When We Loved Everyone

My daughter has a habit of telling every person she knows that she loves them. Nice, huh? I didn’t think it was a big deal until she started Kindergarten and has been making pictures and letters to her friends (girl and boy) that always include I love you somewhere on the page. Her teacher has received many as well.

I still didn’t think it was a big problem. A letter with “I hate you” I’d be concerned about. But love letters to everyone is no big deal.

I started to reconsider one day when I went to pick her up from the after school program. It’s called MAP, not sure what that stands for, I just think it’s a different name for Latchkey. Apparently latchkey wasn’t pc and offended…latchkeys. But I digress.

The manager of the children (not sure of her title either) said she wanted to tell me something cute. I hold my breath anytime someone at school says this because it usually means embarrassing.

“Remember when I told you what good friends her and Mr. I are?

“Uh, yeah.” Read: God what did she do to him?

“Well, she was playing on the tire swing with another girl and I notice Mr. I was sitting on the ground with his chin in his hands. I asked him what was wrong, and he said ‘nothing, I’m just waiting to play with Ms. C (my daughter).

“Oh,” the manager says to him. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just waiting…because I love her and she loves me…”

Almost got weepy. I know my daughter. Ms. C is a little social butterfly. Everyday is a different best friend. I felt painfully sorry for the little boy. “He only plays with her,” added the Manager. “He doesn’t play with anyone else. Just thought it was cute.”

He was actually waiting. “You have to play with everyone,” I told my daughter. I know, probably not the right response. I embarrassed her a bit because now everytime I tell someone the story she says, “I do not love him! He’s just my friend.”

And then, a mother stops me in the hallway of the school during the Halloween parade. “Hi, I’m Mr. D’s mom,” she says.

I’m stunned. I don’t know anyone named Mr. D and so I just stand there with a stupid look on my face.

“You know, the one your daughter has a thing for.”

What? Oh, honey. My daughter has a thing for everyone…boys and girls. You have no idea. “Oh, yeah. She made that note for him.”

“Yeah. We have that note at home,” she says.

I don’t know whether she’s trying to chastise me or plan their wedding, but I decide I need to speak with my daughter about telling everyone she loves them. I couldn’t help but wonder if people will think that’s some kind of reflection of me as a single mother. (You know dear, her mom probably loves a lot of boys, too.) I’d be horrified.

I realize that it is my fault in a different way though. I’ve been so focused on making sure she knows I love her that we’ve been saying it to each other for no reason 40 times a day for as long as I can remember. I tell her when she’s sleeping. I think it when I look at her. To her it quite possibly has lost some meaning. I love you, to my daughter could be as simple a statement as saying I’m hungry.

I want her to know it means something. That it’s okay to love the world but not everyone will appreciate it or accept it. For now, it’s so damn innocent though. I am bothered by people that have a problem with it, there was once a time when we all loved everyone. We forget that sometimes.

Note:  I am the worst theme chooser on earth. I plan on getting this site in some kind of order one day, but don’t think I find this at all attractive…