A RUDE awakening via Bullying 101.

Perhaps I am sheltered?  Perhaps I raise my children in said sheltered environment?  I didn't think so.  I was pretty sure we have dealt with our fair share of reality in the last seven or so years. It might sound naive, and I have always been accused as being such so it comes as no surprise, but what the heck are kids thinking these days and where the heck are their parents?!?!??!

For those of you who hadn't heard, Shane was punched in the face at Vista School Thursday morning.  It was by a kid who Shane has had problems with since last year.  Believe it or not the kid is bigger than Shane and I think since he is so big he needs someone close to his size to pick on since bullying a kid too much smaller than him would seem unfair.  Last year there was an incident in the locker room during gym period where the boy attempted to pull Shane's shirt over his head and arms to get him stuck.  Shane fought back and in trying to get away from the boy apparently the boy felt he got hit.  Shane said it was possible but it wasn't intentional - he was just trying to get away.  The p.e. coach didn't get anyone in trouble and the scuffle came and went.  Apparently to the other boy, "Michael", it never went.  Because since the first day of school this year he has been trying to get Shane to fight.  He has sent other boys up to Shane asking Shane if he wants to fight him.  Shane said he didn't.  Wednesday a boy came up to Shane and asked him again if Shane wanted to fight "Michael", Shane again said no.  So Thursday morning "Michael" himself approached Shane in the middle of passing period and confronted Shane saying he had heard Shane was talking "sh*t".  Shane explained he wasn't and that he hadn't said anything.  The boy asked Shane if he wanted to fight.  Shane answered that he didn't want to fight and didn't want any problems.  The kid then punched him.  One hit to the mouth.  Shane didn't fall, didn't go unconscious, and didn't fight back.  Some other boys pushed the bully back before he could get more hits in and Shane was taken to the nurses office.  I got the phone call and at first the nurse seemed only slightly concerned, saying Shane had been hit and that he "might" probably need a couple stitches to his lip.  I jokingly asked if I should bring my "spanking spoon" for Shane - just trying to find out if Shane had started something or needed a consequence at home for fighting.  The nurse told me no and that if anything I should take Shane out for ice cream.  I went down to the school to get him and walked into the nurses office where Shane was sitting with an ice pack on his mouth.  I was holding Abigail so I couldn't get too upset.  I sat down and listened to the principal explain that this other kid was completely at fault and all the witnesses all had the same story- even the boy who hit Shane admitted that Shane said he didn't want to fight.  The boy just said that he had been listening to other kids who were spreading rumors cause they wanted to see the fight and when Shane said no he didn't want to fight the kid just lost his temper and punched him.  They explained that because of the severity of the attack the boy would be suspended for 5 days instead of 3 and that Shane would have no consequences because he had done everything he could to prevent the situation from escalating.  Additionally, they informed me that since calling me they had increased concerns about Shane because he was becoming increasingly confused - asking what grade he was in and who hit him.  I took him to the ER and not two seconds in the car I knew something was wrong.  We got to the ER and the nurse called the cops since it was very obviously an assault.  The cop came, snapped a picture, was dismissive about the severity of the situation and advised me that he should just go "make contact" with the boy and his family.  Shane got five stitches, a cat scan, and was observed for his behavior.  I was informed that his behavior was normal for his injuries and that it could last up to 2 weeks.  We went home and the most difficult part of this experience began.

Shane thought it was Tuesday.  Normal.  Told him repeatedly it was Thursday.  He thought we lived in the house out on Jelly's Ferry with the pool that we lived in last summer.  Explained to him we had moved.  He thought he was in 7th grade and had no idea he played football.  A little scary but I just kept reminding him.  His questions were repetitive... like 6 times a minutes repetitive.  The same question came seconds after me having finished my response.  I only wish that was the worst of it.

He kept asking when he was going to see his dad.  He informed me of the visitation arrangement from last summer, repeatedly.  I gently reminded him he hasn't seen his dad in 8 months and that they don't have visits anymore.  He would cry - like sob - questioning why they don't see him anymore and what happened to their visits.  I would just briefly explain that it was okay, we were okay, and that they just didn't see him anymore.  I could see him think about it, mourn this new loss he was experiencing, and look at me with tears in his eyes and ask again.  "When do we go see dad?  Is it Tuesday?  Don't we see him on Tuesday night and every other weekend?"  And it would begin again.  I would tell him the sad news and he would process it like it was the first time he had ever heard it, he would cry and ask questions, and it was all I could do to not break down.  I had to excuse myself to use the bathroom more than once to pull myself together.  But he would come to the door and knock, and ask through the crack what day it was and when was he seeing his dad and did Uncle Tony still live in Oregon?  He didn't want to be alone, not even as long as it took me to use the bathroom.  The confusion in his eyes broke my heart.  His effort at trying to understand things I was telling him that he couldn't remember was so saddening.  I remember this feeling with Dion when she broke both of her wrists a few months back on Easter.  I remember longing to take the pain from her little body.  But that was physical pain.  The doctors could reset bones, administer pain medicine, and I could serve her ice cream for every meal and that seemed to make the whole ordeal that much more bearable.  This was a different pain; this was a mental pain that I would have given anything to prevent Shane from experiencing.  The only thing that gives me a bit of peace at this point is that he doesn't remember going through that.  He doesn't remember asking me questions or crying or following me around repeating himself.  Thank goodness.  Cause I don't know if I could bear much more.

This boy got suspended from school for 5 days... but was on facebook seemingly bragging about it just hours after his mom picked him up from school while Shane and I were in the ER getting stitches and a cat scan.  Fair?  I think not.  There were several girls on his page saying they had been crying and were upset that he wasn't going to be at school because he was a "great guy".  His sister was on there saying it was okay cause it wasn't "Michael's" fault that Shane couldn't take a hit.  Since when did sucker punching another kid and causing such injury become such a glorified thing?  The article in the newspaper said a boy went to the hospital after getting assaulted by another kid during a fight.... a FIGHT??  Uhmmmm, I beg to differ.  My kid was assaulted... PERIOD.  Not during a fight.  He was cold cocked in the face by a bully.  That's what it should have said in the newspaper.

Anyway, I am not out for blood but I do think there should be consequences... and justice for what Shane had to go through.  The other kid admitted to having anger management issues and says he just lost it.  What happens if he loses it again on another boy who isn't as big as Shane... or if his punch lands a few inches higher on some kids eye or temple.  5 stitches, a concussion, and a 5-day suspension will be a walk in the park compared to what could happen.  Anyway, I am pressing charges, and at times I feel at war with myself over whether or not that is the way to go.  Had this kid and his family approached Shane and I to explain that they were taking this serious, and if I felt like the boy was getting the appropriate consequences and teaching through this experience to give me a sense of safety that it won't happen again - I might be more apt to let them handle it.  But sadly that is not the case.

I won't even go on a rant about whether they should be responsible for medical bills.... or the hundreds and hundreds of dollars invested in Shane's football season (not to mention the amount of work he has gone through in order to play) and the fact that he will now be sitting out for many weeks to assure he doesn't sustain a concussion ontop of a concussion.... okay, the rant is beginning.  lol. Or the fact that he now has to endure an ENTIRE year of school with a constant reminder of what happened and even a persistent fear that it could happen again.  Grrrr!!

Pray that the outcome is a good one to this situation.

Mixed Emotions

What a wreck I am as I sit here to write this.  It was going to be this upbeat, excited, beaming post about how this morning went and how great my kids are.  Yet I can't stop the tears long enough to see the screen.  It's partially cause I just uploaded photos, partially cause when I went to type this I also read the last post I had written about Father's Day, and partially cause I am emotionally drained about other things going on in my life that the smallest thing starts this fountain of ridiculous tears that are constantly messing up my make-up.

I came across this poster this morning:

I wish I had this blown up, framed, and posted on a wall in my home.  This is so me.  This is so my home.

I try to remind myself that although at this point I can't offer my kids a lot of material things, I would go to the moon and back to make sure they have what they need.  Thankfully we have amazing family that helps.  Uncle Justin took them shopping for school supplies yesterday, which was amazing. (Thank you!!) And they got new shoes from Grammie, which was awesome. (Thank-you!!!)  And Shane doesn't have to use his football pants belt to hold his jeans up since he lost 25 lbs cause Grammie got him a new belt in the nick of time. (Shane thanks you!! lol)  And yay for hand-me-downs from the Newman family. (Thank-you Chelsey and Alyssa!)  Does it make me feel bad that I couldn't take them school clothes shopping - uhhhh, yeah.  Is that the end of the world?  No.  They didn't complain.  They never do.  That's what's so amazing about them.  And what makes me sob like someone who just lost their best friend.  My only saving grace are things like that poem that I found up there... I pray that when they are older they don't look back and realize what they didn't have, but instead remembered that one morning on their first day back to school that I got up early to make them pancakes with fresh strawberries, and scrambled eggs... that they barely ate cause they were all so nervous, but so considerately offered to save their plates for after school since they knew I went thru the effort of cooking them breakfast.

They all can't stand not being home all day to love on Abigail.  And I'm sure when she wakes up from her morning nap she will look around for them to come running or jump out from behind things and make her laugh like they all do every time she wakes up and we come walking down the hallway.

This morning Shane said it seems like this is the longest they have gone without seeing Mike, even though he knows it's not, because Shane realizes how many things Mike is missing out on at this time in their lives.  He's been gone for over a year before, this time it's been 8 months since they've heard from him.  Shane wishes Mike could see how hard he is working at football.  He's covered in bruises now that he got his pads and has lost another couple pounds in the last week.  My "good job, Son!!" means a lot to him, but probably pales in comparison to how much it would mean coming from a dad.  The girls already wonder who is going to take them to their father-daughter dance this year.

Despite not having their dad around, despite having recently lost Rory, even in the same clothes as last year - they all piled out of the car this morning, after a quick prayer for good choices, with smiles on their faces ready to "Do This!!" as they put it.  Ready to make friends with someone new who looks like they might need a friend, ready to meet their teachers and work hard, and ready to come home to tell me all about it.... and I'll be right here with Abigail, waiting to hear.


p.s. ~  Despite the seemingly depressing tone of this note I feel super blessed this morning.  I didn't mean for this post to be a sob story or a pity party.  It is our life, a part of it I don't talk much about because it stirs up mixed emotions of failure and hopelessness, a part I know the kids feel and notice but rise above.  I can only sit back in amazement at their resiliency and try to be more like them.

 "My Cup Overflows!!!"