Downs With Ups

Poppet left for school this morning with some ‘contraband’ in her bag and I’m thrilled. She’ll be sharing this with a posse of friends at lunch today, (well at least that’s the plan – whether she remembers to do so is another matter).

It seems Poppet has found a group of peers with whom she hangs at recess and lunch-time. I’m tempering my hopes though, for this hasn’t ever been the case.  Her lack of friends has always been a constant source of heartache for me, despite trying various ways in which to foster friendships.

Friendships can take many forms but all rely on an appreciation, affection and empathy for the other person. Although Poppet can be affectionate, she has yet to develop the attribute of selflessness and through this, an ability to consciously understand someone else.

Poppet is an only child, which doesn’t help either. She gets along better with adults than kids, mostly because adults can guide a conversation. Even her relationships with her cousins have changed, who are of a similar age and with whom she has grown up. There is now much less interaction between them; her cousins prefer to be in the company of the adults. There’s nothing malicious about this, it’s just that there’s little common interest between them the way there used to be when they were little, occupying themselves with toys and pets.

In primary school, she was on the periphery of her peers.  They all accepted Poppet for who she is, but there wasn’t really mutual engagement. Even her teacher wished Poppet had a friend with whom she could create mischief.  This was also the case in her first year at secondary school.

Poppet isn’t the only one who needs support in developing bonds with peers. One of the mums at the secondary school established a friendship group where girls with special needs can get together socially, once a month. It is a wonderful idea and I hope it proves successful.

Poppet went along for the first time last week and was warmly welcomed. Even though she was with the girls from school, she sat separately from them and had little interaction with them. The others accepted this and would simply go up and tell her when it was her turn to bowl, (they went tenpin bowling). Again, there was nothing nasty about this. It was just the way things were.

I wonder if she actually is missing something or if she’s happier on her own. She doesn’t know what she’s missing.  I see kids of her age texting each other and sending photos on Instagram and I feel sad. She just doesn’t have the contacts to do this, (she does have the phone though, which has become an extra appendage). Would she enjoy this sort of detached contact? I wonder.

She sees me as her friend and not so much her mother. When I’m firm with her, I see betrayal in her eyes as she flounces off, indignant and annoyed with me. (I’m supposed to be her ally.) When her father’s firm with her, she reacts quite differently. Depending on the severity of the issue, she may tear up, become sheepish or hurt. I’m not sure if this is healthy but it is the way it is.

“I have news”, Poppet announced the other night. She’d come home from school, chirpy and affable and as she emptied her lunchbox, I noticed she hadn’t eaten all her lunch.

“Emily[1] brought chicken chips to school,” she continued. “And she shared them with Hannah, Hailey and Sarah. And me!” Her face reflected the delight she experienced earlier that day. “We all ate chips with her.”

“Wow, that would have been exciting,” I replied, now understanding why she didn’t eat all her lunch.

The conversation about chips was long forgotten until yesterday when Poppet and I were doing the grocery shopping. “There they are,” she stopped and pointed at the snack foods section. Ah yes, chicken chips, I remembered. I was looking at the bright green coloured bags of junk food. But no, they weren’t the ones. Poppet went over to the shelves and took down a bag of honey, soy chicken chips, no less.

Turning to me, she asked, “Can I buy some to share with Emily and the girls?”

My first reaction was ‘no way’. They are way too unhealthy. Does the school have any rule against bringing junk food?  Who takes a huge bag of chips to school anyway?

Luckily, I didn’t express these thoughts to Poppet, for my initial reaction was quickly over ridden by the realisation that a) Poppet was with a group of girls sharing something, b) Poppet wanted to reciprocate, c) she was interacting socially with her peers and, d) what’s wrong with a few chips at school anyway. So we bought the chips and put them in her school bag. A delicious secret.

I’m hopeful this will help her cement some friendships at long last. In the past, I’ve bought a micro sound system for the school so that Poppet could take her iPod to listen and dance to music with the girls; I’ve bought her a diary so she too could write down her thoughts and share them at lunch with the others; I’ve bought her a netball so she could join in with the games, but all of this has eventuated in zip.

Who’d have thought? Chips. I guess food is a great leveller. Maybe Emily’s mum is on to something.

[1] All names have been changed.