It's an inevitable rite of passage in every child's life -- the first sleepover.  When I was a child, I'm pretty sure I didn't have my first sleepover until I was well into elementary school.  My mother may correct me on this, but I don't recall a sleepover until I was in 3rd grade.  And then it was just the occasional birthday slumber party event.  Regular sleepovers with girlfriends probably didn't start until I was in middle school, at which time I remember tormenting my parents with giggles and kitchen raids well into the middle of the night.

Because I know karma's a beast, I have been putting off hosting sleepovers with my own children for as long as I possibly can.  My 9-year-old son attended his first sleepover the summer he was 7.  It was the birthday party of his best friend who lives just two doors down.  His friend's dad promised to sleep downstairs with the boys to make sure they didn't get into any mischief, which gave me some measure of comfort.  So while I wasn't thrilled about sending my son off to stay overnight somewhere that I wasn't going to be sleeping right down the hall, he wanted to go so we relented, knowing that we were only two doors down if he needed us.  As it turned out, he did great and even I survived the night without waking up more than two or twenty times to think about my son's empty bed down the hall.

Fast-forward two years and now my 6-year-old daughter has begun talking sleepovers.  It seems that the other little girls in the neighborhood have been having impromptu sleepovers for years.  Every time the subject comes up, I quickly shut it down.  My mantra is that she's too young.  She's begrudgingly accepted that so far, but that excuse isn't going to work for me much longer.  After all, my son was 7 when he attended his first.

I don't know what it is about the sleepover that I want to avoid for as long as possible.  I'm QUITE sure what I'm avoiding about hosting my own; I'm still holding out on that one.  But as far as my daughter going to someone else's home for a sleepover, if those parents are gluttons for punishment, why should I care? 

I think it's the girl thing, frankly.  Girls are mean.  Plain and simple.  Boys might have an occasinal altercation, but it's usually solved by a quick punch or jab and then they move on.  But girls are exclusive, manipulative, and malicious.  I've seen it over and over again.  And my daughter is a sensitive soul.  Not to say that she isn't capable of being cruel, but it seems that more often than not, she is on the receiving end of the abuse. 

Perhaps it's because she's younger than most of the other girls, or maybe she hasn't quite caught up developmentally, but for now I feel that it is my job to protect her.  I know that I can't insulate her from heartache forever, but for now I still have some measure of control, and I plan to hold onto it as long as I possibly can.  Perhaps I'll have to reverse my own policy of not hosting sleepovers sooner that I'd hoped so that I can be present to keep an eye on everything.