An Open Letter to my Children, During a Worldwide Pandemic

 An Open Letter to my Children, during a Worldwide Pandemic:

There was once a time, around a decade or and little bit more ago, that I thought we had the whole world in front of us.  A beautiful, enriching life to live.  I wanted to show you everything I knew, and learn even more about this crazy life, right alongside you.  I still want that.  

Around a year and a half ago, it seemed like the world stopped.  We thought it would be only for a month or so, but it turned into, well, a couple of years.  A couple of years in my mid-30’s wasn’t a big deal to me, but it was a big deal for you guys, even if you didn’t know it.  It was during probably the most formativeyears of your childhood.

I always thought of the nostalgic memories I had in public school- and not like the expected stuff, but the little things.  Like the smell of a freshly waxed gym floor, the joy of opening a brand new notebook and box of crayons, and the sound of other kids walking through the hallway, excited and eager to enjoy the next thing that was coming at school.  The running, climbing and peer squabbles that occurred during outdoor recess.  The aroma of hot lunch cooking in the school kitchen, whether we liked it or not.  The anticipation of Halloween costumes with friends, drawing on our desks when we got bored in class, eating cheetos and balogna on white bread for sandwiches at lunch because, why not?  And even the little posters on the wall of the cafeteria that said “Drink Milk”, and the overhead projector during classroom lessons that showed us how to carry 10’s and master long division.  

How about the 5th grade gym show?  How about that Christmas craft party?  And school concerts?  Girl Scouts.  Fall soccer games.  The crack of a bat meant the first sign of Spring.  Riding bikes because we liked it, and could get to places faster.  Sledding down questionable hills in the winter and eating snow because we were kinda thirsty from climbing those hills. Causing the metal posts on swing sets to lift out of the ground because we were swinging too high, and the sharp sound of the whistle when we had to go back inside.  

Those things just aren’t happening for you, not compared to how they happened for me.  

Back in the 90’s, there were parades, and community gatherings, and family get-togethers on holidays.  We truly enjoyed the physical company of each other.  We didn’t have to worry about getting sick, or possibly hurting anyone we loved just from our presence.  We just existed, as people, who enjoyed each other’s company.  I truly thought, unconsciously I guess, that you would experience the same thing.  

I was wrong.  

When I was 12 I used to ride my bike down to the local swimming hole and enjoy hours with my 7th grade friends- talking, swimming, taking risks.  I loved sitting in trees and reading novels that had the sweet smell of book-binding glue, and I also loved folded up football letters from friends, and folded paper fortunes. Now, 7th grade is virtual calls, and video games, and cancelled plans.  It is being in school on one day, and being at home alone for the next.  

When I was in 4th grade I loved everything, but two things specifically: soccer, and chorus.  Neither of those things can successfully happen right now.  Rather, there are regular phone calls with friends, virtual class calls, no school, and a mandate to stay within the parameters of home.  

When we’re kids, we just take what is coming to us.  You guys are fine.  It is me who is grieving, as your mother.  

There is so much about my childhood I’m gonna miss on behalf of the both of you.  And at the same time, it isn’t about me, is it?  You guys are totally fine and adjusted to the times you’re living in.  And me and your dad, we just have to get over it.  

Perhaps now, memories may consist of the smell of home-cooked meals, adventures in the yard, that “bell signal” at the beginning of a class call, the dog barking. The phone ringing, endless card games, television series on constant replay, graphic novels, strange TikTok tunes that play over and over again, long conversations at the dinner table each night, and so much more that goes on within these walls of what we call home.  

Two and half decades ago is history, things were much different.  And it’s our story of growing up.  And now in 2021, this is your story.  It’s different, for sure.  In the 90’s the 1970’s marked 2 decades preceding, and we were told by our parents that things were so much different back then. 

We got sick of hearing it.  

Reality?  Things are also different now.  And really, why wouldn’t they be? 

As parents, we are currently grieving a childhood experience that our children know nothing about.  Just as our parents grieved the same thing.  It really is no different from anything before us.  

I truly believe it is harder for us than it is for the kids. Let’s quit our crying, it’s a just sign of the times!  All the kids are alright!

My beloved children- This is it!  You will have a story to tell, growing up during a worldwide pandemic.  And it’s a great, layered, exciting story.  

Love,

Me

An Open Letter to my 6th Grade Son, during the 2020 Pandemic

 An Open Letter to my 6th grade son, during the 2020 Pandemic:

Dear 11-year-old-son,

First and foremost, I want you to know that there is always a specific challenge in U.S., or even World History, that directly affects youth.  In my time, it was 9/11.  In your time, it is the Covid Pandemic. 

There’s a few things I am grieving this year, as your mother.  

First and foremost, your ability to see the world.  You’re at such an influential age, and I’m struggling with the idea that during this important time, you’re stuck at home, and not experiencing the world as we know it. I just want you to to know, there is SO MUCH the world has to offer you.  In the contiguous United States, and also in so many other parts.  We’ve exposed you to Florida, and NYC, and the wider part of New England.  But we wanted you to know more, and learn it for yourself.  

And then there are the regular childhood things.  I am so sad that basketball won’t happen for you this year.  You loved playing last year, and this would have been your final year as an “elementary school” child.  You would have earned the trophy and the sweatshirt.  So sorry you had to miss that.

And for the past few years, we’ve been looking forward to your 4-day field trip to Nature’s classroom in Maine.  This is where you would learn team building skills, and connection with nature and your peers.  So sorry you had to miss that.  

There are other things that naturally come along with 6th grade- independent learning, school dances, finally caring about what clothing you wear and how you look at school.  So sorry you had to miss that.  

And 6th grade graduation? Unknown. But in advance, so sorry you had to miss that.  

I’m so sorry you had to miss these important parts of childhood, at such a tender and influential age.  And I also know, I am much more heartbroken about it than you are.  

When you’re a child, you just kind of take life as it comes. This is your life.  I’ve learned, somewhat slowly-- I’m grieving what could have been your experience much more than you are.  

My 6th grade son- what a wonderful time in history.  Celebrate your youth- it’ll be a large part of your story, some day!  It certainly wasn’t what I had planned for- but your life is also not a story that was written by me! It’s your own story to share!

A slightly different perspective on COVID-19

So I originally talked about how I thought that maybe this whole “social isolation” thing would be a great opportunity for my family.  And honestly, it has been, so far.  Never, in 10 years married or 14 together have we really had this much time together.  With kids, without kids.  Day in, day out, nothing planned.  Unless we were away on vacation.  But never for days on end at home.  I was hopeful that it would be really great, and then I also think I may have been dreaming.  I may have been standing on top of a rainbow, of sorts, with all my hope and expectations.

So I’ll say this: It hasn’t been absolutely horrible.  We’ve had a little more time together that we’ve really never had before.  We’ve done some nice things as a family- we’ve taken walks together, made meals as a family, and done some household projects.  Overall, they’ve been somewhat successful family experiences.

And now, I’m facing reality. 

All this is going to get old, real fast.

I’m not saying this because my family isn’t strong, because we certainly are.  And I’m not saying this because we don’t whole-heartedly love each other, because we absolutely do.  But I AM saying this: maybe sometimes, families thrive because they’re able to have a break from each other.  Now we’ve got no space, no distance, and no break.  We’re together every second.  This is a learning curve, for sure.

I am blessed to live in a home that is away from direct neighbors, with plenty of woods and property to explore.  Thank goodness, because this definitely wasn’t the case about a year ago (my family has recently moved).  We have a larger outdoor and indoor space now, room to have space for ourselves, room to do our own thing.  But still, we’re going to begin to drive each other crazy, even given the space.

During this isolation, it’s begun to look like this: “I wanted to watch this show, but Amelia doesn’t.”  “I’m trying to focus on my schoolwork, but Avery is blasting his science podcast.”  “I really want fish sticks for dinner, but Avery wants spaghetti.” “I really want to play Monopoly, but Amelia wants to play Skip-Bo.”  “I want to go play outside, but Avery wants to play his video game.”  “I really want to finish this sticker book, but Amelia wants to play hide-and-seek.” 

And I get it, these are first world problems.  Minor in the grand scheme of things.  Somewhat easy to work through and figure out.  But still, it’s all the time.  ALL OF THE TIME!!! 

Then there’s this, with my husband who is now also home: Me to my husband: “Can you please take your god damn sap off the stove so I can make lunch for the kids?” My husband to me, “Can you please shut the damn door to the basement before the dog gets down there and pees everywhere?”  Me to my husband, “If you do nothing else in life, please turn of the light in the garage before you go to bed.”  Husband to me, “If you do nothing else in life, can you please wipe the food off your plate before putting in the sink? We don’t have a garbage disposal!”

Then there’s this with the kids: “Who is responsible for feeding the dog today?  Do it, please!”  And then, “Your laundry has been sitting in the basket or 5 days now, please just put in in your drawers!”  Even more, “Brush your god damn teeth, it’s been 2 days!”  “You have all day with no expectations, the least you can do is pick up your bedroom!”

My husband and I, “Why is the house such a mess, we’re home all day, let’s keep it clean an picked up.”  “Why are there books and toys scattered all over the living room, you should be taking care of them!”  “Stop eating us out of house and home, before you know it, we’ll be food insecure and grasping for meals!”  “You need to get some fresh air, you’ve spent the greater part of the day on your devices!”  And finally, at 5 PM, “Change out of your PJ’s and brush your teeth, this is a new day!” 

Folks, these days will be long.  There’s gonna be arguments and quarrels.  We’re going to get sick of each other.  We’re going to want a break, and then there won’t be one.

The kids were excited about home school and remote school at first, but eventually they’ll burn out and fight it.  We’ll be pretty much bribing them over that.  We’ll be begging them to go out and play, to give us a break.  The breaks will be far less then what we need. 

The kids will fight with us.  My husband and I will argue.  We’ll worry about legitimate things, like finances and being able to have enough of what we need, like food, laundry soap, and god forbid, maybe even toilet paper (although it’s the least of my worries).  We’ll argue over household chores and the delegation of such, like laundry, dishes, cleaning bathrooms and sweeping floors. 

Let’s face it- this time together will be a learning experience- wonderful, and un-pretty at the same time.  There will be great times, and unsettling ones, for sure. 

It is my hope we’ll make it through it, and come out stronger as a family.  But I’m being real here: there’s a lot of moments that will be hell.  But eventually, we’ll look back, and consider ourselves survivors of the COVID-19 Pandemic. 

Our kids will tell their grandkids, “we somehow survived that Covid-19 crisis, and our parents did the best they could.” 

I’m going to choose to consider that idea to be the most important to me.  Because the rest is an absolute crapshoot! 

So there’s this Coronavirus Pandemic that’s effecting our whole country right now.  It reminds me of the H1N1 virus 10 years ago.  National Health issue.  Threat to anyone with a compromised or weak immune system.  Scary stuff for those people! 

I totally agree with the idea that we need to limit public exposure- I understand why we’re avoiding large gatherings and spaces where a good amount of people are in close proximity.  Things such as March Madness, colleges finishing out the year online/secluded, general gatherings, concerts, events, all those things.  Makes sense. 

Then there’s families like mine.  I’d be willing to argue families like mine make up a very large percent of our society, right now.  Parents and/or adults between the ages of 21-55.  Children between the ages of 12 months-21.  Middle class families.  Families who work, at least one parent, who are exposed to the general population, and kids who attend public school.  Most week days, day in and day out, each and every day of our lives. 

Department of Health says it shouldn’t be a threat to us.  That generally healthy people will survive it no problem.  But, it’s our duty to protect anyone else from contracting the virus, by staying as isolated and separated as we can be.  This make sense, too.

I’m not panicking, yet.  We heard from the superintendent of my kids’ school district today, and also the one that I work in, that school will not be cancelled as of right now.  We will go about daily business as usual.  I’m happy for that- only because I’m a private clinician who contracts with a school, and, basically, if I don’t work I don’t get paid. So great!  I can work, the kids can go to school! 

But then, there’s this: I would’ve, and still will, absolutely welcome a week or 2 off at home with my husband and children.  

And I just think, weather you’re religious, spiritual, or anything at all, maybe this is God’s way of saying, “The U.S. needs some family time, without interruption.” 

Because let’s ne honest here- there’s little to no opportunity for that, in our country.  At least in the middle class.  Usually, one or both parents work, kids go to school, we don’t have many opportunities to spend time together for days on end, without other life responsibilities.   Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it would be a positive thing for my family. 

I think of it, daily now.  We’d make meals together.  We’d spend time doing stuff together, like playing board games or cards, watching movies, and playing outside.  We’d work together to complete household chores like dishes and laundry.  We’d collect and boil sap into syrup, we’d gather our chicken eggs, and have bonfires in the backyard, and sit out on the porch if it’s nice enough!  We’d find ways to have fun as a family, and, make the best of our time together.  And maybe, it would be the BEST time.  Maybe it’s something that my family needs in order to realize what’s most important, in order to grow, and become closer. 

Maybe sometimes our outside obligations get in the way of what’s the most important.  Maybe family time is more valuable then we realize.  Maybe we’d really stress about not having the income and finances after missing a couple weeks of work, and, maybe, it’d be WORTH it! 

My family is a hard-working, middle class family.  My husband and I spend most weekdays working.  My kids spend most weekdays at school.  Honestly, COVID-19- what an awful pandemic.  But at the same time, my family welcomes the seclusion!  God gave us this for a reason! 

There's a Shelf Life for Summer-Time

If summer was a grocery item, it would be pretty typical.  Kind of like a an unripened fruit, gallon of milk or a pack of yogurts:  Best if used by mid- July, but will last, until the very end, late August.

In my mind, I love summer.  I’ve worked endlessly to make sure I have a job where I have most of the summer off to spend with my kids.  And I do enjoy it.

 Mostly, the idea of it.

 The reality of it?  Yeah, I do enjoy it, for the first few weeks, at least.

And I hate to admit it, but I’ve learned this fact, year after year of having summers to spend with my kids.  I LOVE summer for the first 3-4 weeks- really up until about my birthday- July 20th, right smack in the middle of summer.

And also what I’ve learned- summer is like a hike up a mountain.  The first part, the hike up, right up until mid-July, around my birthday, is fun, and adventurous, and joyful.  And then we reach the peak.  Wahooo!  In Sheakspeare’s words, “A mid-summer night’s dream.”

And then, it’s time to head down the mountain.

The first part of summer, for about a month, mid-June to mid-July, is full of trips to the lake, story-hours, museums, playgrounds, bike paths, picnics.  We wake up, put on our swim suits, and live in them for the rest of the day.  We have campfires and eat s’mores, we kayak down local rivers, we back-float in the lake until it’s too cold in the evening, we get ice creams every other night, and fully enjoy the sun and wonder of summer time in VT.

And then, we become a little bored with it.  The kids go to camp. They love it.  They need rest when we get home.  They hang out for a few days.  They snack endlessly.  They create laundry.  They hang out with the neighborhood kids and invite them to run in and out of the house all day long.


 I mention going to the lake.  They protest.  I get them up to go to story hour.  They exclaim how they’d rather die than do that.  And it is then, when I realize, we reached the peak of the mountain, and we’re on our way back down.

You see, there’s a shelf-life for summer time.  It really just starts to rot after about a month or so.  Unstructured, unplanned, relaxing days can only last for so long.  From mid-June to mid-July they’re exactly what we need.  And then they become, in a lack of better terms, a never-ending, downhill hike from there.

Just in June this year: We went to the lake 8 times, we kayaked down Clyde River, we camped for a long weekend at Tree Corners campground, we attended 4 Story Hours, we hiked two different trails, we visited my mother twice.

Early July, keeps going: we went to 3 parades, we were in one of them!  We went to Boston for a long weekend-- enjoyed a Whale Watch and Red Sox game.  We went to see the fireworks. Attended 3 pot-luck cook-outs.  Hung out at my family’s camp.  Had sleepovers with friends, went yards-saling, fishing, sailed on grandpa’s sailboat, and completed 1 week of theatre camp and 1 week of outdoor adventure camp.

And then, there was August.

 Downhill from there.  We spent he first week camping on dad’s week off, which was a good time.  But you know what?  We were kind of already over it.  We had already spent countless hours swimming, exploring the woods, and hanging out outside.  The sun, honestly, was just a nuisance.  We wanted Wi-fi, inside bathrooms, and the ability to cook with a stove and oven.

We came home.  We did practically nothing,

Nothing,

 For a week and then two weeks.  Went to the lake a few times, spent lots of time with the neighborhood kids, and got bored.  Real bored.  The kids drove mom crazy.  Mom drove the kids crazy.  Mom tried to reorganize the house.  Mom tired to implement a chore chart.  Mom failed.  Mom yelled at the kids.  The kids resorted to using more technology than what they should for it being summer time.  Mom nagged the kids to work on summer reading.  The kids fought back and decided to argue instead of read.  Mom went grocery shopping.  The kids ate all the food out of boredom.  Mom would buy more groceries but after spending all of the extra money on the first part of the summer and camping, mom and dad are pretty much broke.

Mom turned off the TV and forced the kids to go outside.  The kids had fun outside, but also got into trouble outside.  Mom grounded them.  Mom realized it was more of a punishment for herself.  The kids got sick with sore throats.  Mom attempted to bring them to the doctors and somehow got hung up at the Canadian border for an entire day.  Dad bailed her and the and the kids out.  Mom went to Walmart to get groceries.  Mom went to Walmart again to get more groceries.  And then again.  Mom went to Walmart again, to buy school supplies.  Mom spent all the money.  Summer still wasn’t over.

Ladies and gentlemen, there’s 1 week left.  1 week left of unstructured, “relaxing” summer days.
Then it’s back to school.  Back to work.  Back to routine.  Back to packed lunches, grocery planning, sports-filled weekends, and complaining that life is just so damn busy.

And let me tell you:  I can’t wait!

Just like every good thing in this world, there’s shelf life for summertime.  The lack of structure, planning, and responsibility for time can’t last forever.  It’s good for awhile.  And then, we remind ourselves of all the reasons we need some type of routine in our lives.  Let the school year begin.  Bring on the homework, and soccer practices, and early bedtimes.

 Christmas? No way.  Back-to-school is truly the most wonderful time of the year.

The Influence of My 9-Year-Old Son's Best Friend

My 9-year-old son has made a fantastic summer friend.  That friend is unique, and funny, adventurous, and a blast to be around.  Avery (my son) and his friend ride bikes, and play board games, and watch YouTube.  They eat large bowls of ice cream and laugh as it melts of their spoons.  They make believe with stuffed animals, listen to funny songs on the radio, and sing karaoke and dance in the road.  They play chess, and XBox games, and build legos, and run through the sprinkler together.  They eat watermelon and watch the juice drip down heir elbows on my front porch steps.  They swing as high as they can on the swingset on my front lawn, and pick raspberries and throw them in each other's mouths, most of the time missing, but still laughing.  They draw with chalk on the driveway, and make contests out of who can roll the spool of tape the longest down the hill. They create obstacle courses with hula hoops, plastic buckets, and tires.

They are the real, true best friends.  The type of summertime friends that you never, ever forget.

And the greatest thing: His best friend is a GIRL.

A girl, who has beautiful dark skin and long, black hair.  She wears skirts sometimes, and paints her nails. She plays with barbies, and baby dolls, and has taught Avery how to make friendship bracelets and  choose a great 2-piece bathing suit at Wal-Mart.  She also loves swimming, and fishing, and playing in the sand and mud at the beach, and boy can she throw and catch a baseball!

I love Avery's friendship with this girl- this fun girl who lives 2 blocks away from us, is a year ahead of him in school, and unconditionally just loves him as a playmate and friend.  There's absolutely nothing more, and nothing less to this relationship, except pure, solid playmate-hood and friendship.

Their time spent with each other is bittersweet to me.  I know that in a few years from now, the relationship will become weird.  "Weird" I say, because puberty will happen, and relationships will change, and, well, let's just be honest here- middle school.

But right now they're perfect.

There's a lot a "girl" friend can teach my son about life.  Maybe, most importantly, that girls can be great companions.  They can be fun, and adventurous, and exciting, just as much as boys can be.  And they're somehow allowed to like things- like dolls, like nail polish, like sewing crafts, that other kids may think are dumb or "girly".

And what else?  Girls can be just as grounded in their opinions as boys.  They have just as much of a say in what game we play, or how we play it.  They are just as capable of what adventure we decide upon for the day, and what the outcome is.  Girls are just as strong and opinionated, and capable, and ready-for-fun as the boys are.

This little girl has shown my son what true, real friendship is, and at the same time has introduced him to things he may not have ever felt comfortable with with a "boy" friend. She may never know what a gift she's given him.

I am so thankful for her, and their friendship.  I cherish it, knowing that it most likely won't be forever.  Not a closeness like this, anyway.

I want to go back to being 9.  I want to re-live 4th grade.  To love a friend, for who they are, regardless of gender, with no strings attached.  No weirdness.  No, "maybe".  No awkward moments.  Just pure, un-romantic, un-judged,  innocent human connection and companionship.

So my 9-year-old son, before the age of romance, and school dances, and short skits, and brand-name cologne, has the blessing of having this chosen person as his best friend.

This friendship may or may not be one of the most influential and profound relationships of his life.  I can almost guarantee he may never experience something quite like it again.

And don't we know it?  That fact is little sad, but very likely to be true.

Be still my heart; cherish these moments. 

Just Drop the Rope

It's been a long time since I’ve written anything.  But I need to write this article, because I hope I will gain some validation that I’m not alone.

 It’s taken a bit of courage, lots of vulnerability, and a huge throat lump swallow of my pride to say this--- but my 9-year-old son can be kind of mean. 

Well, no.  Let’s be honest here.  He can be really mean at times.  And I can’t help but not personalize the issue as a parent.

My child, vastly different from who I was growing up, has pretty much no tolerance for other kids teasing him, or really even looking at him the wrong way.  He will quickly and immediately put them in their place- without a second thought.  Any negative comment directed at him will be immediately turned around into a deeper, more cutting insult against the child who made any comment in the first place. 

And really, although it boggles my mind that he does this, I’ve actually been able to weigh out the pros and cons of this specific skill- to be able to turn any argument right back upon the person who initiated the conflict, holding little to no empathy for the opposing peer or peer group at the same time!

In his most recent peer conflict at school, one of his peers told him that he lies all the time, he sucks at baseball, and pretty much that he is all talk and not follow-through- just in a lack of better words.  And these statements- I will admit, they’re true,somewhat true ,quite arguably  true  and TRUE! 

I will never be one of those parents who can’t see the dark side of my kid.  I believe from the bottom of my heart that an important part of parenting is helping your kid to own their own qualities and behavior, while at the same time supporting them as a good human being and person.

 

So this peer made these absolute true statements about my kid.  And the funny thing is, he knew it.  He knew those things were true.  So, unlike me, instead of wallowing in his own shame and self despair, he responded with this statement:

“You know what?  I could connect the dots with the freckles on your face.” 

WHAT?!  Who comes back with that type of comment, or in better words, that absolute, superficial stab at another human being?? Could it possibly be my kid?  Hate to admit it, but yeah, that’s my MY kid who said that in his response to being called out on his crap.  

I’m sorry, but having freckles is not something that should be considered a flaw or downfall.  Having freckles cannot compare to the blows at your character that this peer has highlighted in his observation about you.  There’s a piece of me that wants to say, “Why can’t you just own your shit and move on?’  And then there’s this piece of me that wants to say, “If you’re gonna counter a blow at your personality, why not make it deeper than that?”

And here’s the real question:  should I be telling my kid to just drop the rope in the tug-of-war with this other child, or should I be telling him to pull him further into the mud?  I struggle with this.

We, as social human beings, have challenges and strengths.  And when someone highlights those challenges and flaws in our character, it’s out knee-jerk reaction to cut that person right back.  I get that. 

Son, how do I wish you’d respond in this conflict?  I want you to own your shit, set a limit, and move on.  I want you to say, “Hey, that was mean, cut it out.  It hurt my feelings and embarrassed me around all of my friends.”  In a perfect world, I’d love for him to be able to set this limit, and then drop the thick rope in the game.

But you know what?  He’s 9.  And in 9 years, he hasn’t learned these skills.  And in 9 years, most kids probably haven’t.

I’ve got to keep reminding myself that my young child is not actually an adult- he is not an adult who possesses adult coping skills.  He is not an adult who is able to think before he speaks, or an adult with enough life experience to know how to respond to such words.  He is a child, who has child-like responses, because, well, that’s how it goes.  So instead of doing the grown-up thing, he responded by commenting on the other child’s appearance.  The easiest, and quickest way to fight back.

Set a limit and walk away, kid.  SET A LIMIT and WALK AWAY.  Refuse to engage.

 

But he can’t.  And it’s really not that he WON”T, it’s that he doesn’t have the skills to drop the rope and not internalize the reality and pure truth of what other kids say to him.  And he can’t because he’s 9, and in the social hierarchy of his class, it’s just a bit too vulnerable to say, “hey, that was a mean and hurtful remark, it damaged by feelings, and also, some of those statements might be true, and that’s what cut the deepest.”

So his best defense: Quickly find a deeper dig and redirect everyone’s attention to that other childs’ greater flaws.  Then the spotlight if off him, and essentially, he’s standing the dark making mindless comebacks.  The spotlight all of the sudden has shifted.

Great strategy, kid.  Probably works great when you’re 9.  However, for the rest of your life, there’s gonna be some serious backfire on comebacks like your own!

My little boy, here’s by best advice for you:  When someone is mean, quickly tell them that they are.  And when they don’t stop, walk the heck away.  And then… STAY away for awhile.  For a real long time.

And more you could do:  REFUSE to engage.  Don’t come back with a deeper stab.  Don’t bring an adult into it- please handle your own battles.  Just walk right the heck away, and don’t come back until you’re absolutely sure that none of those comments will affect you.  Because trust me, they WILL happen again.

And for the love of god!  OWN YOUR SHIT!  Do you lie, do you tell stories, are you mean sometimes?  Probably.  Because nobody is perfect.  But damn, at the end of the day, the biggest separation that comes between human beings is those who can take responsibility, and those who can’t. 

If you're nothing else in life, be someone who can own your own faults.

Unfortunately, we can't control the actions of others- we can only have jurisdiction over the actions of our true selves.  Be responsible for your own shit.  Be humble.  Be kind.

And then, when somebody dares to tell you that you’re not those things, you know in your heart who you truly are!

When someone  makes an attempt to master the declamation your very own character,  just DROP the rope. Much easier said than done, but worth it in the long run.

Maintain the positive relationships in your life- they’re important in building your self esteem.  Maintain the negative relationships in your life- this skill is equally important in not letting others bring you down.  

Just maintain peaceful relationships- that’s all.  Don't stab back, don't internalize their words.  In a famous song by the Beetles, "Let It Be". I promise, good things will come!