A couple months ago my friend posted this status update on Facebook

*Madison didn’t get invited to a classmates sleep over tonight. The ones who did all left after school so it was a big deal. She’s in tears. Trying to explain to her that it has nothing to do with her.

I felt for Madison and I really felt for her mother because I imagined myself in that position. Droves of comments came in with concerns about Madison and theories about how to handle it. Everything from pay back (throwing a party and not inviting the perpetrator), to bowling, to buying a pony was suggested. In the end Madison got to take a trip to the city to spend the night with her really cool aunt and all was well again. 
I think it’s often harder on the mother than it is for the child. Z is only 5 years old, but the reality of my child facing rejection in life is starting to present itself. Z is all about relationship. 
When SJ is at school I take the boys to a park or play place to pass the time. Because this happens weekday mornings there aren’t always a lot of playmates available. 
Z doesn’t even want to play if no one else is there to play with him. He is energized by company and when he’s alone he feels depleted. Then there are occasions when there are kids, but they are shy, or have their own group they are with, or some are just flat out annoyed by the eagerness of my son.
When this happens my protective instincts going into overdrive and I have to resist the urge to step in and take over. I want to referee! I want to tell him he doesn’t need them. I want to give him a play by play on how to approach friendship and be cool about it. I want to tell off mean 8 year olds. One time I did follow through with that last one, and I use pregnancy hormones as my excuse. We were at a Chic Fil A. One minute Z was running around pretending to be Buzz Lightyear and the next minute I found him sitting on the floor like a kite with no wind. I went over to check on him and a little girl came over (a bit defensive) explaining to me that she didn’t want to play with him because he was acting ridiculous. I had already assessed the situation, and a bit defensive myself, I calmly replied “Oh Really?” She spoke as though she was trying to sound like a teenager “Yeah, and I bet if he were in school no one there would want to play with him either”. I asked her how old she was and she said 8. I cut back at her inappropriately mocking her tone of voice “Well, I bet at 8 years old you must not remember what it’s like to be 4, or to have any kind imagination.” She caught on and looked at the floor with remorse. Then I fairly corrected Z, telling him that he didn’t need to pout and that if she didn’t want to play he just needed to play by himself. 
OH the heartbreak! For the record Z plays so well with all the kids at church and SJ’s school.
This isn’t an ongoing problem, but when occurs it hurts. The other day it happened with some brothers at the playground. They were a tad bit older and looked pretty tough. I thought “God, why did you give me such an outgoing child? I can’t handle it. If he keeps putting his heart on the line he’s going to get crushed.
He’s such a little guy. He likes to button his top button, and he’s got glasses. He doesn’t stand a chance.
 
Why can’t he be quiet and just keep to himself? Oh if only he were shy I could watch him play alone and be content. If only he wasn’t so bossy, he could let the other children lead and balance would reside!” As soon as the silent prayer popped into my heart I felt gentle loving conviction. I thanked God for Z’s outgoing personality and leadership qualities. IF ONLY I could see what a crucial role these attributes would play in the successful, passionate, man of God that he is going to become!
 I repented for my own fear of rejection which I pray never gets projected on to him. Sure, Z has a lot to learn about taking turns and giving people space, but we are working on it. And I’ll admit that at 30 years old I still have a lot to learn about play time too. 
*I should mention that Madison is not her real name*