The ups and downs of a first real friendship

Only three more weeks until my daughters go back to school and my work schedule returns to normal. Maybe then I’ll finally get back to blogging with regularity.

In the meantime, here’s a little something I just wrote for Sesame Street (sign up for the newsletter here) about a play date gone bad:

It’s not exactly a walk in the park

A play date between 4 year olds is like a stroll through a booby-trapped park. The two could be skipping along, all unicorns and rainbows, when suddenly they take a sharp turn into troublesome territory because one of them isn’t sharing, or someone’s feelings are hurt, or someone is suddenly in the mood to be alone for no apparent reason.

It shouldn’t be surprising, really. Even adults sometimes have trouble getting along, hurt each other’s feelings, or need solitude. Only we’re not as blunt as 4 year olds.

Yesterday was a perfect example. For days, my 4-year-old daughter Phoebe had been looking forward to a playdate with one of her favorite friends, Renn. Shortly after arriving at the park, the girls began a pretend game involving two girl pirates and a bear. Within moments, Phoebe and Renn ran smack-dab into conflict.

Pirate Phoebe wanted the pretend bear to be the sort of bear who can’t climb. She was tired, and wanted to scale the play structure to be safe from the bear. Pirate Renn, on the other hand, wanted the bear to scramble up after them, so the girls would have to keep climbing and outfox the furry beast. Neither would budge.

Words were exchanged. Feelings were hurt. And the game came to a standstill.

With lips quivering, all that my tired and sweaty daughter could say was, “I’m feeling a little homesick. I want to go home.” What had started as a long-awaited play date came to an abrupt end.

Learning to work it out

Working out a problem can be tough for anyone, but especially for young children who have less experience. Conflict resolution takes two — two kids willing to listen, share, cooperate, or do whatever it takes to resolve the problem, and at least one adult encouraging their problem solving.

Yesterday morning, Phoebe wasn’t willing to do what it took. I could tell she was overtired and wounded. So, rather than put on my mediator hat, I opted to haul my exhausted daughter home. I fell over myself apologizing to the Renn’s mom, promising we’d try to do it again, all the while wondering whether I came across as a wimpy, indulgent parent and whether the girls’ friendship may have lost some of its sheen.

Later, I asked Phoebe some questions about what had happened at the park: “How do you think you might have solved the problem with Renn?” “What could you say to Renn next time you can’t agree on how to play a game?”

Then I boosted her confidence: “Do you remember when you were little (like, last year) and you didn’t even know how to share toys with your friends? And look at you now — you know all about taking turns. That’s because you’re growing up, and you understand more about how to be a good friend.”

Phoebe perked up and said, “Maybe next time I could say, ‘Let’s work it out! How about we play pirates and zebra instead? I’ll be the zebra.’”

Her face lit up into a big smile. It was the perfect solution.

Through thick and thin

Later that night, feeling bad about the problem left unfixed at the park, I decided to check in with Renn’s mom. After leaving the park, they had gone home and talked about the incident over some macaroni and cheese.

She reported that Renn was sad, but not just because she and Phoebe had argued. The incident had triggered deeper worries in her daughter, about the next school year and whether her new friends would want to play the same kind of games she likes to play.

As for her friendship with Phoebe, it was as sparkly and untarnished as ever. As Renn said, “I just don’t think Phoebe and I were in the same place today. But we’re still very good friends.”