17 March, 2011

...words to get you through...

Since my son was but a wee little one, I've kept various journals and notebooks and the like on me at almost all times.  I try to write things down as they hit.  Whether it's quotes that inspire, ideas to craft, thoughts to write out, future blog posts...scribbles on papers all over the place.  Someday soon I'll have to start consolidating.  I will have to search out every scrap and remnant for the words I've written down for Mister Man and compile them all in one notebook, one place for him to go to when he needs to read the right thing for the right time.  I want there to be something leftover some distant day in the future when I am no longer there for every moment. 

He's a trooper...a walking miracle who comes up against all odds and always wins.  He is strong and knows when to bend so that he won't break.  No matter what gets thrown at him he finds a soft place to land and then goes back and tries again.  I'm a daily awestruck.  And my heart overflows. 

I want him to read my words when he needs them the most.

I want him to know...

My darling son.  You are stronger than the pain you feel when someone else is cruel and thoughtless.
It will not break you.  You will take it inside of you...that pain...and you will turn it into compassion for others...into sympathy and empathy. 

You are wiser than those who challenge your knowledge.  You are a reader and a creator.  You take in what the world offers and allow it space inside you to grow into a larger picture.  You allow the information that you are given to expand your horizons into a wider view.  You are a learner.  

You are loved not for what you do or what you give, but for who you are.  

I am always on your side.  I will get it right, and I will get it wrong.  I will make mistakes and I will fail.  I will miss the call or be to late.  I know that, and so should you.  Because life is complicated and sometimes it's impossible to balance it all.  But I will always back you up.  There will never come a day when I won't take the time to try to see it your way.  I promise you that you will always have in me a soft place to land...a safe and secure spot to rest and recharge and reassess.    

Always remember, the only outside opinions that matter are those offered by the ones who love you and whom you love.  The only opinions that ring true come from those who know your path and who have walked portions of it with you.  

I know it's a hard thing concept to understand, much less put into practice...but just so you know...those bullies?  They're weak.  They are sad and miserable and lonely and scared on the inside.  They are so weak that they don't know that the right thing to do is to ask for help.  They are so weak that they don't know that you would help if asked.  They are so weak that they have to gang together because they are afraid to open up one on one.  They are so weak that they strike out at you and try to make you feel the way they do on the inside, and then they think they feel stronger because they were able to cause pain.   But they are wrong.  They are weak and they are wrong.  And they are missing out on you.  They will never know what a good friend you are.  They will never know what a fun and interesting person you are.   They will never know that you could help them feel better.  And that is sad.  Because I know...and my life is a millions times better because I know. 

I love you.  I always have and I always will.  And I will mess up and you will be angry.  But I will keep trying.  And we will have the happiest life that we can dream up!
  

13 March, 2011

...tame or wild...

We received quite the outpouring of support last week via texts, calls, emails and comments in regards to this post about bullying.  I'm so very grateful to each and every one of your for your concern, love and suggestions.  I'm glad I didn't stop myself short of writing and submitting those words...they were genuine expressions of how I truly felt and continue to feel.  I'm sickened by the way some children behave...and by the seeming lack of concern or involvement their parents have over what I deem troubling warning signs.  To be forced into the position of having to teach my special-needs 8 year old child how to defend himself against physical attacks goes against everything I want him to believe in.  And to have his view of education colored so negatively by these attacks angers me more than I care to admit.  He is such a bright and curious child with such and aptitude and thirst for learning...I absolutely hate watching that wither away in the face of these bullying occurrences.

It's important to me though, that I follow up with all of you and let you know how things played out.  After my phone call to the school, they followed their established protocols and interviewed Mister Man in a roomful of adults.  After establishing his side, they then did the same with both the girl who had attacked him and a classmate of Mister Man's who witnessed the event.  Apparently the girl went the foreseeable route and lied about the whole thing.  But the classmate's version matched Mister Man's, and the principle and staff made it clear they believed him.  So the girl in question lost her recess privileges and had to write an apology note to Mister Man.  Additionally, Mister Man's seat was moved to the back of the bus where he is now surrounded by 5th grade buddies as an effort to protect him. 

Ok, fairly cut and dry.

A few problems though.

1)  The apology note?  I'm not sure if it was scripted or prompted or actually written out by the girl herself, but good gosh the wording was kind of scary.  One line in particular threw me off... "It's just sometimes I lose control of myself. I get mean.   I don't know why." 
 Ummm...really?  Did any of the school staff read that???  Considering last year's temporary expulsion nonsense that we went through, I'm suprised those words made it to our home.  I don't think I'm over-reacting in my response...that statement give cause for question.  I'd take a long hard look at that child and send her off to the guidance office for starters.
Losing Control?  Getting Mean?  Not Knowing Why? 

Keep her away from my son.

2) Forcing a bunch of 5th graders to essentially babysit my child on the bus?  Yeah, that's gonna go over superbly.  Let's face it people, 5th graders consider that bus ride social hour.  You've just succeeded in making my son an inconvenience to them.  Oh, and considering his autism and the massive social/communication issues he has...way to go, you've just thrown him into a virtual lion's den of communication.   He has nothing to offer in 5th grade experience, and he feels the difference. 

Brilliant plan there.

3)  Really?  She loses recess for a few days?  For striking another person repeatedly with a metal object?  Last I checked that does actually sound like physical attack with a weapon.  Metal hurts people.  It leaves cuts and bruises.  And it's scary...being attacked unprovoked.  So losing recess?  Yeah, not exactly a punishment to fit the crime.

Now listen, I realize that in reading this some of you may be shaking your heads wondering why I sound so extreme.  But here's the deal.  Mister Man has been the victim of bullying multiple times over in this school.  I'm thrilled to know that come the end of the school year I am getting him the heck out of there...but in the meantime, he's scared to be on the bus, scared to be on the playground, scared to wait on lines.  And aside from literally standing next to him all day long at school, there's little I can effectively do to make him feel at ease.  That's the school's responsibility, and in my opinion, they aren't even coming close to fulfilling it. 

The day that I had to take my son in hand and physically teach him how to fight back for when flight is not an option, is the day his school failed him.

...oh what a beautiful morning-to stare at a mess...

You know that line from Finding Nemo...
"Morning. It's morning, everyone! Today's the day! The sun is shining, the tank is clean, and we are gonna get out of...GASP!!!!
...yup, that one?

Here's my  version from this morning:
"Morning.  It's morning, everyone!  Today's the day!  The sun is shining, the windows are clean...
and crap, clean windows plus bright spring sunlight...gee whiz, would you like at the mess in here?!?

Let me tell you readers, nothing but nothing brings attention to a house in need of major spring cleaning like those first morning rays of springtime promises.  I can see every speck of dirt, every crumb the vacuum ignored and of course veritable mountains and valleys of legos all over the livingroom floor!  Consider whatever part of my insomnia-addled brain that was actually cheerful this morning promptly returned to sleep-mode now that I see what really lies before me. 

Spring may mean regrowth and fresh blossoms out in the natural world, but here in Casa Caffeinated it's looking more and more like box up and toss out time. 

With another move in the works for this summer it's definitely not absurd to be thinking of condensing once again.  But good gosh, it would have been nice to go an hour or two this morning without the visual reminder and dismal realization!

Time to start marking the boxes I suppose...keep, toss, flea market, pass-it-on's, craft supplies, etc...
I suppose that means another trip to Target for a few more crates.  I'm fairly certain that by the time we set up some permanent residence of sorts, Mister Man and I will have more plastic totes than we know what to do with...


08 March, 2011

...catch and release...

Clearly, I've been MIA for a few days.
Have you been checking in only to see that nothing new has made an appearance?
Has disappointment or curiosity taken over?
Worry not, this caffeinated is back on board and ready to play catch up once again. :)

The end of last week was chaotic for a number of reasons and left me little time to check in with my keyboard.  And then came the weekend.  The weekend away!  Bags packed, Mister Man hyped...and off we went...to Philadelphia, P.A.

For some reason, when it came time to replace my last outdated, nonfunctional computer several years back I opted for a desktop without even considering a notebook.  Honestly, I think I must have just blanked out the existence of portable computers completely during that time!  How else to explain purposely tying myself down to a fixed location whenever I need the computer?  And as you can well imagine, I've yet to upgrade my phone to one on which I maintain an online presence.  (Heck, confession time...my cellphone doesn't even take/send/receive pictures!  Oh, so last century am I!)

Which is yet another reason why my carrying a planner with me everywhere and at all times comes in handy.  So all those of you who know me in real life and can't resist a jab at my ginormous wallet, take note.  That thing not only keeps my life in order and Mister Man's as well, it also serves as my one-stop daily log.  It's not without merit to suppose that someday in the far distant future some highly developed future-man will find one of my wallets buried beneath the sands of time and be able to recreate an accurate depiction of life as I knew it!  At any rate, thanks to said handy planner-wallet in one way (written) I was able to stay on top of my very own TTP Project, though in another (typed) I'm admittedly behind. 

So for the next 1/2 hour or so I'm solely devoting myself to copying over my TTP notes from notebook to desktop.  'Cause I'm just that devoted. ;)  Thanks for not complaining about my mini-desertion from blogland.  I'll try to come up with a suitable reward sometimes soon! 

Now where's my coffee?!?!?

03 March, 2011

...too tame a word...

I'm admittedly spinning my wheels right now...a veritable stormcloud of emotions...
I'm flip-flopping by the second between sorrow and fury and everything in between.
What's got me in a tizzy?

Mister Man got attacked on the bus ride home today. 

The girl who sits opposite him decided to up her game today, from poking fun at his name-appearance-intelligence to physically attacking him with the metal end of her seatbelt.  Repeatedly.  In the leg, and face.  And pinching him.

Let me digress for a moment...  This is hardly the first incident like this that we've dealt with this year.  There have been issues on the playground, the busline and the bus itself several times.  And I am losing my patience and restraint.

School policy requests parents to inform the appropriate school official and then wait patiently while the school launches an investigation into the incident.  The bus supervisor I spoke with directly after my son told me what had happened inquired as to whether I was comfortable with her speaking to my son tomorrow morning about the incident.   Agreeing, I wryly stated he's become all to accustomed to these sort of fact/discovery missions this year.

Here's the thing...Mister Man is an awesome amazing miracle boy.  In his young life he's overcome immense obstacles and lived through some pretty crappy drama.  He's never given in or given up...or lost any of his innocent kindness to others.  Those who know him speak of his immensely sympathetic nature and of his willingness to make others happy.  His autism makes things difficult on a daily basis, and yet he defies the odds and makes my heart soar.

I'm tired of this bullying crap.  I feel like that word 'bully' doesn't say it at all. It's far to tame a word for such vile behaviour.   Let's call them what they are...monsters.  Little malicious monsters who go out of their way to prey on someone else.  Criminals in the making...and in the act...because let's face it, what they are doing is considered criminal in an adult.

I may sound vicious in writing this...but I don't come close to being nearly as vicious as the children who have gone after my son this year. 

I'm so scared for him.  Scared that there will come a day where having a warrior for a Mami isn't enough...when my strength and love and comfort won't cover the pain he's suffered at the hands of his supposed peers. 

The news these days is full of parents nightmares as the damage these monsters do ends in depression and suicide attempts and worse. 

I'm scared. I'm furious and sad and defensive and comforting...but under it all, I'm scared for my son...