the calm after the storm

So, today is my birthday and I was super happy that I got to start my day off with my sister, niece, and new little nephew here!  It was so nice to be able to see them, though the circumstances could’ve been better.  Isn’t that how it goes though? We go on, wishing we could make time, figure out how to work out a visit, etc. then something happens; a birth, a death, an illness, and we finally make it happen.  With gas prices, kids, school, and life getting so busy, we hardly see each other.

My father went in the hospital on Friday, and finally came home last night. I’m glad going to the hospital isn’t on my “to do” list for today.  On Easter (Sunday), we had a nice morning with the boys.  I had all of the food prepared, started the ham, and jumped in the shower.  I got out about noon, got a phone call from the hospital that my dad wanted to see me. I asked the nurse to let him know I was showering then I would be over. My plan had been to finish the food, make him a plate, go visit, then come home and have dinner with the family.  Well, that apparently wasn’t going to work for him!  So about 10 minutes later, I got a call back from the nurse, apologizing all over herself that he had checked himself out!  WHAT?!  I was panicked.  So Richard took my car to go find him, and I stayed home, incase he got a cab.  Well Richard found him first.  Dad’s plan was to come home, get his car, and drive off to be alone, and die. He was in a horribly depressed state of mind and I knew that.  I wasn’t going to let his state of mind influence this decision.  So I told Richard to tell him that if he tried to drive I would call the police, because he was endangering other people at that point as well. 

Mind you, all this time he was having an active heart attack!  When I was in the hospital the day before, and he took out his oxygen, his levels dropped over 20 points!  I was afraid he would just keel over at any point! 

So my husband stayed with him and finally convinced him to admit himself again.  Except he had to go in through the ER ALL over again. Wait for a bed to open, all over again.  Complain about the wait, all over again. Well, you get the drift. All the while he is cursing me for taking him in, in the first place.  Swearing he’d never tell me again if he wasn’t feeling well.  It was ALL MY FAULT!

I didn’t see my husband until 11pm on Easter night.  The kids and I ate dinner, though they didn’t want to.  They wanted their daddy.  On Monday I went to the hospital with back up! My sister drove down to help me talk some sense into him.   Of course the first thing he says is “I could’ve been home for Easter if you hadn’t made me come in here!”  I’m surprised I had any tongue left with all the biting I was doing.  I have a lot of patience and tolerance for outbursts, I’ve had practice with my son, and I get that sometimes it isn’t easy to control.  All the same, there were times I was snapping at him, I was shocked by what he said, and I really wanted to walk away and not look back.  The hospital started him on a medication that helped to stabilize his mood, and it was like the clouds parted, the sun shined through, and there was peace.

We had a counselor meet with him.  That seemed to help a lot (Well that and the medication).  He finally agreed to have the procedure done. Then we got the insurance squared away and he was shipped off to the VA hospital.  We went that night to make sure he was okay and to warn the doctor and nurses about his “escape” on Sunday.  We encouraged them to keep him especially comfortable. Ultimately he was scared, frustrated, and having really bad anxiety, and he was raging about it. But he did well there, and we were able to head home, knowing he was okay.

So they did the angio and his heart looked okay.  They didn’t need to do any other procedures and got him set up on his heart medications, again.  We went and picked him up yesterday afternoon.  Today he is kind of tired and sad. 

I’m sitting here alone in the house, and it’s quiet.  I’m bummed my sister and her family can’t be here longer but I really enjoyed having them here.  It meant a lot to not feel so alone in all of this.  Words cannot describe how horrible he was acting so at least I know someone else saw it and saw how bad it got.  I’m tired, I’m relieved. 

This afternoon I have an appointment with my Rheumatologist to find out the results of my most recent blood tests.  So I’m hoping that goes well.  

Ultimately I’m really grateful for my kids, they were troopers through all of this.  They are so used to me being here and making sure everything works out.  I’m thankful for my husband for being super supportive and taking the time off of work to do all of the things I normally do.   I’m thankful that my sister came down to help me with all of this.  I’m thankful that my niece gave up her Spring Break to spend most of it sitting in a hospital or a car, and for all the laughter she helped us share!  And I’m thankful for my nephew, because well he made me smile with his immense cuteness!

I guess even with as crappy as everything was this week, there still is a silver lining.  I’m glad my dad is okay, I’m hoping this encourages him to get some help.  I realized that hundreds of miles doesn’t mean I’m not close to my sister and her kids.  There were so many good things in amongst the bad. Though I wouldn’t want to have to do this again, the outcome helps to cope with it.

Epiphanies

Yesterday was a hard day.  It was also an incredible learning experience. It is amazing how much perspective can change the way we think about things. People don’t realize this.  From one person’s perspective they may see my son as a spoiled, bratty child. Surely, anyone who has passed by us in the grocery store as he sobs and pushes the cart, because he can’t get a toy, has allowed their mind to wander there.  Yet those who can see things a little differently realize that every struggle is a learning experience, a lesson in self control.  They see that he really is a sick little boy with a mom who is reaching out to try to teach him, instead of punish him.

Yesterday morning my father had a heart attack. Well either in the night or during the day, no one knows for sure.  After half an hour of arguing with him, I won and took him to the Urgent Care.  When we arrived, they checked him out and sent him to the ER without hesitation.  I had the boys with me and I can proudly say that in my haste, the boys handled themselves quite well.  They even sat like big boys while I went back and gathered my dad’s personal belongings.  It showed me just how much Tre has grown as a person. I was able to count on him to watch over his little brother and not create trouble. 

Well, a friend of mine was able to get the boys from me and then I headed over to the hospital.  It took me a little while to find my dad, but I did. They had him out in a hall way, hooked up to the monitors. There was a Sheriff guarding a room next to ours.  There were people crying, babies screaming, men cussing, it was a rather overwhelming experience.  I should probably confess I hate hospitals. Just driving up I felt my breathing change.  Yet, because I would never want to be alone in one, and I know how bad my dad’s anxiety is about hospitals, I stayed at his side.

Growing up, my dad was not a happy go lucky kinda guy.  He had a temper that he has learned to better control over time, but it certainly is still there. I would be lying if I said it was easy to deal with him. I have seen sides of him that have been hard to forget and forgive.  Yesterday I saw glances of that person that shamed a little girl.  I felt the little girl inside of me cowering, embarrassed and ashamed.  When the doctor came in and said that he would have probably had a better result from his bypass in 2000, had he ate better, exercised more, and not smoked, he wasn’t hearing any of it.  First he was rude to the doctor.  I was aghast. Then the doctor tried explaining himself again, dad told him to shove it, more or less. Then he rolled over, turned off his hearing aid and said “I’m not listening to this crap!” It was so ridiculous, I almost laughed (not in a haha funny kind of way).  I put my hands over my face, and slid down in my chair.  There was no rock to crawl under. That little girl inside of me was horrified and terrified. Somehow I felt responsible for his actions.  Then he looked at me and snapped “I TOLD YOU I DID NOT WANT TO COME HERE!”  So I got up and walked out.

I stood outside the room, in tears.  In disbelief really.  Through the day I heard him say things like “Just let me die,” “These people are idiots,” all the while I smoothed things over. I explained his behavior to the nurses, told them he had anxiety.  Tried to make sure he was comfortable.  But when he yelled at me, my compassion about ran out.

I had encouraged them to address his anxiety promptly when I arrived and they had.  As I stood there in tears, I put two and two together. His anxiety med was wearing off.  After the doctor coming out and comforting me, I went to one of the nurses. I told her that she should do us all a favor and give him more anxiety meds because otherwise things would get more uncomfortable for all of us.  She smiled and said “I’m never too old for advice!” Once again the anti-anxiety meds did the trick.

It was about then I started seeing a parallel.  Things started making sense and I saw my dad in a new light.

I went outside and called my husband, since there was no cell service in the ER.  I stayed out about ten minutes. When I went in they said he’d been asking for me.  When I went in he was angry because they had woken him up to take his blood and then just threw his food on his lap (his words, not mine).  So I helped him get settled and eat.  Of course, it wasn’t good enough.

As I sat there watching him, I saw my son. I saw the way Tre acts when he is scared.  Such as the day of the state test. He was terrified and instead of just saying “I’m so scared”, he lashed out in anger.  So I just held in my mind that just like the little girl in me who was trying to hide in his room earlier, when the doctor was there, there was a little boy inside of him that was terrified.  That was the person I had to talk to, the person I had to address.  We all have an inner child.  That person who wants to run first when things are scary.  It was like seeing Tre sitting there, where he didn’t want to be.

The next time he started to get snappy and tell me he didn’t want to be there, I stood up, went to the end of his bed and told him that he had to stop getting mad at me for bringing him, that I did the right thing.  I asked him if he expected me to just let him sit at home and die.  I said I could not have lived with myself knowing that I had not done anything.  And you know what? He didn’t say it anymore.  He grumbled about them taking too long to move him again, and granted it was a long day!

Once they got him upstairs in ICU, there was a huge reduction in sound, and stimuli.  It was a much calmer place.  Once they got him set up, I went in to say good night and to make sure he was okay.  When I went in, he was much more relaxed.  He actually thought about me and said “You should go home to the boys, give them a kiss for me.” It was the first time all day he had thought about me.  I knew he was in a better place mentally.  He was able to let go of his anxiety and fears and be a man again.  The little boy finally felt safe.

Thinking back over the years things started to make sense, as I drove home. The dad that lashed out at people as I grew up was really that scared little boy.  He was desperate to be heard, so he talked louder. When he didn’t get his way, he would get mad.  Then there were other times he handled things so well.

I also saw the amazing similarities between Tre and my father.  They are very much alike in the way they handle things.  In the same way that I cringed when I knew something was going to upset my dad, I do when we walk by something at the store and Tre’s eyes light up.  That “oh boy, here we go!” feeling. 

So what do I do with these epiphanies? I don’t know just yet. Today, I’m going to try to balance dying Easter eggs with the kids, and going to visit him in the hospital. I want him to know he isn’t alone there.  Also, just like I have had to learn that when Tre acts out, I can’t worry or care what people think of me, I have to do the same with my dad. Much in the same way, I may need to explain to people what is going on-  like nurses, or doctors. But it’s not my fault. I’m not responsible for the issues; all I can do is try to understand.  If nothing else, my new perspective will at least help me.

State Testing = Mom Fail

State testing has successfully made me feel like the worst mom ever, a complete failure.  I knew Tre had test anxiety but I didn’t think it had gotten this bad!  Can you tell it’s been a long day?

Since Tre attends a virtual school, they set up testing locations at local churches, where kids from the community go to take the state test.  Tre’s days for testing were today and tomorrow. We talked about it for the last week, preparing for what would happen. I told his teacher about his bad test anxiety and she assured me, all would be well…  (this is where malevolent laughter can be inserted).

We pulled up and he was doing fine.  We had to go and sign in and things were good. We went and sat in the car to wait until the testing would start.  We sat and watched a video on youtube, and he started crying.  First indication that he was worried but I didn’t think it would be too bad and honestly I didn’t know what options I had.  I asked him what was wrong and he just shrugged.  We had a lot of positive talk “You’re going to do fine, just try your best”, so on and so forth.  “I’ll buy you whatever you want for lunch!” even entered the conversation.  Then the kids all started lining up by grade.  I said “oh, come on, let’s go!”  As I enthusiastically exited the car, he just sat there, arms folded.  So I got out and walked across the parking lot and he finally followed.  Slowly he approached where the other kids were, but not without telling me I was a stupid jerk. I told him to be nice and whispered that there were kids around and he didn’t need to talk that way.  He replies “Who freakin’ cares?!” overly loud  (at this point he is trying to rattle me because he is saying things I don’t want him to say and he is doing it in public, he wants to leave).

The teachers there were super sweet and let me walk him to the door where his testing would be held.  He stood against the wall and refused to go in.  He was standing there, holding his breath and shaking his head no, he wouldn’t even talk to anyone!  So the coordinator approached us and told him “Okay mom can sit in the hall, so you can look out the door and see her!”  Nope…  at this point I’m 1)embarrassed 2) desperate 3)scared.  No words can describe how it feels when you know your child needs to do something but there is nothing you can humanly do to force them.

So the poor teacher had to get all of the other students started as Tre adamantly stood against the wall refusing to go in. So finally the teacher said I could sit in the room!  Nope… I went and sat down; finally he walked in, I think hallelujah!  But instead of taking a seat, he just slid down the wall and started sobbing. He was even banging his head on the wall. Bless the other kids in the room, because not one starred or said a word.  About this point I’m tearing up.  The teacher approached me and said that we could go, just let the coordinator know what was going on. She said she had witnessed what had happened and would let the school know that he is not capable of testing at this time. She was ever so kind but her words cut me so deeply.  It was a reality check, just look at how sick my little boy is.

So I apologize and she said it was okay, and even hugged me.  She said that she just couldn’t let him be a distraction to the other kids.  I tried bribing him, threatening him, I pulled out every mommy tool I could think of, and nothing was getting through.  So on the way out I talked with the coordinator who incredibly understood and took responsibility for the school not being better prepared to accommodate us. See in the last three months, we’ve been on home school; we’re just starting with a third teacher. They said it’s not normally like that but since it is, no one is really familiar with us.

She said that she would either say “Unable to complete” on his test or set up a one on one testing between him and a teacher at a local library, so he could feel less anxious. 

I really tried to well prepare him for this.  I was full on crying by the time I got to the car.  I feel responsible for him being clingy to me; I worry if I have made it worse or if his disorder is getting worse.  I wonder is he trying to control the situation? Or is he just desperate to get out of the situation because his anxiety about it is so bad?  In the past he has handled situations like this better but from what I have been told; his bipolar will escalate, because he had such an early onset.

As I’m sitting in the car sobbing, he starts crying, he is soooo sorry and to take him back, let him try again.  He started calling himself stupid, and bashing his fists in his head.  See I wasn’t angry with him… but he was angry with himself.  He wants to be one of those kids that were sitting there taking the test as much as I would like for him to be.  Plus once he was crying in front of those kids, the last thing he wanted to do was be stuck in a room with them for three hours.

It’s hard to accept that perhaps this is just the best he can do.  I wonder what future he will have if he will always be so dependent on me.  What happens one day, when I’m no longer here?  Should I help him by letting him avoid stressful situations if possible, or should I push him to learn to deal with them more?  I didn’t know what else to do this morning.  There was no forcing him in a seat and making him write. Nothing I could have offered or threatened would have changed his response. He was completely shut down. 

I am so filled with this flow of emotions that causes nausea in my gut.  This clenching fear, and concern.  But I kiss him and tell him I love him and that it’s going to be okay.  I told him that we just have to try again and at least now they understand how hard it is for him. Sometimes I honestly have no idea what I’m doing!  Thanks state testing for reminding me of that.

T Ball and Therapy... what an eventful week!

So, the last week in recap?  We have been a busy bunch!  Martial arts practice Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  T-Ball game on Tuesday, practice on Thursday, game on Saturday.  Tre is doing amazing at sparring; I wish he could see himself, maybe he wouldn’t resist going so much. He loves martial arts but some days he just wants to do other things.  He is amazing though and I would hate to let him walk away from something he is so good at. I feel like he would regret it later.

Dominic loves T-Ball.  I watched him out on the field at his game. He was dancing, and flapping his arms. He by far is the most animated player on the team.  No, that doesn’t make him the best player but it is really funny to see him out there swinging his hips around, dancing. Except we had to talk to him about pelvis thrusts on the field, those were a little awkward to explain.  Thanks to LMFAO and “I’m sexy and I know it…” My oldest thinks that is the best song ever… It’s a case of monkey see, monkey do… and Dominic was the monkey “doing” on the field.  A mom looked at me kind of laughing and I had to insert some comment about busting out the dollar bills, she almost fell off the bleachers laughing.

As I sat watching him though, I found myself inspired by him. He was so carefree out there. He was in his own little world, just full of imagination. He was so happy, so alive…  I wish I could experience that feeling a little more often.

Then Saturday afternoon, Tre had his first meeting with a therapist. She was wonderful, very pleasant. Bless her heart. Tre had decided before ever stepping foot in the building that he was NOT going to speak to her.  And he pretty much kept that vow of silence.

Upon walking into the room, he said “Tell her mom, now!” I took a deep breath when she looked at me with her eyebrows raised, wondering what he meant.  As politely as I could, I tried to explain to her that he simply did not want to be there, that he was adamant that he would not be speaking.  (She had her work cut out for her). 

Before going in for our appointment, he did his best to try to fall asleep in the grass in front of the building.  See he’s been doing what I call a passive aggressive technique.  Such as right now, he is sound asleep on the couch, because he knows that is the only way I won’t try to get him to do more school work.  So that was his attempt at not going into the therapy appointment. Until I promptly shook his little butt awake and made him walk in with me.

She got him to speak no more than a dozen words in all the time we were in there.  She had a great approach though. After detailing all of our “Issues” she stopped and said “Okay, now I’d love to hear all the good things about Tre!”  which was a strategy I’ve yet to see anyone take.  So I made my list for her.  He kind of liked it too, I saw the weight lift off his shoulders when he realized she wasn’t trying to make him out to be a monster.

She kind of laughed when she asked me “So, is he oppositional?” I just looked at her like with a big smile and said “Well, yes, you could say that!” At one point he hid his face behind my back, so she couldn’t see him…  then he decided to kick back on the couch and put his head in my lap.  He got up, took my phone out of my purse and said “I’m bored, I’m calling dad”…  ah, the independence.

I explained “No, you cannot call dad, that would be rude, we are sitting here talking…”  But he decided to try anyway.  How’s that for oppositional? J  I’m kind of glad she got to see it though, because so often he is overly composed in these type of settings and I get the look like “What’s wrong with you? You’re son is fine!”

Then randomly mid-chat, he says “I want to go to the game store after this!” I said “No, not today”, which lead to a little debate. Then he wanted a game on my phone, and I finally negotiated and said that if he sat, politely, I would download the game when we were all done.  Something she said to me that I needed to hear was “You really have tried a lot, you must get really tired sometimes”, it was validating.  I sometimes feel really judged by professionals or worry about what I must be missing.

She did ask him what he liked to do and said that next visit she’d like to play a game or do something with him.  They decided to do some origami. He told her about the ninja stars he makes, and she said she would love to learn how to make them. She also told him that she knows how to make a few things, so she could maybe share a few tricks with him.  Then she asked him if he’d come back in two weeks, and he said yes!

Hey, it’s a small victory.  He said he’d go back!  He said he will never, ever, ever go in there alone without me.  I hope one day he is more confident but for now I have to just celebrate his willingness to go.  I was very relieved when he was agreeable about it.  So, it looks like every two weeks I am going to be adding therapy to my to do list.  Which hopefully will lead to good things.  

Some changes for mommy?

So as if there isn’t a lot already going on…  I have been met with a challenge, I guess you could say.  See back a few months ago, while Tre was still in school, I sent in an application for a position as a tutor.  The job seemed appealing, decent pay, flexible hours, etc. It was right up my alley; working with kids, being able to work around my kids was a huge plus!  Well months went by and I had put the thought out of my mind. Balancing T-Ball, home school, martial arts practice, and well life, has kept me VERY busy as of late. 

Well yesterday, out of the blue, I have a message on my phone.  I listen and it’s a callback on my application.  The man on the other end of the recording is explaining how they have reviewed my application and would like to speak with me more.  My mind starts with excitement, THEY WANT ME!  Then enters questioning and doubt.  What about Tre?  His separation anxiety has been really bad.  What about my illness? I’m so tired already; can I possibly take on something else? Then I feel frustration because this is an opportunity I’d like to jump on… what to do? What to do?

So about an hour later, while I’m still bouncing from “good idea” to “horrible idea” in my mind, the phone rings and it’s them again!  So I answer this time, deciding asking some questions would be best.  The guy was excited to catch me and explained more to me.  I have to work 8+ hours a week, that’s it, and the pay is decent. I mean we live on what we make now, so if I had even a little extra coming in, we could save towards a house.  The guy said I can set my own hours…  Wow, I’m getting more excited!

So I spoke with Richard and we agreed that it can’t hurt to try. We’ll be no worse off it I try and it just doesn’t work out.  And hey, it might be good for me to get out of the house, alone, once in a while too!  Now I just have to learn to trust people a little bit. See I can get Dominic home from school, but I’ll have to ask for help watching them between bringing him home, and getting back from my appointments.  I guess that was one of those things looming in the doubting side of my mind. 

It’s hard because I went to college, so I could do something with myself.  While I justify that my education has helped me become better prepared to help Tre, I still sometimes regret not being able to do more with it.  I love being home, don’t get me wrong. I want to be at practices and games, I want to help with homework, and fix booboos.  I want to be the one who wakes my kids up in the morning and the one who tucks them in.  I had to spend a few years missing out on things and I really didn’t want to have to do that again.  But sometimes it’s nice to have an identity outside of being mom.

So, I think we’ve decided that we’re going to give it a go.  I explained to Tre that this is how mommy can help to save money towards a down payment on a house, so we can move into a nicer neighborhood…  we have goals of more property so we can get a quad, and we can have chickens, and a trampoline and a swing set and he loves all of these things.  So when I say that this could help it happen faster, he gets excited. 

On the bright side, summer break is just around the corner.  I can always pick up a few extra hours, since I am not worrying about lesson plans, or making sure Tre has all his schoolwork done.  It will also help me set the pace and figure out what I’m doing!

I don’t’ have the job officially, I still have to do an assessment and background check, but I’m not really worried about those things.  It’s just a matter of figuring out if it is actually possible to do the job.  I guess it’s time to practice what I preach and just try…

Too Little, Too Late

I’m revisiting bullying again… Why? Because there is a need for more focus on the topic!  According to CNN, President Obama is going to be addressing the issue of bullying and I think it is long overdue, though I’m thrilled to hear that someone is finally talking about it! 

I am just sickened right now and while I’m in the “heat of the moment” I’m pulling out my soap box, dusting it off, and stepping up.   I just read a news story online about an eighth grade girl who, after years of being the victim of bullying, told her dad good night, went upstairs and hung herself.  This was a girl that took her own life because of bullying, or to reiterate what her sister said, the people who bullied her, killed her. 

The news story is here http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2112933/Eden-Wormer-Last-words-tragic-schoolgirl-14-hanged-relentless-bullying.html.  The police say that the children who were the bullies don’t seem to have pushed it to a point that seems punishable by law.  Yet this young girl’s life is gone.

If a parent were verbally pushing their child to a point of hurting themselves, that is considered “verbal abuse”.  That is considered just as devastating as physical abuse.  So why then, is it so easily dismissed when it’s children being verbally abusive?!  Just because a person does not resort to weapons, or hitting, does not make them less culpable of being abusive. 

I don’t think anything is going to be changed overnight but until bullying starts being taken more seriously, there are going to be more senseless deaths.  We send our children to school, in hopes that they learn to make friends, handle conflict, and adapt to the social intricacies.  We expect that the school will provide some type of supervision, and intervene when there are problems.

When Tre was in first grade, a boy slammed his head into the lockers; Tre was terrified of this child. Not much was done to curb this child’s behavior, probably because he was still so young.  I ended up having to pull Tre out of public school that year, as well, because his anxiety became so extreme, he would sit and cry every morning. 

Fast forward to the next year, the boy told a number of kids that he was going to bring a gun to school. Despite the teacher going to the Principal, nothing was being done!  So the teacher wrote a letter to the parents of children in that class, explaining what was going on.  While there are confidentiality rules, the thought of this child perhaps hurting one of the students was not something she wanted to be held responsible for.  The teacher faced repercussions for violating confidentiality, but little was done to address the bully issue.

It happens every where. It happens in cities, in small towns, in private schools… EVERYWHERE!  I was even had a co-worker bully me when I was a bartender, even shoving me to the ground one day at work because she didn’t like what I was wearing.  My boss just looked the other way.  For weeks I dreaded going to work, seeing her, and having to put up with what she said.  I was an adult and I wasn’t sure how to handle the problem. I can only imagine how a child being bullied feels, when he or she goes to the Principal, and the occurrence is minimized.

The old adage, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me” is a bundle of crap!  Words hurt, words echo in our minds, long after they have been said.  Words gouge our heart and bruise our soul.  No matter how confident, happy, educated, or loved we are, words can hurt us.  We cannot simply love our children enough to keep bullies from hurting their feelings.

According to a study at Yale University, bully victims consider suicide 2 to 9 times more often than non-victims.  At least half of all suicides were linked to bullying, according to a study in Britain.  “According to statistics reported by ABC news, nearly 30 percent of students are either bullies or victims of bullying, and 160,000 kids stay home from school every day because of fear of bullying” (Bullying Statistics, 2009).  Suicide that is connected to bullying includes different forms of bullying; physical bullying, emotional bullying, cyberbullying, sexting, and/or when messages or photos of a person that are suggestive or nude are circulated (Bullying Statistics, 2009).

So each day kids are staying home from school, because of bullies.  This opens a whole other can of worms for me.  See, right now, schools are really focused on the price tag. Each child, in his or her seat, each day, means money for the school.  So each time a child is absent, the school loses that money. I understand the importance of attendance, in relationship to education. I feel, however, there are things that are more important than money.  Things like my child’s health, safety, and well-being, be it physical or emotional.  Schools are encouraging people to send their children to school, sick or not. Schools even go to the point of demanding parents attend meetings if their child misses too much school.  Yet, little is being done to remedy bullying problems.  So wouldn’t a logical argument in fact be to address the bullying problem? If there were a 50% reduction in bullying, that means 80,000 more kids would be in school each day, right?  Posters like the one below declare “Zero Tolerance” when related to weapons; knives and guns, etc.  I think that what is being missed here is that words are weapons too!  Let’s add that to the Zero Tolerance Policy!

Right now people across the nation and Washington DC are saying that Obama has bigger fish to fry than the problem of bullying, but while crisis is brewing around the world, he is turning his focus inward.  Regardless of your opinion of the President, it is commendable that he is taking the time to focus on the subject.  Our kids are the future, they are the leaders of tomorrow, they are IMPORTANT! So much pressure and focus has been put on test scores, schools have kids eating, drinking, and dreaming about tests.  These tests create ratings for schools, and that is important!  Yet, until now, not much has been done to encourage schools to focus on the important thing, the children themselves!  Not everything in life can be based on a test score.

Say a fifth grader gets great test scores in math, is bullied every day at lunch, and kills himself that evening.  Is his test score relevant anymore? The school loves the fact of course, that this student raised their average, but I hope his death is regretted for more than just lowering the average.  Perhaps if some of the time that was spend pressuring the students to do better on the test, were spent on teaching about tolerance, acceptance, compassion, etc. things would not turn out so dismally.  There has to be a balance somewhere.  But until there is an effort to find it, nothing will change.   I am not, to be clear, putting the blame on the teachers.  I know many people who are teachers, and some that have stopped teaching, that are in fact wonderful teachers.  However, the teachers are under great pressure to comply with the expectations of the district, and ultimately their hands are left tied.  I have heard stories of countless teachers approaching school administration about bullying issues that are virtually ignored.

Undoubtedly, if said student does kill himself, the school will call in grievance counselors. The same children, who tormented and bullied the student, will be able to receive counseling. Things will be put on hold, academically, until the children can cope with what has happened.  Does this seem backwards to anyone else? 

Until bullying gets taken more seriously, things are not going to change.  School policies need to start addressing the issue of bullying before it escalates.  Waiting until after the fact, to clean up the broken pieces, is just going to allow for the victim toll to keep rising.

References

Bullying Statistics (2009). Bullying and Suicide. Retrieved March 17, 2012, from http://www.bullyingstatistics.org/content/bullying-and-suicide.html

It's okay to do something you're not good at!

So today’s T-Ball game was rained out.  I think we were all a little relived. We’ve been running around so much lately, it’s nice to spend a rainy day cooped up in the house. 

There is a topic I’ve been chewing on a little bit.  I have been trying to find the right way to explain it.  See Dominic is good at everything.  He really is.  He reads well, he learns quickly, he is a computer whiz, he beats all of his electronic games.  He has great behavior in school, lots of friends, he isn’t shy… he really just is incredibly well rounded.  Then we got to T-Ball, and well he just has a lot to learn.

I sat talking with a mom at our first game and she said that she was going to be taking her son to the park to practice more. It seems like some of these kids have been spoon fed T-Ball since infancy.  Seriously, they’re like mini-pros!   Then there are the kids that are inexperienced, like Dominic.  I told the other mom that I’m glad Dominic is not a natural at T-Ball, I’m glad he has to work for it, and I’m glad to see him have to work towards improving himself.  Why? Because I think it might give him a little more compassion for his brother. 

See lots of things are hard for Tre.  There are many things he is very good at; origami, skateboarding, riding a scooter, etc.  But there are many things that are very hard for him too.  I think this experience of not being naturally good at T-Ball is an opportunity for me to help him understand his brother more, like why Tre doesn’t read so well.

I mean, yes, I want my child to succeed at everything he tries.  It tickles me when I hear that he is doing very well at things.  But deep inside of my heart, I feel like every child should experience a struggle.  I think that parents push their kids towards things they are good at.  I think it is equally important to encourage them to keep trying when there are things they aren’t naturally good at.  Art, music, sports, and things like being social. 

I’m not saying force them to do things they don’t want to do.  I really don’t agree with that.  But we should encourage them to keep trying, even if it is hard.  When I was a little girl, I remember wanting to play softball, so bad!  I practiced and practiced.  Right before try outs, my dad told me that I wasn’t good enough to make the team, I should save myself the disappointment, and not try.  So I didn’t try. I decided at 10 that I wouldn’t be athletic, that it wasn’t my thing. I wish he had encouraged me to at least try.  Ultimately, even if I hadn’t made the team, it’s okay!  It’s okay to learn from those experiences too!  Instead I never knew if I could’ve been good enough, and though I’ve gotten over it, as an adult I vow to not stand in the way of what my children want to do, as long as it is reasonable. 

So, even if Dominic really struggles with T-Ball, it is going to teach him (I hope) to understand what it feels like not to be ahead.  Yes, we are practicing, yes we would like for him to do well, and at the T-Ball level, he is having a blast, which is what matters most.  Though I’m not staying up at night worrying about if he runs to third base instead of first, or to the dug out instead of home plate!   He is learning to be a team player, he is learning that he has to practice, and he is learning that it isn’t always about being good at things but about having fun!