N.O.S. - A New Look at Bullying

Do you remember watching Little House On The Prairie? Then I am sure you remember Nellie Olsen. All blonde ringlets and big hair bows and that sour look on her face. She made life hell for the children ( and even a few of the adults) in Walnut Grove.  She was a horrible little girl, and everyone in town knew it, except for her mother Harriet Olsen.

Mrs. Olsen was forever storming up to the schoolhouse or marching over to the Mill or otherwise tracking down parents to tell them how awful their little brat and had been to her dear sweet Nellie.  I think every kid in that town was taken out to the woodshed because of something Nellie Olsen started.

I think Nellie Olsen Syndrome or NOS is running rampant in the hallways, classrooms and playgrounds of today.

My daughter has a case of NOS in her class.  There is a child who is simply unpleasant. She has an opinion (usually negative) on everything everyone in the class does.   She is selfish and mean. She doesn't really get along with anyone.  Everyone sees it except her mother who is always talking about how sweet she is.  In fact this is a mother who has said that she would make her daughter take responsibility for her part in an altercation or dispute, but it has NEVER been that case that her child has been in the wrong.

When mom has been told about what others see as bad behaviour she replies that her child is "strong willed" or "likes to share her opinions" or "is just being silly".

In short when her kid tells your kid his handwriting sucks, she is just expressing herself. When your kid tells her kid that her lunch stinks. He is being a bully.

I know there are kids out there who are being bullied.  Poor little buggers who would (literally) rather die than go to school for another day.  Kids can be very cruel.  We need to keep our eyes open and act on behalf of those kids who need our help.  Having said that I don't think you are the best parent on the block just because you see your own child through rose coloured glasses.  If your child complains about being bullied by everyone all the time.  You need to take a long hard look at the situation.  There may be a situation going on with your child that you need address.  You might have to admit you have a Nellie Olsen in your house.

I Miss My Mom

I miss my mom.

She died about a month ago.  We found out she had cancer on a Wednesday and the following Tuesday she died.  On the day of the cancer diagnosis she also had a stroke, so she couldn't speak and loss the use of the right side of her body.

I have been mostly numb since that Wednesday.  My mom and I talked all the time, about almost everything, and even when she didn't give me the answers I wanted, I loved talking to her.  The fact that during the last days with her we couldn't talk is always going to haunt me.  I sat by her bed and talked to her, told her stories about my kids and all that kind of stuff. It wasn't enough. I wanted he to talk to me and laugh at my stories, I wanted her not to die.

I am adult, I have been married for over ten years I have have four children.  On paper it would look like I am well past the stage of needing a mother. Not true.  I needed her. I still need her. I need that very unique relationship between a mother and daughter.  I need to her get me, I need to her to talk me off the ledge. I need her to frustrate me and drive me crazy.  I need her to remind me how lucky I am.  I need her to give me a kick in the ass.

This is really the first time I have talked about how much I miss her.  I can't or rather, I don't talk about it with my brother and sisters because I am sure they miss her just as much, and we don't really have time to sit around missing her.  We are caring for my father who has Alzheimer's disease.  He asks where my mom is all the time.  They were married for 60 years.  Her presence is what made  his world make sense.  He called her The Boss.  We had no idea how much she was doing for him until she was gone.  Not because we weren't around or weren't helping, but because she didn't want us to know how much help he needed. And, like us, she thought she would be here forever.

My grandmother died when my mom was a little younger than me, at that time she had 4 children as well ( I came along a few years later).  Mum never really stopped missing Grandma. She talked about her all the time.  Even though I never met my grandmother I have always felt like I knew her.  This is probably the gift my mother would want me to give to my children.  I will make sure they know her, not just know about her, I will make sure they know her.

But really, I just want her back.

From the People Who Brought You an Earth Centered Solar System...

My children go to a Catholic school.  I am Catholic my husband is not, but this is the route we decided to take.  I love the school, I love the staff, but there are some volunteers that have to go.

A group of moms run a lunch time activity group.  They are all jazzed about their "Christ centered" activities. Whatever.  My daughter goes to it sometimes, my son would rather run a cheese grater over his head than give up his lunch recess to colour pictures of Jesus.

The other day while I am driving my daughter to one her activites she is telling me about that day's Jumpin' For Jesus group.  They were talking about Noah and the Ark.  They were told that animals that used to exsist (I need to warn you before you read any further, if you are drinking or eating you may want to make sure you mouth  is empty and your airway is clear) like dinosaurs and unicorns don't exsist now becuase they didn't get on the ark.

No, I am not shitting you here. Dinosaurs and unicorns, missed the boat.

I was more than a little relieved when I looked at my daughter and she said, "Yeah, didn't dinosaurs just die? And unicorns? Mom, do you think the Jumpin' for Jesus moms really think unicorns are real?"

If she comes home this week with a disc of the earth we will totally be looking at new schools.

A Big Ole Bitchfest

Okay, so here is the deal-ee-o.

If you receive an invitation to an event, and it tells you to call or email a certain person to get your ticket, don't decide to just go off the board and take your fucking order anywhere you want and expect the reservation fairies to bring it the the right people.

Also, if you are a volunteer at an organization and friends of yours want to come to an event, don't call the  person ( in a paid position with said organization) in charge of taking the reservations and say "Bob and Susan want to come" and the assume that said (newly hired) reservation person will know who the fuck Bob and Susan are and what the hell they want to eat.  AND that even though you called in for good old Bob and Susan they are not sitting at your table.

Thirdly, when Bob and Susan get around to sending their cheque in and the cheques have Mr. & Mrs. Smith on them, do NOT call the reservation taking person and be all snarky about how Susan uses the last name Jones.  Then Susan should get her own fucking cheques or perhaps tell Bob she has no desire to Mrs. Smith.

I have spend all weekend in front of the fan that the shit was hitting.

There are a few ways of being upset when you discover a fuck up at your job.  There is the " Omigod, I can't believe I did that ( or forgot to do that, as the case may be) I am soooo going to get fired for this" kind of upset, then there is the "Every time I have to work with Arnie things get MESSED-UP...ggggrrr" kind of pissed off.

Me?

I am experiencing the " I'm sorry, can I just show you my drivers license, because it seems that I am Josie Totes and not in fact the Amazing Fucking Kreskin and can not read your fucking mind and I can not in fact pull addresses and names and menus out the fucking air." kind of upset.

I have a meeting coming up.  Either things are going to get straightened out, or I am going to have a whole lot more blogging time on my hands.

I'll keep you posted.

It's taken so long to set this thing up

that I've run out of time to write an inaugural post. Well, suffice to say this blog isn't actually about laundry, although both of us seem to spend an inordinate amount of time "stuck at Base Camp One of Mount Rushmore" (that Josie Totes is a funny, funny girl), and I do have a strange fascination with bluing, but, no, it won't be about laundry.

I don't know what it will be about, but it won't be that.

Patty