3 years ago we moved back home to Texas and chose to live in an apartment so we'd have time to find the ideal home, in the ideal neighborhood, and in the ideal school district.
The apartment complex we lived in was very nice and we had relatively quiet neighbors. We knew the apartment was a bit out of the way and away from shopping and family, so we expected some commuting to get to where we needed to go and other inconveniences. What we didn't expect was a situation which rapidly spiralled out of control on my children's 3rd day in their new school and something which would turn our lives upside down for the next 2+ years.
My son was in 3rd Grade and was a very bright young man. Not much passes by him without him noticing, unless the tv is on, in which case a freight train could pass next to his head and he wouldn't notice. By the 2nd day of school, he was marked as a "smart" kid by 2 boys in his class. These 2 boys were 10 and 11 years old in a class of 3rd Graders, who were 8 years old, and these boys didn't like "smart" kids.
The very next day at school, they "introduced" themselves to my son. During recess and directly in front of a teacher, the 2 boys came up and punched my son in the head and face with all their might. The teacher witnessed the attack and shoo'd the boys away from my son but did nothing else.
She did not report the incident to the administration nor did she send my son to the school nurse. Because she didn't report the incident, I was not notified and his classroom teacher said she was not notified.
I pulled up to the carpool pickup line that day and my children climbed in the car. When I asked how their day went, my son immediately broke down crying. I pulled over and calmed him down enough so he could tell me what happened. From the side of the road, I called my husband. He had me drive home to the apartment and was in the parking lot waiting for us upon our arrival.
Have you heard the phrase "Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn"? Well, I think it should read "Hell hath no fury like a Redhead's scorn when you mess with her kid"! We talked with my son's teacher and the Assistant Principal (the Principal wouldn't meet with us, take our calls, return messages, or even emails). We were assured they'd get to the bottom of it and discipline would be meted out.
Despite their assurances, incidents like this continued. We debated whether or not to pull our son from school and homeschool him. He hated going to school for the first time ever, and yet he loved seeing his friends. It was such an emotional time for all of us as we were completely unprepared for this level of violence at his age and we truly did not know what to do. Our son was scared of the boys but he wanted to be at school. While we wanted to protect him, we also didn't want to do more damage by pulling him out of school and taking him away from his friends.
In an effort to bring him some level of comfort, we bought a special necklace for him. It's what he wanted and he picked it out. It was a chain with a cross hanging from it. He said he wanted to be able to feel Jesus close to his heart when he got scared and to feel His power. Our son knew we were working hard to help and protect him but he wanted, and needed, a little visual confirmation that Jesus had his back too.
The level of violence escalated 2 months later when the kids were on the playground right before the Christmas break. The 10 year old bully cornered my son, again in full view of the same teacher, grabbed ahold of my son by the throat and lifted him completely off the ground while trying to choke him to death. My son described the incident this way: I couldn't breathe, my feet were off the ground and everything started going dark like it was night. I was seeing stars and flashes of light in my eyes. I thought I was going to die. I asked Jesus to help me and that's when all of the sudden I got the power! I hit him. I hit him with all my power. I balled up my fist like Dad taught me and with every ounce of power in my entire body, I hit him in the ribs and stomach. Mom! HE LET GO! He started coughing and crying and then I ran off and stayed far, far away.
Again we received no call or notification from the school and it was only when I picked him up from school that I heard about this violence. I'd had more than enough and at this point, my anger was well beyond any controllable level. My husband and I went straight to the school. The Assistant Principal was assigned the task of meeting with us, since the Principal refused to acknowledge our existence. I would love to say in an ever so lady-like way that I was angry, but in reality, I was enraged. I was so livid I could have spit nails and framed an entire building without benefit of a nailgun or air compressor. I was so angry that my husband decided that he'd just sit back and watch the fireworks light up that school from a redheaded mother bear fighting to protect her cub.
The school was put on formal notice right then and there that we would be pressing criminal charges against the school, the boys and their parents, the district, the administration, and every single teacher in the school who was around or had any contact with my son, as well as contacting every single television station and newspaper in the state. We also told them we would be filing a lawsuit against the district, school, administration, and every single teacher and teaching assistant in the school if there was so much as 1 hair on my son's body ever touched again.
The very next morning as the teacher was clearing out the 2 bullies' desks, the class was told they "moved" away from the school. My son's teacher told us a couple of weeks later that she didn't realize the stranglehold those 2 boys had over her class until they were gone. The entire climate of the classroom changed and there was a collective sigh of relief and children started relaxing, laughing, and enjoying school. To be honest, that statement pissed me off as much as the school's lack of reporting and reaction to these bullying incidents. How could a teacher not notice a stranglehold of fear that's been placed on her classroom by 2 hoodlums?!!
My son finished out his school year there and we found a house quickly in a different school district so he would never have to attend that school ever again. By that time though, the damage was done. My son was forever scarred. We thought that moving him out of that school and putting him in a great school would erase the incidents from his mind. My how simple-minded we were.
For over half of his first year of 4th Grade, he secretly lived in fear. He was afraid to get close to anyone at the school for fear that someone would try to hurt him. He trusted NO teacher, classmate, administrator, or school personnel. None. The hurt still lingered and it was etched into his heart.
He did a great job of hiding his hurt. We knew he was scared when he started that year but we didn't realize at that time how deep the fear ran. In January of that school year, we still weren't seeing "our son", so we decided to seek counseling for him from both the school and our church. Within a couple of weeks we saw signs of progress. When we saw the first natural smile and real, unforced laugh from him in over a year, it brought us to tears.
For those who think a child that age will just "get over it", you're grossly mistaken. 3 years later he still remembers how he felt. 3 years later he still remembers the violence like it happened yesterday. 3 years later he still remembers the teacher doing nothing to protect him. No, a child will never just "get over it".
3 years later I still remember how I felt. 3 years later I look back and see all of the things that I could have done better and earlier. 3 years later I look back and my heart aches as I say "If only I had......". There are so many things I wish I would have done differently but the past can't be changed. All I can do is acknowledge my failures and move forward with a new level of knowledge and commitment.
My son is now in middle school and doing well. He continued to wear the cross necklace we'd bought him as his touchstone. For my son, that necklace became a symbol of Jesus giving him the strength to fight back with amazing force, with the will and strength of character to overcome the psychological effects of all he endured.
Last Friday that cross broke in half while he was at school. My son told me it was almost like Jesus was telling him that that part of his life was over and it was time to move forward. This weekend we are taking him shopping for a new cross necklace. While the last cross was a reminder of protection, safety, and comfort, this new one will include hope, thankfulness, and a happy future.
If you or someone you know is being bullied, don't stand by silently hoping it will end. It won't, it usually just gets worse. Get help. Tell someone. If you're a parent of a child being bullied, scream loud and keep screaming until the violence ends. Take it to whatever level you need to to stop the violence. If you don't know what to do, go to the government's website www.stopbullying.gov. There is a list of resources all the way up to the governmental level to help you end the violence. It's time for this violence to end and for children to no longer be victims.
What is the world's longest umbilical cord? The cell phone.
I saw a Kindergartner carrying a cell phone at my kids' school the other day. He was texting his parent, who was already in the school's pick-up line, to find out how far back she was and how long he'd have to wait for her to arrive at the pick-up zone.
I love my kids more than life itself and maybe I'm old school, but when I drop my kids off at school, I really don't want an open line of communication with them. When I pick them up from school, we have a nice face-to-face conversation about their day. I get to hear all about the amount of gas they passed, what little Johnny did on the playground that embarrassed all the girls, and how little Sally makes them gag at lunch because she refuses to chew with her mouth closed.
I'm pretty sure if my kids had a cell phone in elementary school, I'd receive picture texts all day long showing them standing in line for the water fountain, waiting their turn to use the restroom, or what little Sally looks like with her mouth full of food.
A mom told me she likes to text her child during the day and tell them she loves them. To keep up with the Jones' without a cell phone, I got the idea to send a Post-It note in my children's lunches that said "I Love You!". When I picked them up from school that day, they were so embarrassed by my gesture, they had their jackets over their heads so no one would recognize them. I decided not to ask if it was also because I'd cut their sandwiches into the shape of a heart.
Another mom told me she volunteers at the school every single day and, to show her support of her child's education, sits with her child through a number of the child's classes. I went up for my kids' class party and within 15 minutes I was ready to run for the hills. My escape was thwarted though when my bum became wedged in the little kid-sized chair. After several failed attempts to get up, I had to ask another mom to hold the chair while I tried to get up. My exit from the chair was about as graceful as a combined episode of "I Love Lucy" meets "The Three Stooges".
After that episode, I realized I'm not meant to keep up with the Jones'. I throw my kids' sandwiches in their lunch box and usually end up smushing their drink on top of their cookies. If I've remembered to include in their lunch the four basic food groups, a drink, and a napkin, then I'm doing pretty good.
I support their education by hounding them to do their homework every day. There is a lot of gnashing and grinding of teeth, pulling of hair, spilling of tears, and begging that happens every single day............ and that's just on my part.
No, I wasn't cut out to be a helicopter parent who hovers over their child's every decision and move. I am just your regular average parent. I am thrilled with my children's successes and I try to raise them up through their failures. I have hope that one day they will instinctively know when life throws a curve ball and knocks them down, they can raise themselves back up on their own two feet. I pray they both know I will be standing on the sidelines cheering them on every step of the way....... without having to text it to them while they're in school, or sit through their classes with them.
by: Christie Bielss
While waiting for my kids to get out from school, I've noticed there are 4 types of drivers in the school pick-up line. The First-in-Liner, the Waiter, the Slacker, and the dreaded Aggressor.
The First-in-Liner is the parent who is always at the school first to pick up their child. The First-in-Liner arrives an hour early and can usually be observed taking a quick afternoon nap while waiting for the children to be released. When you pull up behind them, they wake up just long enough to give you the perfunctory nod of approval in the rearview mirror for having become second in line. It doesn't matter how early you get to school to try and beat the First-in-Liner, they always beat you to the punch. It's like they have a 6th sense which notifies them of a potential interloper. They will end their day especially early just so Sally-Jo can't usurp their place in line.
Then you have the Waiter. This is not the person who serves you in a restaurant, it's the person who arrives early enough to be between 4th and 30th place in line. These are the people that the Slacker and Aggressor find most annoying due to the vast amount of space they leave between themselves and the vehicle in front of them. They are also the ones that park their vehicle and walk over to their friend's driver's side window and strike up a conversation. Their conversation will continue, much to the Aggressor's annoyance, even when the kids have been released and the pick-up line is moving. On many occasions, they are the ones who get honked at by an Aggressor because the pick-up line will have moved up 4-5 car lengths while the Waiter sits there oblivious to the world moving around them.
Next up is the Slacker. This is the driver who, after the first week of school, has decided they do not want to wait through the pick-up line right at release time and are always the last ones to arrive. This driver is the reason why so many notes come home from school asking parents to be "prompt" when picking up their kids. The Slacker's kid is always the one you see sitting on the school steps with their head in their hands, grumbling about how every other parent can make it on time but their own. When their ride does finally arrive, you can hear the child asking their parent "So, what made you late today?".
And last, but not least, is the Aggressor. There are 2 forms of Aggressor and both are the most disliked drivers of them all. First up is the one who drives around the cars in the pick-up line and finds the spot that one of the Slackers has left wide open. With cat-like reflexes, they whip their vehicle into the open spot and then give a little wave in their rearview mirror thanking the Slacker for having given them a great spot in line while saying "Serves you right Slacker!". The Slacker, and everyone behind the Slacker, is then left muttering under their breath about what kind of person would cut in line at their age.
The other Aggressor is the one that everyone finds annoying. This Aggressor will honk their horn and yell at the Waiter to get them to move their car forward 6 inches. When this Aggressor gets up to the area for their child to climb into their vehicle, this driver doesn't even wait for the vehicle door to be closed before they floorboard the gas pedal while yelling for their child to put their seatbelt on and hold on because they've got to beat the "idiots" to the exit or, heaven forbid, they'll be stuck there for another 3 minutes.
As for me, I'm none of the above. I've decided it's way more fun to watch these daily battles from the safety of my car, which is parked in the school parking lot. Which one are (or were) you?
by: Christie Bielss
Yesterday seemed to be the day for kid trouble. From them waking up cranky, to coming home from school picking at their siblings, to driving their parents insane with the:
"He's touching me!"
"She started it!"
"I did NOT!"
"DID!"
"NOT!"
"DID TOOOOO!"
"DID NOOOOOTTTTTT!"
Oy!!!
The last time my kids drove me this close to the brink of having the men in little white coats take me away was right after our daughter was born and we drove to a family get-together several hours away. Being only a few weeks old, we were concerned with how well our infant would handle being strapped into a car seat for that length of time.
Things were going along so well on the drive to the family function, our worries were for naught. To our great delight, the baby slept the entire way. If we hadn't been so sleep deprived, I think our parent spidey-sense signals might've alerted us to the fact that the baby wasn't sleeping innocently, she was taking a power-nap so she'd have super-human powers later to take over the world and suck all of our brain cells.
Unaware of our pending doom, we relaxed and spent several hours enjoying being in the presence of family before it was time to load up the kids and head home. After lots of running and playing, we expected our 2 year old to be exhausted and sleep the whole way home. Our new baby had handled everyone holding her and had stayed awake for most of the visit, so we were confident she would as well. Our spidey-sense was lulled into complacency and we didn't know what was about to be launched our way.
We didn't even make it 1 minute down the road when we heard the baby "Puh-tooey" her pacifier halfway across the minivan..... and that's when the drive from the most nether regions of the earth's core began. She started crying and got louder by the second. We pulled over and fed her, and she fell asleep but as soon as the buckle snapped on her seatbelt, she awoke and started wailing again. We decided to use the age-old wisdom of letting her cry it out. I bet whoever invented that had a great pair of ear plugs - which we did NOT have in the car. Mike asked "How long can a newborn cry when there's the constant motion of the car to soothe her and baby Beethoven playing as mood music?".
We found out. About 45 minutes later and with her wailing ever louder, Mike turned around in the front passenger seat, found the baby's pacifier and plopped it back in her mouth. He gave a victorious grunt and just as he was turning to sit back down, you could hear "PUH-TOOEY"....she'd spit the thing out again. With a grumble he turned around again, found the pacifier and plopped it back in her mouth. He no sooner took his hand away when she spit it out again and started wailing. And then the 2 year old starts chiming in "Dada, make it stop!"
As the battle of baby and pacifier vs. 40 year old grown man waged, the 2 year old saying ever louder "Make it stop!" and with as much willpower as I could to try to stop it, I couldn't contain a small fit of laughter that bubbled to the surface. A dirty look and a cranky grumble to "drive faster" luckily were all I got in return. Mike finally gave up trying to sit in his seat, or to even let go of the pacifier. For the next 1.5 hours he had his knees in the front seat with his back hunched over like the Hunchback of Notre Dame and with one hand was holding the pacifier in the baby's mouth, and using his other to brace himself so his head would quit bouncing off the car's ceiling. With fits of grumbling erupting every so often and the constant battle of man vs. pacifier, I could not contain my laughter. I started giggling which erupted into a full-fledged laughter when Mike shot me a look. That really got me going.
By the time we got home I had obviously lost all brain matter from listening to the battle that was waged and was laughing so hard I had tears running down my face. If the men in little white coats had seen me, they'd have surely taken me away. When we arrived home and I took the baby out of the carseat, she immediately stopped crying and fell into that long-awaited exhausted slumber we'd all prayed for on the drive. It took Mike a good 20 minutes before he was able to unkink his back and get the circulation to return to his legs so he could exit the car. And with a "next time I'M doing the driving!" he collapsed in his recliner. We didn't do much travelling after that trip.....
by: Christie Bielss
