Tuesday, December 3, 2013

When I get older.

On December 5th, 2013 I will wake up and spend my last few hours in my thirties. 10 am will chime, the minute hand will count 21 minutes, and I will start my forties with a smile on my face. Eight minutes later my "baby brother" Isaac will follow. (Twins!)

In the past little while people have asked me how I feel about turning 40. I say, BRING IT ON!

I will not be 29 with 11 years of experience.  I will not be "over the hill".

I WILL BE 40!

I have never shied away from my age.  In fact, I find it amazing that people ever do. Male, Female...it doesn't matter, people hide their age any chance they get.  

Remember when we were kids and we would proudly hold up our fingers to show anyone who asked how old we were? Why did we stop? (Aside from the obvious anatomy issue).

We need to wear our age with pride. We need to take time to reflect on the previous years that have woven to form the fabric of who we have become; but most importantly,  to look ahead at the opportunities waiting to show us who we are meant to be!

What an absolute honour it is to get to live another day; another year; another decade.
So many people of all ages, don't get that chance. I owe it to them to embrace each new year with joy!


I am so fortunate to be starting one more trip around the sun! To laugh with my family during the good times and cry with them through the tough ones. To raise a glass of wine with friends who have been at my side for just a few years, or for many (over 30 years even!!). To run marathons. To watch my husband and kids succeed at karate. How blessed am I?

The lines that are softly appearing on my face are evidence that I have smiled a lot, laughed often, worried some, and cried a time or two.  I could look in the mirror and see that I am getting "old". Or I can be reminded that I have had a life of challenge and victory, heartbreak and love, sadness and joy. Without a doubt, I choose the memories.


So, I will not tiptoe quietly, hoping that I enter a new decade with little acknowlegement.  I will not wish away the years that I am fortunate enough to have lived, even the ones that were extremely hard (believe me, there were brutal ones). Furthermore, I will not age gracefully, even though that's most definitely okay.

I will age enthusiastically. 

I have plans, goals, aspirations.  The year on my birth certificate simply indicates how many years I have lived, not how old I am.

Watch out 40...I'm on my way.

Jessica

"How old would you be if you didn't know how old you was?" Satchel Paige (1906-1982)

My hospital bracelet.  Pictured beside a Sharpie marker to give you an idea of how tiny it is. I weighed 5lbs, 4 ounces, My twin brother weighed in at 4lbs 11 ounces.






Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Broken

On Thursday, June 27th, I can finally sing.....SCHOOL'S OUT FOR SUMMER!

Did you hear that? For the love of all things, THE SCHOOL YEAR IS OVER!

It hasn't been all bad.  In fact, the first 6 months were pretty dang good.  And then February came.

As best as we can tell, that's when it began, although he didn't tell us until March.
Bullying is what we initially called it, even though bullying isn't the right word. 

There isn't really a word that appropriately fits the situation. Not when the situation is that an 8 year old girl is repeatedly threatening to kill your 7 year old son, multiple times a day. Every day.

Kill.

"I'm going to kill you"
"You're the next one to die"

When she was told to stop, she switched to gestures.  She would find him, stare him down and draw her finger across her throat. He has said from the beginning, she looks mean. Not like she was teasing.  Mean.

She was told that she couldn't gesture, so she began telling other people, while he was in hearing range.

"The next one to die is him"
"I have a plan"

She is singularly focused on him.  She does not threaten harm upon anyone else.

While this is great for others, it is bone-chillingly scary for our family.

I am not a psychologist, nor a psychiatrist.  Though my degree focused on Psychology, I can not offer any diagnoses.  But clearly, heartbreakingly, there is something very wrong going on in this little girl's head.

We have been unfailingly patient, but fully afraid.

There has been nowhere for him to hide.  She found him at recess and on his way to the bathroom.  She takes the same bus as he does.  Gets off at the same stop.  She has been relentless. 

One day, on the bus, she found his brother and said. "One day, I'll kill your brother.  I can have a knife". Of course, she made sure her target was within earshot.  Big brother said "You lay one finger on my brother and I will tell Madame (the vice-principal)"

Our seven year old came off the bus, and quite simply, yet firmly, said "I am not taking the bus anymore."

We said okay. 

Because how could we tell him otherwise?  Should we have called and demanded that she be removed from the bus? Sure. 

But she had been removed before.  She had been suspended before. Nothing had worked.  So, this gives him some small measure of control over this terrible, horrifying situation.  So we drive him.

Let me say that our school has been wonderful about all of this.  They have made his safety their main priority, while recognizing that this is an 8 year old girl.  Who clearly needs help, but also needs an education.

They, and we, have repeatedly told him that he is safe.  But he doesn't feel safe.  He feels scared, and worried, and confused. His words, not mine.

After a sleepless night of research, I find this, the Bullying Mediation Program and ask the Vice Principal and Principal the next day. They agree, and a decision is made to call them in.

We weren't sure what there was to mediate, but we want him to feel safe.  Bullying is never the victim's fault, but there tends to have been an interaction at some point between the involved parties.  In our case, there was no interaction.  One day, she just started to threaten him.

The police officer concurred.  The situation was beyond the scope of Bullying Mediation, but clearly needed serious intervention.  I am told that the police officer spoke with her family; spoke to her.  Advised that she needed medical help.  I am told that all were in agreement.  The meeting ended and this 8 year old girl, walked down the hall, found my son and said "I am going to take you to jail and then I am going to kill you".  My precious boy did as he should--he told his teacher.  They returned to the office and reported the incident.  The appropriate parties were called, and she was sent home.

No one ever wants to believe that a child that young is capable of that kind of violence.  But not one of us could say with any sense of confidence that she wasn't.

There was talk about searches of her bag and her person when she returned, just to be sure that she did not bring in anything that was "not school related". I haven't asked, because everytime I think about it, it makes me feel panicky. 

The decision is made to initiate the Violent Threat Risk Assessment program.

She is EIGHT.  He is SEVEN.  OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod.

We tell him that if he wants to change schools he can.  He says "No, because my friends are there, and they say they'll keep me safe". His 6 and 7 year old friends say they will keep him safe. I can't even.....

She is not to come to school until the first two stages of the assessment are completed and a plan for his safety is in place.

The stress begins to show.  He gathers a team of stuffed animals around him in bed at night, especially when his Dad is on graveyard shift.  He reads them a story, tells them they are safe; that HE is safe.  Then he closes his eyes and tries to sleep.  When he finally does, he has nightmares. It isn't every night, but it shouldn't be ANY night.  He is seven.

Conditions must be met and they are.  She returns to school two weeks later.  The first two days are fine, but on the third day, the teacher assigned to stay with her at recess is distracted away from her to deal with an urgent issue and she finds her way to him and says "I am going to kill you"

This can't go on, everyone agrees.  The school; her parents; us. 
She is no longer allowed outside at recess.

Something changes.  I am no longer telling him that he is safe.  I am telling him that absolutely every one, is doing everything they can to keep him safe.  It is the truth. It still feels weak.

At school whatever he needs to do to feel safe is allowed.  He can ask to have a friend walk with him when he goes to the washroom.  If he wants a break, he can just go sit in the office.

Everyone stresses to him that he has done everything, everything right.  He used to tell her to "Stop." He doesn't respond to her anymore. He just walks away.

My poor little boy keeps on trucking along, but the stress is wearing on him.  We are getting him help for that.  We encourage him to talk about it when he needs to.  But this means that sometimes he talks about it at "inappropriate" times.  To strangers, or to other children. 
The situation is contained now. But, it is not solved.   For the last 4 weeks, the school has successfully managed to ensure that she can not gain enough access to him to speak to him.  But he says she still looks at him "with that look.  The one where her eyebrows are down, and her face is down, but her eyes look up.  They are mean eyes".

So we know. We know that if she could get to him, she would threaten him.

I am told that they will absolutely make sure that they are not in the same class next year (they weren't this year, but you never know, with split classes). The vice principal has assured me that they will NOT share a classroom. But how long can this go on?

I am hopeful that after a summer away from him and from school, she will no longer use him as a target.  I am not optimistic.

I do not want her expelled.  She is an eight year old girl.  She has to be helped. Now.

He is a seven year old boy. Afraid of her, but so in love with his friends and teachers that he does not want to leave his school.

I am the Mom of the boy she seems to want dead.  And my heart is fully broken for them both.