Is it me?

If I ever wonder aloud how I got such a Pollyanna child, remind me that I almost started crying while coaching my daughter how to be tough this morning.

In fact, I did start crying when asking one of the teenage counselors to watch out for the bullying. But not until I was walking away.

Avoiding blaming the victim at all costs, but encouraging my girl to stand up for herself is hard, OK? I kept making suggestions and all she would say was, "Mom, I don't want to hurt his feelings."

The fact that he's hurting hers? That doesn't seem to matter so much. Except that she mentioned possibly not going back to camp today. Grrr!!!

Finally, I got her to agree to say, with force, "If you can't be nice, you can't be my friend."

Let's hope that helps.

Now, really, who's surprised I'm entrusting my $1.25 million former micro-preemie to teenage YMCA counselors anyway? I know I am! Not that there's anything wrong with them, just that I am a freak.