I adore, love and respect them. They are amazing human beings. And I recognize that they, like me, are human.
Truly.
Alright, now that that is out there, remember when I talked about my dear sweet Noah being bullied by the big mean third grader who was calling him a "retard"?
And I went into Mama Bear mode and wondered if I should protect or attack.
Um, yeeeaaaaah. About that.
Right now I am feeling more like the animal that eats their young. Okay, that's too strong. Perhaps more like the mama bird who gives the baby bird a swift kick out of the nest in hopes they get it.
Yup, Noah was a bit more "human" than I was giving him credit for.
I heard back from Noah's teacher today. Here's her latest response:
okay~ I got the scoop...
I talked to the girl who was calling Noah a retard. Noah had been calling her names and pulling her hair. The bus driver talked to Noah about keeping his hands to himself and Noah continued. Noah was then asked by the bus driver to move the front seat and he refused. The bus driver had to physically move him because he would not go on his own. I asked Noah about this and he agreed that this all happened and that he did not share this with you. SO... in talking to the bus driver, Noah and [the girl], they all agreed that no more name calling, no more pulling hair and more listening to directions from the bus driver. oh, the life of being a parent. :)
Awesome. Truly, completely fan-tab-u-lous. So yeah, she was being a brat. But my kid was, too. The image of the bus driver moving him to the front seat? Noah can be kind of a pistol. I don't doubt it for a second. I have done that myself.
I think what really upsets me is this. First, I felt horribly that my child was being picked on. I mean, it made me sick to my stomach. But that pit in my stomach is even bigger now because here I went and put myself out there, I went to bat for him, and I was only working with 25% of the information.
I cried wolf. I was that mom. And I now look like an idiot and so does he. I, to be honest, don't deal well with looking like an idiot. Really I try to avoid it. Well, I try to avoid being an idiot, first, but when I can't do that, I try to avoid at least looking like one.
Mama Bear is not a happy camper. I thanked the teacher and let her know we'd talk to him. She wrote back:
Breathe. He's a first grade boy and he will learn to a) tell the whole story, b) sit on pockets on the bus, c) don't mess with the bus driver! :)
And she is right. And he is a good kid. A kid who has only been on this earth for six and a half years and still has a lot to learn. But we had a long talk tonight about crying wolf. Or, worse yet, having your mom cry wolf for you. (We didn't talk about moms who eat their young or kick them out of the nest, I left that out.)
He got it. There was stubborn-ness, and confusion, and fear, and tears, and apologies. And, I hope, some level of understanding. Cause let me tell you, I am kind of a control freak girl. And therefore, I far prefer the feeling of mama bear over mama bird.
At 4:00 a.m. this morning he came and crawled in bed with me and spent the rest of the night there.
Mama bear is back.
