Category Archives: bullying

Feeling Frosty (not the Snowman)

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Feeling Frosty (not the Snowman)

My cynicism is at code red. Yesterday I hit a new low (or high?) on the cynicism scale. My brother posted a video of a guy saving a drowned puppy and my first thought was, looks staged. It was posted by Unilad if you feel inclined to look for it. I’m not proud of my response, it was honest though. I followed it up with my favorite GIF:

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And the kid who got bullied – Keaton Jones – where to begin? I can’t watch the video. I know what’s on there, I have kids in Middle School. This past October I had serious thoughts of sending my husband out on Halloween dressed as Sponge Bob to beat the crap out of an 8th grader who’s been a jerk to my kid. We didn’t do it, it was just therapeutic visualization. The fact is that kid needs to get his ass kicked. There isn’t a member of the school district faculty who would not agree with that “off the record”. Which leads me to one of my all time favorite movie fight scenes:

 

As for Keaton, now his mother is getting questioned about alleged racist posts and fake fundraising. I’m over here like, “eh, not surprised.” I hope Keaton gets the upper hand at lunch. Middle School is a cesspool of vicious kids, hormones, bad decisions and some poor fashion choices. It always has been.

I also visited one of my favorite blogs yesterday – Redneck Latte Ravings – http://www.rednecklatte.com/

He had a post which included two versions of “Baby It’s Cold Outside”. Check it out –

 

I used to hear this song and think, cute. Now in light of recent headlines and my own personal experiences….I watch the video and I find Ricardo Montalban a bit aggressive and creepy. The funny version featuring Betty Garrett and Red Skeleton doesn’t feel right either.

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It’s all just a little too much right now. I need a time out.

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This Will Go Down on Your Permanent Record

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This Will Go Down on Your Permanent Record

I have zero tolerance for zero tolerance policies. They are the policy makers equivalent of the parent driving in 1975 with their head turned sideways with two finger tips of the left hand barely grazing the steering wheel, and the right arm swinging wildly towards the back seat of the car while screaming “I don’t care who started it, I’m going to stop it. Now don’t make me pull over!” Stupid, somewhat dangerous, short-sighted and completely lacking in justice.

A few days ago my son was targeted in PE class (you can’t call it gym anymore, people lose their mind over that). They were playing “touch” football, my son was tackled when the ball wasn’t anywhere near him. This might be considered horseplay if the perpetrator wasn’t a notorious jackass. He put one hand on my kid’s face and the other on his collar bone near his neck. My kid started to push back and cursed at the thug wannabe who started it. Technically my kid could get in trouble for standing up for himself, that’s f*cked.

My son was lucky. Although no one saw the physical altercation, the PE teacher totally had my son’s back.  He pretended not to hear the curse words my son surely yelled. Why? Because my kid is a good student who has never (not once) been in trouble at school. He’s in 8th grade so that says a lot about his character, luckily the teacher recognized this. The other kid is on the dirty dozen list at school. He’s been a troublemaker since 1st grade everyone knows this kid is trouble, everyone. These are the people that lawyer up when the school tries to rein in their unruly child. So this kid continues to terrorize the good kids and gets the occasional metaphoric slap on the wrist. What he really needs is a punch in the gut and a kick in the ass, metaphorically speaking of course…..my tongue is so far into my cheek right now.

The system is broken. This zero tolerance stuff is ineffective – why – because you need to consider the facts on a case by case basis. I’ve heard horror stories about kids making pretend guns using their index finger as the muzzle and their thumb as the hammer. Kindergartners  have gotten expelled for this, expelled. I’ve heard of middle school girls getting suspended for bringing Midol in to ease cramping. It’s ridiculous the pendulum has swung too far my friends. Time to bring common sense and her brother good judgement back to school. I really miss those two.

This sums it up nicely –

 

 

 

Keep on Truckin’…….Part 7

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Keep on Truckin’…….Part 7

Sometime in the summer of 1978 my brother and I finally moved back into a place with our mother. She had spent the last year getting settled into a job and a new apartment. While she was getting settled my brother and I stayed with our maternal grandparents. That living situation was prompted by a disastrous year in Florida with my mother, her boyfriend, Frank and my twin brother and me.

When we came back to New Jersey my brother and I were excited about seeing our father again. He lived in a shore town in New Jersey and we were both looking forward to reconnecting. Before we left for Florida we saw our father and his bride on a regular basis. They even tried to gain custody of the two of us. I remember having someone from the court ask me who I would rather live with….which was a ridiculous question for me…that question was a 1,000 pounds on my 7 year old shoulders. I answered with trepidation….something to the effect of I love them both but I guess I’d rather live with my mom.

The truth is I was torn. I kind of fantasized what it would be like to live with my father and his new wife. I really loved them, they were good to us….her whole family was good to us. On the other hand I had my mother and I recognized that she was wounded and I felt like she needed me. I also knew with every fiber of my being that if I went to live with my father she would be lost to me forever.

She frequently said bad things about my father and step mother which made me question my loyalty on a regular basis. I felt good when I was with my father and his new family and then when my brother and I would get home our mother would interrogate us. She would look for the smallest sliver of anything she could use against him. How many drinks did so and so have, who was there, what was on tv? It was intense. And I’m not sure exactly when it started but sometime early on my mother started referring to my father as “shithead”. She did this constantly used shithead in place of his name or a pronoun. Textbook definition of how not to behave after a divorce.

So naturally when we went to see our father for the first time since returning to New Jersey, my brother and I were nervous. We were also excited. He called us weekly while we were in Florida and we were under the impression that they missed us. So when he answered the door and didn’t invite us in my world caved in a bit. He said something about not being able to just come over unannounced and blah blah…..I don’t remember the exact words. I just remember shutting down and closing him off. Of course my mother reinforced how awful that was when we told her what happened.

Even though my mom was crazy it was hard for me to be apart from her. So when the three of us starting living together again I was happy. We started 5th grade that year in an elementary school which was maybe six blocks away. I had been to plenty of new schools by this point so I was pretty good at making new friends and observing situations.

Not sure how far into the school year it happened but one day I got into a verbal altercation with someone.  Before I could blink I had half the class threatening to beat me up after school. At which point I became more bravado than brains and started to assign people numbers something like “oh yeah I’ll fight you first, you second, you third….” pointing out the kids I would fight and in what order. Somewhere before I got to double digits an angel stepped in. She was the class jock and everyone adored her and even then she was cool enough to not give a shit about what people thought of her. She announced that if anyone fought me they would have to fight her as well. They all backed out of the fight and I got a new best friend.

I’ll never forget the day that Shelly stood up for me. After school I was determined to go to her house. I went up to the door and from that day until high school I spent many hours there. Her family was crazy but in a good way. They were loud, all the kids cursed but they loved each other. There was always food, snacks, dinner and all the Nestle Quik you could drink. Those were luxuries for me then…..hell we couldn’t afford Devil Dogs. Her mom didn’t work so she was often driving her kids and their friends around. I was always welcome there.

This was such a stark contrast to my family life. My brother and I were latch key kids. We came home after school to an empty apartment and I always had a long list of chores including getting dinner ready most nights. My brother and I fought all the time. That caused problems because we lived over a business so my mother had to hear about our behavior a lot. That did not make her happy and if mom isn’t happy no one is happy.

We never knew what kind of mood our mother would be in when she came home. When we heard her coming up the steps we would scatter like roaches when the lights come on. Scurrying off in different directions, tucked away until we could determine if it was safe to come out.

To be continued…..https://wasthatmyoutloudvoice.com/2015/11/12/keep-on-truckin-part-8/

Keep on Truckin’………Part 5

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Keep on Truckin’………Part 5

My mother was arrested in front of me in August of 1977. I was 9 years old. We had just destroyed the mobile home we lived in with her boyfriend, Frank. Apparently someone called the cops. I was put in the back of one police car while mom got taken away in another. It took them a while to figure out where to take me. We didn’t have any relatives in Florida, we were only there about a year.

My twin brother had been sent back to our home state of New Jersey in June. He was staying with relatives. I stayed with family friends for about 3 weeks while my mom and brother made the trip back home. My brother stayed in New Jersey and mom came back but not for long. She attempted suicide shortly after she got back to Florida.  Because of that, I was sent to a foster home for about 5 days in early July. When she got out of the Psych Ward we went back to living in a mobile home with Frank. Mind you at the time I didn’t know she tried to kill herself, I was told that she needed to rest.

Things were rocky to say the least. Frank and my mother fought constantly and I saw my mother get physically abused by him. He dragged her throughout the home and she was crying. I was chasing after him and screaming for him to stop. My mother tried to say it was fun, that they were just goofing around.  The rug burns on her arms and legs told another story and I can still picture them in my mind.

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The night my mother got arrested I stayed with a childless couple that were friends with our once foursome. They seemed like nice people. I remember sitting on their couch and talking but I don’t remember what we talked about it. I think they took me snorkeling but the memories are fuzzy. At any rate I probably wasn’t with them more than two days. Frank had to buy me a first class ticket to New Jersey. I guess that was the rule then for a minor traveling alone. It was my first plane ride. I don’t think I was afraid of flying but I did challenge myself to get a candy bar out of the guy before I boarded. That was a personal victory, it was a mounds bar in case you are wondering. I remember being encouraged to chew gum during take off so I was totally fine with flying.

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My maternal grandparents and my twin brother met me at the airport in Newark, New Jersey. I remember that my grandmother fell on the escalator…..as if my homecoming needed more drama. My grandparents were probably close to 70 at the time so a fall could have been a real game changer. Thankfully she recovered. I’m not sure how long it took my mother to get back to New Jersey but my brother and I lived with our grandparents for a year while my mother got back on her feet.

That’s pretty much how it was explained to us. My mother was busy getting her life in order; getting a job, finding a place for us to live, etc.,. So while she did that we lived with our grandparents in Waretown, New Jersey. Sometimes we wouldn’t see her for weeks and that was really hard. When you are a kid you tend to believe what the adults around you tell you but I was getting cynical.

We were in 4th grade that year and my brother and I both had issues with kids. He was tormented by some jerk on the bus and I was the second least attractive girl in class. In the 70’s no one gave a shit if you were bullied you just dealt with it. I remember feeling conflicted about the other least popular girl in class. I simultaneously felt sorry for her and was grateful there was someone under me in the 4th grade food chain.  I recognized that made me a bit of a jerk.

Her family lived in a trailer and had less than we did. She didn’t seem to have a good handle on hygiene but I suspect that was because she only had sporadic access to hot water. In the spring we were picking buddies for a field trip and no one picked her so I offered to be her buddy. Looking back I don’t think I had a lot of offers.

One time a kid found milk bone dog biscuits in my desk, that was unfortunate. I had an explanation…….there was a dog I passed on the way home from school and I regularly brought treats for it. That wasn’t the take away that the class latched on to….no from that day forward I was referred to as a dog. That was a thing when I was growing up, ugly girls were referred to as dogs.

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To be continued…….https://wasthatmyoutloudvoice.com/2015/11/07/keep-on-truckin-part-6/