Stop it you StinkyBucketSmeller!

Nanny Nanny Nah Nah!   The universal refrain of childhood.  When we embarked on this child rearing adventure, like all first time parents, Jeff and I had a fantasy about what our children would be like.  For the most part, in the early days, Ellie complied with that fantasy.  Ellie was a lovely baby; smiled when anyone smiled at her, rarely threw tantrums in public, and generally pooped before we got in the car.  She was also very docile.  The first time she tried to put her fingers in an outlet, I shouted "No!" and that was the end of outlet curiosity.  To this day, she's very aware of rules and in general, good about following them.  Except for one.  No Name Calling.

I don't know how it happened.  I don't call her names.  Jeff and I don't fight in front of the children.  All the parenting magazines told me that if we limited her TV watching, fed her green vegetables, and only bought her educational toys this wouldn't happen.  Alas, my darling girl has turned into a name calling, back talking, teasing, tongue sticker outer.  Sigh.

Being teased is a right of passage for all kids, I guess.  And those of you that have siblings know that there is no one God's green Earth who teases you more than your sister.  However, I was a kid that was much more likely to be on the receiving end of teasing rather than the giving end.  A pretty shy kid, I wore glasses, had crooked teeth, and bad hair complicated by a bad decision to get a perm in 1986.  My parents moved us around a couple times and we eventually landed in Cumberland, MD, home of the 1984 State Marbles Champion.  This is where I earned the nickname "Batgirl" for my horrendous octagon shaped glasses, that I got cause I read a book in which a shy girl gets octagon shaped glasses and almost immediately becomes popular.  Not so much.

Needless to say, I'm now sensitive to the issue of name calling.  I try to tread a fine line between intervening and letting it go, and I'm afraid that I'm simply going to confuse the issue.  Besides, it's a terribly complex thing to explain to a 5 year old... some names are okay to call people - smartypants for instance.  And something can be stupid, but someone can't?  What if the name is accurate - calling the lady in the too small outfit a fatso is accurate for sure, but definitely not allowed.  They're often extrodinarily creative names; "fartybabycarrotface", "poopydinnertablesitter"... you almost have to give them credit for originality.

A couple years ago, I was sitting at the pool with my friend and we were complaining about how hard parenting is as we watched our kids, all 5 and under at the time, play in the baby pool.  A woman leaned over to us and said "I hate to interrupt, but this is the easy part.  Little kids have little problems, big kids have big problems."  She's absolutely right, and Ellie's still pretty little.  I'm afraid that this is just the tip of the iceberg for us, and I'm bracing myself for the ride.  Wait until school starts!