When Some Little S#$t Gives Your Kid a Hard Time and You Don't Punch Them and You Turn It Into a Growing Opportunity For Your Kid

So there's this kid in my daughter's class, and he was in her class last year, too, and how to put this... he's sort of a jerk. And I base this not on secondhand info from my kid, I base this on my own observations because I'm lucky enough to have weekdays off and go on many field trips so I've seen for myself, the kid is kind of a jerk. Now, I can remember last year thinking that, in very general terms, second graders can be assholes. I remember this because I remember talking about this with a friend who has taught second grade and who I believe straight up said, "Second graders are assholes." If your kid was not an asshole in second grade, or if you're thinking, well, mine will NOT be one of those in second grade, more power to you. That's awesome. But I'm just saying they can be.  Third grade doesn't seem to be that way so much but you know, they're kids, and I know my own kid has hormonal changes going on, the type of changes that I didn't see until I was like twelve and she's nine, so I'm sure that's a factor with some of the boys, too. That being said, I stand by my opinion that this kid, we'll call him Jerry (because Jerkface Jerry), is a bit of a jerk. A troublemaker. A pain in the butt. The kid you see on the field trip and think wow, I'm glad that I have MY kid.

So for whatever reason, Jerry has got MY kid on his radar. There have been a couple of little incidents I've heard about where he's being a jerk to her and at least one time where he was encouraging some of the other boys in the class to also be jerky. And I'm like well, he's a boy, they can be so dumb (because really, is it ever too early to let your daughter know this?), just ignore him. Which reminds me of my dearly departed mom telling me this when I was a kid and my little brother was driving me up the wall and I was like well, how about he not be a jerk and then I have nothing to ignore? But her advice was golden: If you want to tease someone and you don't get a reaction, then you're going to stop teasing that person because how fucking boring is that? So this is what I'm going for with the kid.

Yesterday she comes out of class, and I can tell she's been crying, and she says that Jerry said she was "ugly and pitiful." So my first reaction was an honest one. I said, "Wow, that was really jerky of him." Some of her friends appear to check on her and I was like look, do these guys think that about you? No, they don't. And whose opinion matters, theirs or Jerry's? Oh, and I'm not sure if it was yesterday or another time but it came up that Jerry also called her fat. First of all, she's not fat. Second of all, even if she were overweight, eff you, Jerry, for calling her fat. And apparently he started in on his jerkiness by calling attention to the fact that she is not a fan of elevators or heights, because on the last field trip she mentioned this (I was with her in the elevator) and the field trip before that it involved sitting in a balcony.

Anyway, we came home and spent some time cuddling because no matter how much you know some jerk's opinion doesn't matter, it still hurts. Especially when we're super sensitive and my poor kid has my genes so she is SUPER sensitive, which is another reason why she's a great target for Jerry, because he figures he can make her cry. She's not even crying when we're cuddling, but she's bummed. So this makes the mama bear in me want to go to the school, pick up Jerry by the scruff of the neck, drag him over to some bushes, and just leave him there. Because this is my baby and he's hurting her with his words. I said maybe I should say something to him.  And she says, "Yeah, Mom, and use your STERN voice." Which cracked me up because apparently I have a stern voice that comes out on the 4th time I'm telling my kid to do something, and I love that she picked that adjective because it sounds so parental. But then I thought you know what, I'd like to give my kid the tools to deal with this. So here is what we came up with for now: Should Jerry decide to drop a jerk bomb on her, she will just look at him for a minute, and then in the most uninterested voice she can muster, with a blank look on her face, she can say, "Huh. That's interesting." Nothing more. I am hoping her lack of reaction coupled with this condescension that even a nine year old boy should be able to comprehend, that she completely fries his circuits and he deems teasing and/or bullying her to be boring, an exercise in futility because there are no tears and impassioned insults from her (because yes, she is sensitive, but she will also express her feelings and tell you EXACTLY what she thinks of you). 

This morning we're in front of her class and I see Jerry and I swear to goodness that I had this visceral longing to go upside this kid's head. I don't even believe in corporal punishment and I certainly don't believe in handling conflicts with physicality (which is obviously different if someone were in a position being forced to defend themselves which I suppose is a whole other can of worms), but I'm just admitting to all of you that I wanted to clobber this kid. Instead I said, Jerry, have a great day. I know he heard me, but he didn't even meet my gaze. So I said, and this time louder, Jerry. He looks at me. Have a great day. He mumbles, okay. But I'm thinking yes, you little jerk, have a great day so you don't decide to fuck with MY kid because you have your own set of issues. Do I have compassion for Jerry because I'm sure his jerkiness is stemming from stuff that has absolutely nothing to do with  my kid? Yes. Do I still think he is a jerk who better leave my kid alone? Yes.

We're in third grade. When I was in a third grade boys didn't even know I was alive to tease me. I was as quiet as a little mouse and flew under the radar for most of my academic life. But my kid (and yes, I'm biased) is beautiful, she's smart and sassy, and she speaks her mind. She has moments of shyness and moments of extreme sensitivity, but she will not be able to fly under the radar the way her mother did, and frankly, I'm glad about that, even if it means dealing with another Jerry here and there. Or this particular Jerry from now through junior high because at least in high school boys might not be as much into name calling, right? I mean I'm forty-five in June and I know boys still bug me. They still make my heart hurt, they still do stuff or don't do stuff that drives me nuts. But obviously I've got a bigger tool box with which to deal with boynanigans than my nine year old. So I'll continue to be there for hugs and support and advice and encouragement (when she was less than enthusiastic about going to school this morning I played Taylor Swift's "Shake it Off" while she was in the shower), and I will not pick up boys bear-style and drag them away from the classroom and throw them into a ditch made just for jerks. 

Being a kid can be tough. Being a mom can be tough. But I know we'll get through it.

A Shortportant One

Yes, short, and important. Two things my blog posts almost never are.

If you can only pick one thing at which to be good, make it loving people.

It occurred to me last night that I'm not really good at much of anything. I like to sing to and I like to write, but plenty of people are way better at it than I am. I try to do the best I can do at my job (and so far I do well enough that they keep paying me to return, knock wood), but I'm not the best at it and may never be. I can't sew on a fucking button. I mean, I could if I absolutely had to, but it probably would not stay on my pants the entire day. And my house is probably always going to be a mess. And I'm more than likely always going to be a little bit fat (which would be better than being a lot fat like right now).

I am, however, really fucking super great at loving my kid. As she was cuddled up to me last night and I was reading to her because yes, reading to her is still awesome even though she can read, I thought, THIS is where it's at. THIS is the thing of which I'm most proud, that my kid never for a single second EVER doubts how much I love her.

Damn it all to heck, I just put on eye makeup and I'm tearing up like a little crybaby.

Everything we do, especially with our kids but this should go for everyone and everything, we should try to do it with COMPASSION. I'm talking about kids and parenting here, mainly, but you can figure out how to apply this even if you don't have kids and never want to have any of those and if you don't, hey, I get it, because it's a hard job and kids are not for everyone. For. Real. But even if they do stuff that is wrong or bad, we can correct them with love and compassion. It's like, I don't like what you did, but I still love YOU. You're going to have to get your timeout or get grounded or get your phone taken away, but let's TALK about this. And here's why this is bad and so help me, don't you ever do that again!

But I still LOVE you.

If you kick the bucket tomorrow, I GUARANTEE the thing of which you will be the most proud of is not that you are the best at your job or the smartest or the prettiest in your class or that you always win at backgammon or whatever. You will be the proudest of the fact that people you love knew you loved them because you were always telling them and showing them.

Especially your kids. They're not accessories. We're growing human beings. Literally. Like, what a big deal that is.

I know I'm lucky. My kid can be a pain and a diva and dramatic and emotional and unreasonable. But mostly she is sweet and good and full of joy and the light of my life. So loving her is a piece of cake. I know this. But still, for some reason I just felt like I wanted to say today that

the thing you should want to be the best at is loving. Especially your kids.

P. S. Sorry, I thought this was gonna be shorter, I really did!!

The Good, The Bad, and The Other Stuff

I was going to be all committed to posting three times each week, because I figured I have three days off and at some point during each of those days I should be able to pull something out of my a$% to put on paper, figuratively speaking. 

Hey, for those of you who write, remember when stuff like this would have been done at a typewriter? The first screenplays I ever wrote when I was a teenager were on a Brother word processor... at last I think that's what it was... Like, it was a typewriter, but fancy, because I think there was a little screen that showed what you were typing and I think you could save your work? Sheesh, I'm so senile. And I remember my white typewriter, and I would haul it with me if Mom and I went on a road trip, and I was like 20-something, sitting in a hotel room, smoking and typing, while Mom was a slot machine, smoking and dropping in nickels (remember, this was the OLDEN days). And there was that one word processor I had where I could save stuff on discs... I mean sheesh, I don't think I even had a computer until 1998 or so, and it was a hand-me-down from my bestie, Spook. Wow. Now it's so much easier to write now, technologically-speaking, and I am amazed when I think of all the writing I got done in the olden days, when I had to insert paper and back space with the white-out corrector to fix errors and holy heck. Just wow.

I have a sick baby at home with cabin fever. I love her to bits but she is driving me a little bit nuts. One of the reasons the words aren't flowing this week.

Also, it's been a heckuva a week. Starting Monday. The kind of week where certain parts of my life are turned upside down.

Here is what I have learned, and some of this stuff I already knew, of course:

I have the best friends and family in the world.
I'm sort of strong, like emotionally.
Life is not fair.
Banging your head against the wall hurts and is completely not at all useful.

And most importantly, my number one priority in life for the past six and half years is my daughter. And she will ALWAYS be my number on priority, period. Nothing is more important to me than her happiness and well-being.

So when you have a ball-busting few days, the good part is that you do see how much people love and care about you, you do see what you're capable of, and you force yourself to look at all the things that are in your life that are good and wonderful.

My coffee was too strong. Typing is a little hard because my fingers are sorta shaky. Not. Good.

Anyway, I have a lot of stuff in my life that brings me joy. I laugh. A lot. 

Curling up in a ball and crying about the s$%t that just ain't right is pretty ineffective. Though once in a while, you just need to curl up in a ball and cry about the s$%t that just ain't right. Then dry your tears and hug someone up who loves hugging on you, and then think about the joyful stuff.

So today is about making plans and being constructive. Like I'm gonna clean my house because it's a MESS. 

I'm also going to exercise. I've been with a head cold or sinus stuff, I swear, off and on for like 5 weeks. Not kidding. And it's taken the wind out of my sails a bit and made it easy for me to be lazy. Well, I need some endorphins. I need to feel STRONG, physically. I did 30 minutes of Wii yoga the other night and it was ridiculously therapeutic. And like, at the beginning I couldn't touch my toes and at the end I could, so there you go. Stretching my body out and breathing is soooooooooooooooo good for me.  I have to do it more often.

What's the point of this post? I have no clue. To let you guys know if you are having a f$%ked up week you're not alone, that could be one point. Also because writing stuff down sometimes helps my brain. Maybe someone will read this and exercise today, or do some yoga. That would be awesome. Mainly, if you are reading this, I encourage you to find some joy. Feel joyful, be joyful, spread it around. Cry if you need to, and then get all joyful if you can. 

If you need hugs, please take these cyberhugs I'm sending now. Feel that? That's for you! I hope it helped! Talking to you guys always helps me out, so thanks!