Tomorrow is back to school for the kids.
Gracie is super excited to go into second grade and Bobby is semi-excited to enter into fifth grade.
I’m torn. I’m excited for them to be excited but of course I’m bummed that they are growing up so quickly. I obviously am having emotional issues with dogs and people in my life getting older.
I worry about kids in general these days. Things are way different now then they were when I was a kid. I don’t ever remember a kid bringing a weapon to school, the weapon of choice was our mouths and our fists. No one ever threatened to blow the school up with a bomb. We didn’t play games with products that could kill us and we didn’t have strangers lurking around trying to sell us drugs. My parents weren’t concerned that anyone was going to steal me when I got off the bus and buses were considered safe.
And bullying, how did that get so bad?
Picked on was what we called it back in the day. It wasn’t bullying, it was being picked on. Whatever you called it, it’s not right, but unfortunately it happened, but not like it happens today. It didn’t start so young. There wasn’t anti-bullying campaigns because it was out of control. We didn’t have to take a class on bullying in second grade, and we didn’t have to sign a contract against bullying. Now, I don’t think any of these things are bad, I just don’t think at 7 years old I even knew what a bully was.
My kids both know what bullying is. They have known what it is for a few years.
Bobby was the unfortunate victim of bullying in third grade.
In third grade, my son was being bullied.
It was an awful experience for us as a family.
For two months we had no idea why our son did not want to go to school.
It started off with the fake sickness and then when we caught on, it was tons and tons of tears at night before bed and in the morning as the bus came into view my son turned into a puddle.
Putting my son on the bus in tears was horrible.
Not knowing why he was in tears was even more horrible.
No matter how hard we tried to get him to talk to us he wouldn’t say a word. Then the calls from the school nurse started. “Bobby’s not feeling well and he is very upset. Can you come get him?” the school nurse would say.
After about the tenth phone call in 3 weeks,I was a basket case. I left work in tears to go pick him up. The nurse, the principal and the head secretary were all baffled. We knew we had a problem but finding out what it was was proving to be impossible.
Finally I made an appointment with the pediatrician to discuss the issues we were having and to see if he could help us get to the bottom of the issues, maybe refer us to someone. I didn’t know, I was desperate. On the way to his doctor’s appointment, Bobby spilled the beans.
He was being bullied by a kid in his class and at one point in time the kid told Bobby that if he told anyone he knew that he was bullying him, he knew where he lived and he would come and kill his Mom.
An eight year old child told my eight year old son he would kill me.
At first I was relieved, finally I had an answer to Bobby’s misery. Then I got angry. Really angry. First because poor Bobby had been dealing with all this for so long. I mean can you imagine being eight and someone telling you that they were going to kill your Mom?
I immediately went home and called the principal and requested a conference with her and Bobby’s teacher asap. I threw in the words, “He’s being bullied in YOUR school and I want answers, now.
The meeting started off cordial and then when I found out that the kid that was bullying Bobby had a history of doing this, I got a bit tiffed. When I was told that the kid had a bad home life and they didn’t want to make his time at school bad too, I said, “So that makes it right for this kid is making my home life bad?” I don’t think so. When the teacher told me she had noticed this kid picking on Bobby, all the cordialness in my body magically disappeared.
Even after 2 years this is still so emotional for me.
Bobby’s young, he bounced back from this, and was a completely different child after he was able to talk it through.
I have never gotten over seeing my child go through this.
So here’s my thing. Do I feel100% percent feel safe with my kids going to school?
Who the hell is watching out for them when they are there?
Now I know I can’t be with them 24/7, that would just be embarrassing for them, but what if my dogs could accompany them to school?
I know that they would be safe.
They wouldn’t be bullied because they would have 150lbs of lean, fluffy, slobbery muscle by their side. Not that the dogs are viscous, but would you mess with someone with a 150lb slobbery dog next to them?
The dogs would make sure my kids are safe, they would protect them and lead them away from danger, just like they do at home. They would put themselves between them and danger.
And not only that, dogs are great stress relievers and great conversation starters.
Instead of “I’m going to kill your Mom.”
You would have, “What kind of dog is that?” How much does he weigh? How much does he eat? Does he sleep with you?” “Can I pet him?”
So yes, if Sherman and Leroy were accompanying Bobby and Gracie to school this year, I would be a bit more relaxed for the next 10 months.