first

I try really hard to keep this from being a mommy blog.  But this time of year there isn't much else going on.  Lots of being a mom.  It can be overwhelming.

Jake is in first grade.  That is weird.  It just somehow happened all of a sudden.
He's very proud.  Very big.  Very into pretending he isn't very proud but bigger than he really is.

He's had sort of a rocky start to the year.  I've had a rocky start to the year.  There was a rocky start to the year last year too.  I wonder if it's going to be like that every year.  Wonder if everyone gets off to a rocky start.  Wonder if it's just us.  Just me.

He was bullied in a bathroom yesterday by two big kids at lunchtime.  He thinks they were seventh graders.
"Sick" does not even begin to describe the way I feel. 

I'm beginning to worry that he is a target for this sort of thing.  It doesn't surprise me that he is.  He's terrified to get in trouble, to get others in trouble, to be involved in any sort of trouble.  He is a people pleaser.  A pacifist.  Afraid to fight.  Or fighting.  Afraid to get loud.
That trait is what leads some grown-ups to label him as "a good kid".  Who doesn't like a kid who does what he's told and never makes a fuss and uses his manners and is always (publically) a Gallant and never ever a Goofus?  He loves being "the good kid".  Lives for it.
That trait is what keeps me up at night, worrying that he won't have the backbone/guts/balls to stand up for himself.
I'm afraid it will happen again.  I'm afraid he's going to be afraid.  Afraid of being alone.  Afraid of going to the bathroom.  Afraid that he won't go to the bathroom and then he'll be the Class Pantspee-er.

Afraid, afraid, afraid.

I know his teacher, personally.  She is practically family.  She is family.  Just not by blood or marriage.  It's really hard not to email and text and call every time something little comes up.  Something big comes up.
I had to put my phone away last night so I wouldn't call her at 9pm when I found out about this.

Usually I know what to do.  This time I don't know what to do.  Of course instill on him that he needs to fight back, yell until someone pays attention, tell a grown up right away.  Of course get the school involved today.  Of course honor his feelings and respect the way he reacted to everything that happened.  Of course talk about prevention tips.  But I can't un-do it.  Can't erase it.  Can't make it like it never happened.

Sometimes kids wait until the very last minute after bedtime to tell you something.  Sometimes it seems like an excuse not to go to bed on time.

Bedtime starts at 7.30 at our house.  Teeth brushing and song singing and story telling and book reading (we just started Eragon, he is OBSESSED).  Quiet time is 8.30.  Deep conversation usually kicks in around 8.40.  Every so often it's worth listening to.

Also: September 11th.  They learned about it at school.  Sort of.  There were lots of gaps to fill in.  Gaps like:
How did those planes crash?
Why did those planes crash?
Where did those planes crash?
When did those planes crash?
Who made those planes crash?
What made those planes crash?
Basically, they need to bring in a good journalist to teach this lesson next year.

We talked about things like hatred and war.  We talked about the soldiers that we know, and how lucky we are that there are people like them who make it their job to protect us so something like this won't likely happen again.  How lucky we are that we weren't on those planes.  How lucky we are that we weren't in those buildings.  How scary it was to watch it happen.  How lucky dad and I were to be able to watch it together, how lucky we were to watch it together surrounded by friends.  How lucky we were to be able to reach everyone we loved when the phones started working. 

Lucky, lucky, lucky.

I wasn't thrilled that they learned about September 11th in the first grade.  But I guess that's life.  

Good things are happening too. 
They just aren't as easy to write about.
Isn't that sad?  Our bad news goes viral and people eat it right up but when we share the good people are all pukey and gaggy because no one really wants to hear the Susie Sunshine stuff.
Good things are happening too.