"Peter Andrews says I'm gross"

My daughter (6) in her pink tights, black leotard and black tutu was playing in the backyard. Getting grass stains on her tights. Black-brown hair flopping out of its ponytail. Cheeks pink from the sun. Eyes wide and dark brown matching her beauty mark on her cheek. She skips up to me, "Peter Andrews says I'm gross." mom: "Well, honey, do you think you are gross?" Elaina: "No." mom: "what did you do?" Elaina: "I walked away." mom: "Ok, then." Elaina: "Ok." It was too easy. She fully believed and trusted me and herself. So, why do I want to go kick Peter's butt? Because he called my sweet little girl gross. I realize this is only the beginning. I realize it because I've been through it with my older kids. Someone calls them a name or makes fun of them, and sometimes they don't even see or hear the comment. But if I hear it or see it, I am just heartbroken for my child. My son said it best once when he (10 yrs at the time) said, "Mom, I know he just acts like that because he wants to be popular, but I think he is actually a nice guy." How grown up?! I want to be like him. I want to be like my daughter who can get over being called gross just by realizing that she herself doesn't think she is gross. So, the next time someone "tisks" their tongue and rolls their eyes at my kids for being too playful in line at the grocery store, or knocking something from a shelf, instead of wanting to pound that person, I will try to take the high road of my kids and smile, realizing that it is what I believe that matters. And today, what I believe is that my children are stronger than I think, can handle more than I suspect, and can respond more maturely than I realized. But I'm not saying I won't be giving Elaina an extra kiss tonight while she sleeps. also I don't want to forget: -Jack gave Charlie a bath tonight, got soap in his eyes accidentally, wrapped him in a towel, walked him downstairs to me and asked me to help him with a very concerned look on his face. Charlie was crying, and Jack was soooo sorry. After I got the soap out of his eyes, Jack insisted on "finishing the job" by diapering him himself and putting him to bed. -Jack also wrote me a very sweet love note tonight saying that "dad is lucky" and that he "loves me more than anything he has ever loved." He signed it: "your friend, Jack"