The Big Bully!

Aiden has been especially grumpy the past couple of days, particularly when talking about school. I knew something was probably up, but have learned from experience that it's best to let him bring it up. Finally this morning, while screaming that he just couldn't go to school anymore, he told me what has been going on.

"I'm being bullied, mom". Now my brain goes immediately to some big kid picking on my poor moderately scrawny kid. I'm picturing him being threatened within inches of his life or being given swirlies in the bathroom or having his lunch shoved up his nose when no one is looking. My blood is boiling that someone would bully my kid.

In my effort to be sympathetic, I ask "Can you tell me who is bullying you?". Big tears come. "It's Taylor." Taylor? Who the heck is Taylor? I've never heard of him before. I ask him to tell me more about Taylor. "SHE sits by me in class."

Great! He's being picked on by one of those mean girls. She's probably poking fun at his rather large ears (he gets that from my side of the family) or maybe it's about all of his freckles (also from me, and I LOVE them) or perhaps even his clothes. You know how girls can be. Just mean, right? Again, trying to be sympathetic, I ask "Well, what is she doing that is bullying you?". More big tears. "She's saying untrue things about me that are hurtful". I knew it! Mean girl, I tell you.

"Can you tell me what she says about you that are untrue?" I'm bracing myself for the worst. Maybe she'd say he lives in the ghetto, or his mama is so fat she buys new refrigerators so she can wear the boxes, or or or...well, something just awful.

He buried his head in his pillow and just yelled and yelled nothingness. I finally calmed him down and said, "I need to have you tell me what she is saying so I can help make it better". Finally, he told me what the bullying was about. Are you ready for this?

"She says I have poor penmanship". Yep. That's the bullying he's suffering.

I told him about the cruel stuff I endured as a kid. I grew up in a less conventional home and was always poor. I had Salvation Army glasses, tacky clothes, bad hair, teeth with a big gap in them, and a last name that was rather easy to make fun of.

He finally decided to suck it up and go to school. Crisis averted. But, really? Penmanship? Really? Here I was all ready to stick up for my kid for the long haul when all he really needs is a better pencil sharpener. Nice.

He Said WHAT??!?!

There is a scene in the movie, "A Christmas Story" where Ralphie is trying to help his dad change a tire by the side of the road. He was holding the hubcap which was full of nuts and bolts, and his dad nudged him sending the whole thing flying into the air. At that very moment, Ralphie says "Oh fuuuuuuuuuuudge". Only he doesn't say fudge. Later, while he's sucking on the large bar of yellow soap his mom put in his mouth, he's instructed to tell his mother where he heard the word. He tells her he heard it from his friend, Flick. Immediately Ralphie's mom calls Flick's mom and tells her what Flick had taught Ralphie to say (It wasn't really Flick, by the way. Ralphie learned it from his dad, but didn't have the heart to say that.) Over the phone you hear the other mother exclaim, "WHAT?!?!" And then weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth from Flick as his mother begins disciplining him with a heavy hand.

Why do I tell you this? Well, there was an incident yesterday. Number One came home from school deeply distraught. I asked him what happened. "I said a bad word at school." "Oh, well what did you say?" "I'm not allowed to say it." "Well, what did it start with?" "F".

WHAT?!?!?! You said WHAT at school?!?!? I have to say I was proud of myself for not completely freaking out on him and beating him to a bloody pulp. The desire was there, though. We do NOT use that language here, or even watch it on tv for that matter. I will say that my birdie finger has gotten itchy on occasion, but that's about it. Mostly. Still, no F words here.

Apparently, he and another kid were trying to show how cool they are and were just throwing around profanity...in front of a teacher! Hello?! Dude, if you're going to drop an F-Bomb, at least make sure you're not in the company of someone who could potentially haul your sorry butt to the principal's office.

I required him to tell me where he'd heard it. It was the same kid he's gotten into trouble with before. His teacher and I agree that he is no longer allowed to hang out with that kid. He also had to write a letter of apology to the teacher he swore in front of. Lastly, he knows that if he EVER says that word again, he will be washing his mouth out with vinegar.

The F-Bomb. My fourth grader dropped an F-Bomb at school yesterday. Lovely.

Yeah. I'm Proud

I don't think this post requires much explaining. Do you?

A Rewarding Experience

(No clue what is up with his goofy face in this picture).

I wanted to teach Number One a lesson in work ethic. Homework with his is always a nightmare because he insists that "it's good enough". He doesn't tend to check his work, doesn't worry about the quality of his penmenship, and just generally drives me nuts about it.

This past semester, I decided that I was going to stop checking his homework, stop hounding him about the quality of his writing, and stop making sure he'd even done his work. I was going to leave the responsibility squarely on his shoulders. The rule was that, if his grades dropped, he'd be grounded until they came back up. I was going to teach him! *insert evil laugh here*

I was so excited the day report cards were set to come home. Finally, I'd have the chance to show him the importance of doing your best the first time. Instead of looking like the lame obsessive mom, I'd be the one who is RIGHT. It was a well thought-out plan.

As he walked in and handed me his report card, I invited him to come sit by me while I looked it over. This way, we could have a heart-to-heart about hard work. I opened the report card, and was stunned. Stunned and proud. Number One made honors. Honors!! His state standardized reading test results were in there, too. Perfect score. Not one question missed.

How the heck can I teach my kid that I am always right when he's the one who is right?!! How can I teach him that you always have to work hard at everything you do when academic learning comes so easily to him? *sigh*

Today, he was rewarded for being the brilliant mind that he is. At his school award ceremony, he received the reading award. I'm not shocked to see him get a reading award because he is really a voracious reader. It's a gift for him. He was able to stand with the students who earned honors and with the students who had perfect attendance as well as with the students who had met their reading goals.

I didn't get my teaching moment, but I got my learning experience. When left to his own devices, Number One has shown me that he's going to be just fine. He is ready to take on his own educational responsibilities without his mom breathing down his neck all the time. As a parent, I can't think of much of anything more rewarding than that. Good job, Number One!!!

Yeah. I'm so proud.

I asked Number One to let me take some pictures of him for my blog today. This is what he gave me. Somehow I don't see him getting many dates in the near future. Believe it or not, this kid is supposedly gifted.

Happy Birthday, Number One

Number One turned nine this past Tuesday. Nine! Where did the time go? It seems like just yesterday that I found out I'd be a mom for the first time. I still remember our first night home with him and wondering when his mom would be coming to pick him up. We've come a long way since then.

Of all my children, he's the one who challenges me the most. I think that's because he's most like me. He knows what he wants and isn't afraid to go after it. He's so strong-willed that it drives me completely nuts and makes me proud all in the same breath. He makes me crazy while at the same time compelling me to be a better person and a better mom.

He's also a brilliant student and has been in the gifted program since first grade. He made the honor roll with absolutely no effort. I swear knowledge just comes to him. On the reading part of the standardized testing for our state, he didn't get one single question wrong. Who does that?!!? I'm curious to see how he'll do on the math part in April. (By the way, the brilliant part of him is something he gets from his dad, and certainly not from me.)

We told him we'd be having a smaller party this year. Money and time were a factor, but I just thought it'd be better to do something small so he could really enjoy whoever he did have over. I'm glad we kept it small because the weather didn't hold out for us. We were going to set up the bounce house and play outside, but it was 44 degrees and raining. Instead, I took them to the dollar theater to see Inkheart.

Number One hates cake because of his egg allergy, so we let the kids build their own sundaes instead. Let's face it. That's a ton more yummy anyway. The kids had a great time, my house was trashed, and all was well at the end of the day. His friend, H, gave him some walkie talkies which he LOVES. His other friend, D, gave him enough money to buy a new book at the book fair. Number One is a voracious reader, so I can't think of a better gift for him.

As for us, we took him out to eat on his actual birthday and gave him a watch and some deodorant. I can't decide which one he was more excited about, silly kid. Then, just before his party, we gave him a bike he's been just aching to get and some safety gear for the bike and his skateboard. Part of the beauty of having a smaller party was that we had more money to get him a bigger gift this year.