behind the shrubs to tinkle while I unloaded the camping gear. She grudgingly obliged. A short while later, she returned with the bucket in tow asking me, "What now?" With my hands full and desperate to get the massive tent up before dark, I gritted my teeth and growled, "Just dump it out, please." She did. She returned again to explain that she couldn't "get it all out". The hair on the back of my neck stood tall. "Get WHAT out?" I asked. "The poop," she stated matter-of-factly. "WHAT?!!" I shouted. "Where did you dump it?" She pointed to the in-ground fire pit, of course. I was boiling over...and my lovely aunts, who seemed to find this ever so amusing, howled with laughter...until they realized that this was the same fire pit we would soon be cooking dinner over. I ran over to the fire pit to assess the damage. Yes, indeed, there were "logs on the fire". Using a small, and I mean VERY small, forked stick, I managed to roll the poo up the side of the pit and back into the bucket. Then I built a fire in the pit to sterilize and burn off any excess. With my aunts still in tears with laughter, I proceeded to walk away from the camp deep into the woods to bury the contents of the bucket. Still grumbling when I returned to camp, I looked directly into the wide eyes of my little gremlin who simply said, "Mom, M said she has to go potty."

Pep Talks

Last night, I received a phone call from the mother of O's best friend. I knew that our daughters had been experiencing spats over the past month and had actually considered calling her last week. But I wasn't sure how to approach the situation, so I let O simply handle things in her own way. I was happy to hear from (parent) and listened intently as she described the recent conversations (parent) had had with her daughter regarding O and their on again/off again friendship. It seemed that they had taken up other friendships which did not include one another and each was struggling with jealousy and hurt feelings. O had been encouraged to explore these other friendships after having her heart stomped on by whom I refer to as "the Mean Girls". If you've had the chance to see the Lindsey Lohan movie, you'll know exactly what type of girls I'm referring to. The ones who manipulate the social circles to meet their needs, who smile sweetly at you while whispering behind your back, the ones who string you along until they tire of you. I knew girls like that, and I, too, thought that I had to please them in order to be liked by them and be like them. It wasn't until I was heading off to high school that I finally realized that they meant little to me, and that I didn't need to meet their approval. They certainly hadn't met mine. O and I had talked through her relationship with "the Mean Girls", and she agreed that she felt better about herself when she chose to hang around other friends. Therefore, she made a decision to ignore their hurtful behavior, smile, and be the best friend that she could be to those who treated her with respect and kindness. Unfortunately for O, her best friend chose the Mean Girls. O has since struggled with trying to ignore the MGs without ignoring her best friend, but her emotions tend to get the best of her. After I hung up the phone, I knew that approaching O with the information I'd learned wouldn't help the situation, so I called in reinforcements. This morning, O happily informed me that she'd had an enlightening conversation with her Daddy at bedtime and that he helped her to remember to not be pulled in by wanting so badly to be liked by someone (like the MGs) that you say or do hurtful things to others. He reminded her that she is a beautiful and talented young lady who is blessed with many friends, including a very special best friend. O decided that she'd go to school this morning and try to keep an open mind about her friend's choice to hang out with the MGs and not let it get the best of her. Sheesh. And we have Middle School yet to look forward to!