Bully Bully

Amaya entered the car, and waited until Rio was finished with his tattle tale session about a friend using inappropriate language at school. Then she informed me on the new policies their school's going to implement next year in regards to bullies. Rio has been the victim of bullying, so it's a topic I have very strong opinions about.

"Next year the school is going to try to enforce a new policy," she said.

"Oh yeah," I answered.

"If someone calls someone a name, they will be suspended."

"Suspended!" My interest peaked. "For name calling?"

"And pushing, I think."

This sparks a lecture through the rear view mirror, directed at my children. I lecture on what bullying is and isn't. I explain to them that bullying consists of someone going out of their way on a regular basis to threaten, harm, tease, harass, and make people generally afraid and uncomfortable to be at school. It's not as simple as name calling.

"I think that's a little excessive," I said condemning the entire notion. "Not everyone in life is going to like you or be nice to you. That doesn't make them a bully."

"Well, our school has a huge bullying problem," she said. "Especially in our class."

"I understand that," I said. "I just think sometimes schools tend to go to the extreme when attaching labels like bulling to playground disagreements and confrontations. Punishing everything is just as dangerous as not punishing anything."

"I don't know what to tell you, Mom. It's going to be a law."

"A law!"

"Well I don't know," she confessed. "I don't understand. We're going to have an assembly."

I take bulling very seriously, but I approach the topic with a level head.

However I don't agree with the policies in place. I don't like that kids who are bullied feel like they can't fight back in fear of getting in trouble, or that parental intervention is discouraged. It's such a helpless position to be in.

It's important for kids to know how to stand up for themselves and others when they find themselves in this position. Rather than always focusing on punishing isolated behaviors to the extreme, schools should focus on giving kids the proper tools to deal with these situations. They should also encourage for the parents of both victim and bully to work together on finding a solution to the problem.

I don't believe parents want their children to be the victim any more than they want them to be the bully.

I'm attending this assembly.

What's your take? I'd love to hear your opinions on this topic.


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Schools Out!

The last day of school was always the best day of school when I was growing up.  But there's only so much pressure Rio can take, so he had his usual end of the school year melt down.

The kids hop in the backseat and shove their report cards in my face, eager for me to review them. I take my time reading every mark and notation while they hold their breath.

"Mom...did I pass?" Rio breaks the silence.

"Yup," I told him, as I folded the report cards and placed them inside my purse.

"Ah, good. That means I'm a third grader," he sighed with relief.

"I know I passed," Amaya stated. "I already peeked at mine."

"Great year you guys, I'm proud of you both," I praised them as I pulled away from the school.

"Mom? Do I have to go to college?" Rio asked reluctantly.

"It depends on what you want to do when you get older," I told him.

One minute later, Amaya informed me Rio was in tears.

"What's wrong Rio?" I asked through the rear view mirror.

"I'm not ready to leave home..." Rio sobbed.

I promised him I wouldn't kick him out just yet.

Underdogs

Underdogs...

...one of many activities banned from school playgrounds.

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Rio

Rio is the reason I'm a better parent.  I'm his number one advocate.

"As you know Mrs. Garcia," his preschool teacher said, "Rio is right handed."

"No...he's left handed," I corrected her.

"Not according to his evaluation," she continued.

I could hear in the tone of her voice, she had the degree in child development, I was just a parent. I rolled my eyes and pretended to take her serious.

She reported that he could count all twenty objects, he could point to all of his body parts, he knew all prepositions, he could draw a circle, and write his name. He knew all of the letters, numbers, colors, and what ever else had been taught in the school year. 

"But let me show you his Visual Perceptual Organization," she said as she handed me the evaluation. "He was instructed to draw himself and this is what he drew."

It was impressive.

"Rio drew a person with 4 eyes and a many fingers...when asked why he drew so many fingers, he said they were shooting fingers in case someone needs help."  She said with obvious concern.  "At this age we would prefer that he had a self image other than that of a super hero."

"He's four! Are you giving this same advice to the parents of little girls who think they're princesses and have added tiaras to their drawings?" I asked sarcastically. "Isn't it imagination that creates astronauts?"

No answer. 

I continued to the bottom of the page.  "I see it says at the bottom of this page... his preferred hand is marked left?"  I wondered, who really evaluated my child.

And as I predicted. 

"We suggest you hold him back, and wait another year for kindergarten," she advised. "It's better now than later.  He still cries easily, and he doesn't show any interest in drawing."

I strongly disagreed. But what do I know, I'm only his mother.

He's in second grade now...guess what hand he uses.

Homework

Helping my kids with their homework isn't my best skill. I get bored staring, page after page at subject lessons that are elementary to me. My husband says it's my been there done that attitude. Maybe, but I think it's more of a I hate repeating myself thing.  I blame Amaya.

"What letter is this Amaya?"  I asked while helping her with one of her homework packets in kindergarten.

"I don't know?"  She answered shrugging her shoulders.

"It's the letter 'D'..." I stressed. "Now you tell me, what letter is this?" I pointed to the letter.

"B?"  She questioned.

"No. It's the letter D," I sighed. "Write the letter ten times," I said as I handed her the pencil.

We repeated the above steps over and over.  Each time Amaya guessed a different random letter.  Nothing worked.  She mentally blocked out the letter "D". 

Two years of preschool! What a waste of money!

My husband came home to find us both in tears, crying. He kindly took over and earned his very first gray hair.

I was so relieved!
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Back to Normal

Everything is back to normal.  That is, if normal includes piles of laundry, a sink full of dishes, and playing referee to the game of  "he touched me...no, she touched me first."

Rio started the morning doing flips on his bed, kicking a soccer ball through the house, and terrorizing his sister.

Amaya took her sweet time eating her Cheerios...a solid 30 minutes.  Then decided she should kick her brother.

Surprisingly, we left for school on time and everything was peaceful in the car.  Until it wasn't.

"He's on my side!"  Amaya yelled.

"Stop pushing me!"  Rio yelled back.

"Really!"  I yelled at them through the rear view mirror.  "We're ten feet from the drop off, and you want to start this now?"

They got out of the car as I reminded them to have a nice day.

My day went by so quick without them.  Too quick.  I enjoyed the peace and quiet so much I forgot to pick them up from school.

That will teach them to fight in the car.
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No One Likes a Tattle Tale

Today Rio was sent home from school with a discipline slip.

"Mom look what Rio has for you,"  Amaya said, handing me a slip from Rio's teacher.

A discipline slip.  It states:  Grabbing clothes of others around the neck. 

This is the second discipline slip this year.  The first one was for not following the one set of rules that the school has in place for tether ball.

"Rio,"  I said. "Come here."

"Ya..."  He said with his head hanging low as he approached me.

"What happened?"  I asked.  "You grabbed someone by their shirt?"

"Yes,"  he answered.

"Why?"

"I don't know?"  he answered.

"Was it because you were mad?"  I asked.

"No, we were playing,"  he said.  "And grabbing is part of the game.  You have to catch the other person.  He grabbed me too."

"Okay, well it isn't okay to grab people by their shirt.  Especially around the neck, it's dangerous,"  I told him.

"I know.  We were just playing a game,"  he said. 

"Did you tell your teacher that the other boys were playing like that too?"

"No."

"Why not?"  I asked.

"Because they're my friends and I don't want to get them in trouble,"  he said.

And he's right. No one likes a tattle tale.

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Vaguely Defined

Vocabulary is important.  It's important for children to learn the correct meanings of words so that they can articulate those words in sentences properly. 

When the weeks vocabulary words come home with loose definitions provided by the school,  my mom gets irritated. 

"Don't these kids use a dictionary at school?"  She asks shaking her head.

"Amaya what does crossly mean?"  My mom quizzes her.

"To look angrily at something,"  she answers.

"What does elegant mean?" 

"To mark with good taste,"  she answers.

"What does godmother mean?" 

"Someone who acts like a mother,"  she answers.

"Wrong!"  my mom tells her.  "Nikki, do you ever read the definitions she brings home?"  she calls out from my kitchen.

"Well that's what our teacher told us to write Grandma,"  Amaya defends herself.

I grab the dictionary.  Before jumping to conclusions, we look up the words to see if by some chance the definitions are correct.  But mainly to prove that we were.

cross•ly: adv. in a cross or angry manner.
el·e·gant: adj. 1. Marked by elegance 2. A high grade of quality
god·moth·er: noun a woman who sponsors a person at a baptism

Our assumptions turn out to be correct.  The vocabulary words are vaguely defined.  Except the word godmother.  There's only one definition.  It makes me wonder if the definition was changed because of it's religious nature.

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Healthy Choices

The school lunch menu approved by our School District and The Child Nutrition Department is lacking to say the least.  Where are the healthy choices?

I let my kids buy lunch for one week .  This was against my better judgement, but I wanted to see what they ate if the school was in charge of their nutrition.  Their lunch diet consisted of corn dogs, pizza bread, chili-cheese fries, chicken nuggets, mozzarella sticks, and grilled cheese with seasoned fries.  All foods that I deem part of the fast food group. 

Still schools take the nanny position and practice "do as I say, not as I do" with our children.  They ban food item fund raisers, they prohibit cupcakes for birthdays, and they eliminate P.E.  All while telling parents that the above lunch menu is healthy and approved.  Who are they kidding?

Better Safe Than Sorry

I've been busy. It all started with one tiny bug.

I was blow drying Rio's hair as I do every morning and I saw what looked like a tiny sliver of bark.  I picked it out and took a closer look.

"Amaya!  Hurry get me a baggy!"  I yelled down the hallway.

She brought me a baggy and I put the little creature inside.  I then took a comb and started inspecting Rio's head.  Then I checked Amaya's.  Nothing.  No bugs, no eggs...so okay, it wasn't lice.  Was it a bed bug? 

After I dropped my kids off at school I took my bagged goody to my moms house.

"Mom, do you know what a bed bug looks like?"  I asked as I held up the bag.

"No,"  she said as she put on her glasses.

"Is it lice?"  I questioned.

"I don't know?"  She answered.

I went to her computer and googled lice photos.  Pictures loaded onto the screen. 

"Take it to the pharmacy and ask them if they know,"  she suggested.

Then I put the baggy on the computer screen so the bug was side by side the googled images.

"I think we know what it is!"  I told her.

After purchasing $83.00 worth of RID, I went to pull my kids out of school.  The school gladly removed them from class to have them inspected before releasing them.  The office clerk checked them.  Again, nothing!  They probably thought I was crazy, but I had proof in a baggy.  They insisted it was okay for them to remain in school. 

"Maybe you were lucky and found the only one,"  they joked.

I wasn't so sure.  Where there's one , there's two, where there's two, there's four.  And that thought sent me on a cleaning rampage.

After vacuuming and spraying the couch, I removed all bedding, blankets , and stuffed animals from my house, in case there were any stragglers.  I felt much better, until 8pm.

"Do you trust your eyes to spot a bug that starts off the size of a pin head?"  I asked my husband as we sat on the couch.

"No, do you?"  He questioned back.

Immediately everyone was treated.  Better safe than sorry.

December Gift Shop Junk

"Everyone who didn't have money got to play outside for an extra recess."  Rio tells me in the the car.

"What are you talking about?"  I questioned.

"For the December Gift Shop at school.  We don't have money." He answered.

"We have money Rio." I corrected him as he interrupted.

"I know, when my teacher asked if I had money, I told her no...my mom said it's all junk!  And my teacher said Oh."

I smiled as I pictured the look on her face.

"Recess is better than junk!" He announced.

Then Amaya asked, "Mom can we go to the Dollar Store."

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School Pictures



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Can you guess which picture I hung on my wall?

If you guess the first one, you would be correct. That is how they hooked me. They meaning professional school photographers.Take one good picture, then I'll be dumb enough to pay in advanced for years to come. 

It started in Kindergarten, when the school sent home a flier for picture day with pose and background options, and an assortment of picture packages to choose from.  The flier also stated:  "All photos must be paid for in advance.  Please send cash or check in the attached envelope with your child on picture day."

I remember thinking, "What?  Pay for pictures before I see them, how stupid is that."

Reluctantly I ordered the pictures.  And they turned out great!  The first picture really does capture who he is.  I didn't know it would be all downhill from there.

Now all I can do is try to suppress the disapproving mother in me that starts to surface when I open up his school pictures.  I force a slight smile and look up at Rio...but I can't resist.

Picture 2

"Why did you smile like that?"

"The lady told me to."  He said.  "Do you like them?"

"Very nice."  I said raising my eyebrows. I put the pictures back in the envelope and conveniently lost them in the office.  I convinced myself that the next one would be better.

Picture 3

"Here mom."  Rio handed me his school pictures.

"Rio!  What kind of smile is that?"  I asked, noticing all of his bottom teeth.

"She didn't like my mouth shut, she said to smile big and show teeth."  He explained.

"Okay."  Those also disappeared in the office.

Picture 4

What do you think I said.  Well...not what I wanted. 

"Mom, and you were worried about them combing our hair stupid."  Amaya pointed out.

So I've learned my lesson.



Three Slices Short

When I pick my kids up from school the first two minutes after they get in the car are always the most interesting. I get the details of all the injustices that happened in the school day.  Today it was child "A" . 

"I didn't even get pizza today." Stated child "A"

"Why would you have pizza, it's a half day?"  I asked.  "Schools out before lunch."

"Well I wasn't the only one... there was three of us who didn't get any."  Child "A" continued to state the injustice.

"I see you have a cupcake, was it someones birthday?"  I asked the obvious.

"Yes, our group was last and they ran out of pizza.  They only had hot wings left." Child "A" said shaking her head. "I saw more in the box, but I think those pieces were left for the adults."

"I don't understand?  There was pizza left...but the adults said there wasn't...because they were saving pizza for themselves?"  I asked. "How do you feel about that?"

"Some kids were upset..."  Child "A" said as she handed her cupcake to her younger sibling.

"Were you upset?"  I asked looking into the rear view mirror.

Child "A" tightened her mouth and shook her head yes.

Does this really happen?

It's simple.  If there are 30 kids in a class, bring 30 slices of pizza...or nothing at all!  Some people are clueless...or should I say three slices short.

Looks like we are having pizza for dinner.


Disclaimer: Child "A" asked me to refer to her this way, for this post, for anonymity.  I explained that people who read this blog can figure out who I am referring to.  So please, pretend this didn't come from her.

Translation Required

It's school conference time!  And sometimes conferences require a little translation.

Teacher:  Your child's penmanship needs improvement.
Translation:  Your child is going to make a fine doctor.

Teacher:  Your child is very talkative during class.
Translation:  Your child is the most articulate child I've met.

Teacher: Your child is progressing at grade level.
Translation: Your child is at the top of the class.

Teacher:  Your child can't sit still.
Translation: Your child's athletic ability is impressive.

Teacher:  Sometimes your child calls out of turn.
Translation:  Your child is an eager learner.

Teacher: Your child is so sweet.
Translation:  Your child is perfect!

I couldn't of asked for better conferences if I made them up myself.

Where Have All the Pencils Gone?

Teachers always have pencils at the top of their supply wish lists. 

"I just don't know where all the pencils go."  Said the teacher.

I shrug my shoulders, "I don't know...but they seem to like sharpening them into nubs."

Little did I know, I would  solve the pencil mystery.  My house!  Somehow my house is The Grand Central Station of pencils.  I know this because I have never bought a pencil to be kept in this house...EVER! 

I showed my husband the pencil collection I found picking up the house. 

"Where did all of those come from?"  He questioned in disbelief.

"Around the house." I said.  "And I haven't even looked under the couch cushions yet."

"So there's more..."  He was stating the obvious.

"Have you ever bought a pencil?" I asked squinting my eyes at him.

"Never." He states. Confirming my suspicion of our little pencil thieves.

"Well I guess we know where all the schools pencils are ending up." I said.

Now I have to go tell my kids that we do not need any more pencils, but mommy is running low on pens.

Reading Overload

The school trimester is almost up.  In two days to be exact.  And I have apparently forgotten how stressful the fourth grade can be.

"Amaya you need to read if you want to have any chance of making your AR goal."  I stated, totally unsympathetic.

"I'm trying Mom!"  Amaya responds.

"Don't be surprised if you're a few points shy of making it to the pizza party."  I added.

Then she started crying.

"What's the matter? Why are you crying?"  I dared to ask knowing I've provoked this.

"All school year you've been pushing me to read and I have been.  I read all the time.  I'm trying really hard!"  She says crying.

I had to apologize.  I was being unfair.  I push because I want her to do well and I know how bad she wants to go to that pizza party. 

She doesn't know, but I am on her side.  She has read over 31 books in twelve weeks, and it still isn't enough.  That's ridiculous. Reading is important, I agree, but there are other things in life that are equally important.  Reading for points makes reading a chore.

Making children read more doesn't necessarily develop a love for reading any more than eating peanut butter and jelly every day will develop a love for peanuts.  At some point they just get burnt out.

So I've decided to back off.  The world isn't going to end if she doesn't meet some silly AR goal.

Goodbye Halloween

Goodbye Halloween. It is finally over!  I love a holiday as much as the next person, well maybe not quite that much, but in my defense enough is enough.

Why is Halloween now a four day event?  Is it so Halloween Stores can justify charging $40.00 for a paper thin nylon costume?  Or are parents dragging out the event to rationalize buying one of those over priced costumes, that in many cases will still require purchasing three more accessories to complete? 

Day four, the department stores host trick-or-treating.  Day three, the schools have Halloween parades and class parties.  Day two, churches and individuals host Halloween events around town.  Then finally Halloween Trick-or-Treating. 

All while my children nag me regarding October 31st.  Not because it will be Halloween, but because they want to make sure they make it to church on time so they can audition for the part they want in the Christmas Play.  Really kids...can't we get through one holiday before we worry about the next.

This morning on the way to school they started singing Christmas songs.  So Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.  No one is really excited until the turkey is in the oven.

You Are Special

The definition of special,  1: distinguished by some unusual quality; esp: being in some way superior 2: held in a particular esteem 3: readily distinguishable from others in the same category.

I start with this definition because narcissism is at an all time high within our youth, and people wonder why?  Where does it start?  It starts in preschool where songs like Frere Jacques have been changed to better suit the self esteems of toddlers.

"You are special, you are special

because you're you, because you're you

you're so very special, you're so very special

yes you are, yes you are"

"I am special, I am special

because I'm me, because I'm me

I'm so very special, I'm so very special

yes I am, yes I am."

If everyone is special then no one is special.  Yes my kids are special...TO ME!  Beyond that, we will just have to wait and see.  This song demonstrates just one of the many lies we allow our children to be told.

Back to School

The first day of a new school year.  There are  mothers with their tissues, sobbing that they can't believe their babies have grown so fast.  There are children clinging to their mom's leg, pleading for mom not to desert them.  There are parents pushing their way inside classrooms to speak to teachers.  There are parents harassing the office staff regarding teacher placement.  There are parents who, for some reason unknown to me, have forgot how to parallel park.  Then there are parents like me who have been looking forward to this day all summer.

As excited as I was to welcome summer break, I am more than thrilled to have it end.  Summer break is a lot like company you haven't seen in a while.  You can't wait to see them but after you have cooked for them, cleaned up after them and entertained them for a couple weeks you are ready to send them packing.