{ 10 AGAIN }

BY LISA FISTER

 

The post ‘Musings of a 10 Year Old’ came at just the right time for me. My 10 year-old daughter brought home a fortune-teller just last week! Hers predicted that she would drive a Lamborghini, have one kid and live in Paris. Sometimes you don’t have to teach the important childhood traditions — they’re so good that they never die out.

Michelle, I envy your light and lively memories of being ten. I too have been thinking about life WAY back then — at ten. This special age, when you have new found freedoms of riding your bike a further distance from home and getting a Guinea Pig that is YOURS to care for and playing Sandy in slumber party productions of “Grease”. (The power of that movie cannot be denied.) But my memories of being ten mainly revolve around anguishing over friendships. I see that happening inside my daughter this very moment.
 
How do you know who your friends are? What is it to be a good friend?
 
At ten is when I walked out on my friends. I pulled my desk away in the classroom. I sat alone at lunch. I stopped going to slumber parties. Why? Because I could not resolve the contradictions within my particular group of friends. A group where girls were best friends one minute and sworn enemies the next. Up was down and down was up. A group that you can find in any elementary school at any point in history. And if you think it doesn’t exist in your child’s school, just wait. It will. Because this group (I now realize) is as timeless and inevitable as puberty.
 
Fast forward to my 10 year-old daughter, who said (just yesterday), “I need to get all new friends.” Oh, honey… being ten can be tough.
 
Maybe tonight I’ll sneak into her room and replace her fortune-teller with a version based in reality. It’ll predict that she will have friends who mess up and that she herself will mess up as a friend. It’ll predict that she will learn to forgive and learn to communicate better and learn when take care of herself by NOT trying to fix other people. It’ll predict that this will be harder than it should be, but that she will get through it.
 
And then she will be eleven.

 

nora lisa

 

nora snow

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