Isolation Part One

Yesterday I did something I didn't want to do.

I went up to Ugly to ask her if her son could come to my son's birthday party. Her son and my son are friends. "He's my best friend mummy," he often says. Though sometimes it's Juggling Mum's son, other times Media Dad's.

Now you may or may not recall that I wrote something under 'playground bullies' a while back.

After that unfortunate event in reception, I came to despise Ugly. I had no issue with Media Dad, but if he happened to be standing with her, which was usual given the three of us used to be friends, I would drag my corpse over to them in the mornings so our children wouldn't pick up that there was anything wrong. I did think if there was trouble between our kids when they got to year 1, then I would blame her.

On my son's birthday last year, I had a little tea party round my flat for my son and his three best buddies. I did this because Super Juggler Mum's son had been quite gutted he was unable to come to the birthday picnic the weekend before. Ugly's son had and so had Media Dad's but I thought it would be nice for my son, for all the boys, on my son's actual birthday.

Media Dad's son couldn't make it, some after school thing, but Ugly's son could, only she insisted on coming too. Erm, ok. I didn't despise her at this point, I merely disliked her. "You understand don't you? After what happened," she'd said. I'm a Delayed Action person (which I really must sort out) so I didn't say "Er no actually, you insulted my child remember, not the other way round" but I did raise the whole sorry mess a little later when we were all in the playground downstairs.

There's no talking to her. Honestly.

"You should know I'm still upset by what you said about my son last summer so in the playground I come up to you and Media Dad so the kids don't pick up on anything." She must have thought I was talking about her and Media Dad, or deliberately misinterpreted it for she flew.

"Me and Media Dad are friends! Close friends! We have a bond! Maybe because we're both Leos, I can't explain it, but we have something special!"

"I don't care!" I answered. "I don't have an issue with you and him, jump into bed with him for all I care! You called my son a LIAR."

"He IS a liar!" she screeched.
"He is NOT a liar! They were five years old! All children lie at that age, don't accuse mine!" And that was that. I discovered in that same conversation that when my son accidently broke her son's arm pushing him off a frame in a game, she'd gone round implying my son had done it on purpose, was a bully. I despised the woman.

(My son meanwhile, who was taking video footage with his new Early Learning Centre digital camera of his friends playing, had captured quite by accident, but brilliant for me if ever I needed to demonstrate that five year old boys will be five year old boys, footage of Juggling Mum's son pushing Ugly's son away from him while he was rocking on an 'elephant' and Ugly's son giving him a right old bashing in return. My son later deleted it and I thought what a shame because my son's eye had also captured the astonishing ugliness of Papier Mache Towers in the daytime.)

The next day, Media Dad, with whom things had gotten back to normal with, blanked me in the playground and I thought oh for fucks sake and started timing my run into school to coincide with the school bell so I wouldn't have to deal with it and pretend pretend pretend so that my son didn't ask awkward questions.

Things came to a head last November when Ugly did not invite my son to her son's birthday celebration.

I was scared for my son. Literally, physically, nauseously, frightened for him. Was this it now? Was he always going to be excluded by all his friends because the parents had an issue with me?

Drastic action was needed and I saw my opportunity at the Christmas Fete. I would talk to Media Mum, Media Dad's partner. A full time working mother, she was only in the playground once a week. She had nothing to do with any of it, and if she did know, she never let on. I was bringing her in. My guts emptied themselves out a number of times that day, I so didn't want to do this, destroy everything for my son. Needs must though. Needs must.

"I just want to start by saying it's fine you are friends with Ugly, it's good that you are, your kids are friends, but she doesn't talk to me and now I don't talk to her because she was rude to my son."

These are not conversations you want to have; her son, her partner. "I'm not blaming them. I never blamed them (no thanks for putting that in their heads Ugly)." It got sorted out, of course it did, we're grown ups. My son got invited to her son's birthday, was invited for a sleepover, I let my son go for the sleepover, Media Mum and I hung out at the International Evening, Media Dad and I talk sometimes, both our boys going to Beavers. Things are 'normal'. Ugly's boy doesn't go to Beavers and I can't say I'm not happy about that, the way things stand. I don't like to look at Ugly so I'm forever grateful she's tall and I don't have to.

Our boys all had a rough start the first term of year 1. On one occasion just before Christmas I saw my son, who couldn't see me, going round and round a tree, on his own. Other kids were enticing him to join a game of 'it' but round and round he kept going. Gently I coaxed it all out of my son. He and one of his friends had gone in different directions, my son cutting himself off entirely, and the other, would tease others. Neither stance was good.

I could never talk about it with the parents, I didn't have that rapport. In Reception, at the time, I'd spoken to the school about what Ugly had said about my son. I had to, he was missing out on going to the park with them after school, all sorts, but I didn't raise it now. I just had to trust the school knew what it was doing. It's all fine between the kids now, it has been for a long time. Ugly never achieved whatever it was she set out to achieve.

This morning the mentor took me by surprise and said: "Your son and Ugly's are good friends." (No, he didn't call her Ugly, no-one knows I call her Ugly apart from some of my out of school friends) I replied: "I know, it's great isn't it? Those kids are so much better than us adults at resolving things," before resuming boring housing crap conversation.

However yesterday Ugly said her son could go to my son's birthday party. If she insists on coming along this time, I'll just have to have it out with her one last time. You might never know for I'm not at a place in my life where I post about what this or that person does, so obsessed am I with fucking housing....

Next month's (October) issue of Psychologies though has an article entitled:
"Playground politics for adults

Bullying, telling tales and tight-knit cliques are all part of school life - and that's just the mothers. Clinical psychologist Dr Stephen Briers offers advice on how to navigate the schoolyard."

Came abit late for me but I knew just what it meant.

If Ugly ever reads this, well, what can I say? Bridges, crossing, all that jazz....