Go Write!!!

At my son's school this morning, a literacy workshop for parents and children: "Go, Write!"
Really interesting, informative, great. How they encourage these kids to build their vocabulary and write creative sentences, exemplary.

I get home and there's the ASOS people telling me I haven't sent back the questionnaire about my mental health and my benefits may be affected if I don't return it by next Friday. Go WRITE...

I know you won't believe me but I can't do it.

Yes, yes, I know I've written about four posts this morning and I write articles and letters but I can't write what they are asking me to write.

They are asking me to write an essay describing my illness.

I can write "I feel suicidal" but they won't give a shit about that. Who gives a shit about that? Besides, that's not an essay, it's a sentence. "I had a mental breakdown, I need time to heal so it doesn't happen again" won't wash with them either.

My doctor told me to get Citizen's Advice to help me with it after her colleague told me I'd be found fit for work.

I'm actually ashamed to say I can't do it. Ashamed I can't write the essays. Ashamed to go to Citizen's Advice and say 'help me'.

There are about three essays to write, the thought of which is totally depressing.

Fuck.

I just thought I'd tell you because I am somebody who can read and write so imagine how hard again it must be for someone who can't.

"Go Write!" kids.

I hope you don't find yourself where I am when you grow up.

Back to School

The boy was excited!

HALLELUJAH, HALLELUJAH, hallelujah, hallelujah, HALLE-E-LUJAH!!

First time ever, it seems!

"See my friends mummy!"

Oh he's never said that before; scared my little mite, of the taunting.

BUT but! I positioned myself with the Mothers Who Don't Like Me at the winter fair and so the kids could see

THEN, the Ham and High kindly offered a bridge, in the form of panto tickets to The Enormous Turnip where I invited all my son's closest friends and all the mothers, bar one - c'mon, I'm not that forgiving. "I have a ticket for your child," wrote I and of course he couldn't come but at least she let me know.

The Foca has traded weekends with me so our son can go to A's birthday (so lucky I got Christmas and New Year waking to my Sun..three weekends in a row....lucky!)

All his buddies are attending.

My son my sun, I wish you the best in 2012. I wish you renewed confidence within yourself, self belief and self worth, lots of laughs and humour, and yes, you are back to school, so the best of your more than capable abilities in all you endeavour.

I love you, I have always loved you, I will always love you, now and forever

Amen

My son shows the Red Card

On my friend Annie's boyfriend's advice, my son drew a STOP sign on red paper which he was told to show the boys at school who were picking on him.

Good ey. Your child gets picked on or teased at school, doesn't need to say anything, just shows the Red Card (and eyeballs kid before walking away).

Wow, you could do it, take it to work. Boss being an arse? Show him or her your Red Card.

I need my son's card to day.

It's all the dark stuff... benefits...insecure expensive housing...no heating because the bills are already too high without it...guilt my son is cold at night..
voices...all voices...my voice...my voice...government policy...council policy...cause and effect...

STOP

We need to look out for and teach our children

A friend posted this on facebook this morning. It's young Jonah Mowry reaching out. It is heartbreaking.

Yesterday I read a heartbreaking story so relevant to this one. That of 15 year old Dominic Crouch who was driven to suicide following playground taunts that he was gay, a homo.

They've started calling each other gay in my son's class. These young boys don't understand the implication or what it means and I've told my son when he's been called so to laugh it off saying there's nothing wrong with being gay, gay means happy, or his favourite, what you say is what you are.

Above all, I have told my son never to tease someone else in this way, not even for a laugh. He's talked about sexism and racism recently and I've told him this is discriminatory aswell.

As the comment in the Observer says: "School children endure stress and misery as homophobic abuse and name-calling go unnoticed or unpunished. As casual racism and sexism have become increasingly unacceptable, homophobic name calling is passing into everyday use."

Bullying of any nature is awful for the child.

It is our role, along with their schools, to teach them about tolerance, acceptance, and, like the Observer says tackle the 'real issue about respect and identity.

The landscape for our children isn't a bright one at the moment. They're leaving school to either get indebted with university fees or chase jobs that aren't there.

If they have very low self value and very low self worth too they will find living intolerably hard.

Jonah, thank you for having the courage to post your pain and having the courage not to be defeated by any of it. I wish you the very very best for your future.

Shitting oneself about Shit School reunions

There are so many people who hated school that I'm finding it all rather comforting at the moment, so if you're one, well you're perfectly permitted to take comfort from me, or not, as you like!

My friend Jab came by yesterday and I told her my head was full of a reunion I might go to at a Shit School I hated when I was a teenager.

"Are you going to shit yourself for the next two weeks then decide not to go because that's what I'd do!" and we laughed, because it is funny, especially when you're as old as we are.

"Yes," I said to her. "I think I will but I also think I might go."

I feel I have no choice in going. I shit myself every time I think of going to that school. I spontaneously shield myself or cry when I'm in the vicinity of it. That is so shit, that memories, ok, fucking shit ones, who fucking cares, have such power over me.

I didn't tell you did I? Or did I? I think the reunion is in the school. It is a feast day and I think there is a High Mass. I think a point of the reunion is to go into Mass like old times then go to lunch (lunch? In that awful soulless refectory with those long wooden tables where I couldn't eat a morsel of toast off those white plastic trays?).

i went into the school website yesterday and had a proper look around it for the first time. There is a teacher still there. I remember that name. Was it him or the deputy head who told me I couldn't go into the church because "God doesn't want you there." ?

Thank God I've been to church between then and now but the whole day feels like a baptism of fire. I'm feeling distinctly uncomfortable already.

I asked myself yesterday, who would go through something like this?

Then I remembered lying in a hammock in Phnom Penh, Cambodia having spent the day in the Killing Fields and a guy asked me: "Do you want to have children one day?"
I'd answered: "Who in their right mind would bring a child into this world?"

The answer to both came clearly to me yesterday.

Me.

Believe me when I say to you, that anything I can do, you can do too (even if I'm not convinced at this juncture that I can actually do it. I might combust through shitting myself).

There comes a point when you need to make peace with your past. You will know when that point it because you will feel it.

Walk through the fire and drink the water that awaits you afterwards

(or in my case of course, get pissed,,,well, Jesus did turn water into wine, didn't he? Why yes he did!)

Tears are good haiku

When it's hard to breathe
as memories re-surface
tears can really help

School reunions - Does one face the horror?

I am thinking of coming, if I can sort out travel/accommodation etc. Thing is, I don't really remember anyone, which is a bit embarrassing but also quite funny for at another school reunion, an old room mate didn't remember me, which I thought was very cool!

Very cool? Yes it was. She was embarrassed while I was relieved. Dodgy memories are part and parcel aren't they.

This reunion though, is in a different league to that one.

Thing is, I don't really remember anyone. I don't really remember anyone because I blocked them all out. Well done me.

I remember the school though. I remember the priest. I remember the deputy head. I remember the housemistresses. I remember feeling exactly what I'm feeling right now actually, impossible to articulate as tears stream down my face. I remember the girls coming into my room one by one saying 'I've heard you've been bitching about me.' and me saying nothing because it was true. Will they be there? Will I say something decades decades later? "Yes, your best friend started it." Better not to go, surely, regardless of whether my 'best friend' or any of those girls are there or not. Better not to go, surely, if I know I will walk into the chapel and cry.

It's been months I've been thinking about this. On and off. Off mostly because on seizes my chest as memories surface that I can't get rid of.

Astonishing how something can be so alive in you when you've tried so hard to kill it. Told yourself a thousand times you are over it. Tell yourself a thousand times you accept it and are moving on only to find yourself right back there in that moment which doesn't exist anymore

I don't know if I will go. For the first time today, I have written the message to people I don't remember which I've posted on the facebook page. To keep in touch with no-one, except the father of your child, that is something. I never joined the facebook group when I was invited last year. What does that tell you? Tell them? Should it bother me even?

My friend Em lives nearby and said we can stay even though she and her hubby will be out Friday and Saturday.

I can only go if she takes me. Drives me there, drops me off. A male friend of mine offered but I said no. Em has seen me cry before.

I think people are going with their partners

Fcuk

See, I can't even speak anymore.

I may get back to you about all this

For now I must let the feelings pass

Breeeeeeathe

Putting thoughts in emails

Hi [Support Worker],
I got your letter. Indeed a long time!
I'd like to meet you but I can't next Monday as I have to take [my son] swimming. Because we're much further away from the pool now I take him straight from school by bus.
For some reason I thought the meeting was last Monday and I waited for you! Alternate Mondays [my son's] dad is supposed to take him and pick him up from the flat but he didn't show. Not the first time so I've said he can't take him anymore. He's blasting me with texts and emails that I do not read because I've had enough.

You say my case is going to be closed. I don't understand.
You are part of the homeless household support service aren't you?
I'm still a homeless household aren't I?

If I am managing [Support Worker] it's because I do not bid. A few weeks ago a friend got a council flat [down the road] and I fell into that now familiar abyss where I didn't want to be alive anymore. She had way more points than me and a child who hasn't started school yet. If that was me, I wouldn't have to worry about my son's education anymore. People are already asking me where he'll go for secondary and how can I know? My lease runs out the year I have to go to open days. I'm hoping for [the local boys school] or [the local mixed school] because that's what I want for him. He's doing so well at school. Enough turbulence. Like I said, I manage if I don't think about these things. I drown if I do. I CANNOT BID. When in "desperate need" I didn't get a place so I'm hardly going to get one now.

So yes, I'd like to see you. Is there a day other than Monday you can do? Or earlier in the day that Monday? I have to go to the job centre on Friday to be moved over to job seekers. A barrel of laughs I think not. I've just lost a pub job I had. At £6 an hour though, it was never going to pay the rent.

I hope you're well and look forward to seeing you

Sue de Nim

Fresh Starts

"I can't remember what to do on the first day back at school mamma," says my boy as we walk the walk to school.

"Oh just keep your head down and don't annoy the teacher. You don't want her remembering your name for the wrong reason on your first day.." (although have just remembered he's already singled himself out for talking while she was when they visited the class last term. Whoops - he's one that gets caught my boy, just like I used to..the apple indeed never falls far from the tree)

"No, I mean in the playground before the bell goes,"

"Oh, just stand by me until you spot one of your friends then go and play!"

"Then I won't see you for 80 hours mamma,"

Then the bell goes and I can't believe we didn't make it in before it because we were up so early and left in good time.

Last night I asked the arch angels to look after my boy, look after him, look out for him.

OK, I admit, I asked the arch angels to look after me too.

I have to present myself to the job centre on Friday to be taken off income support and placed on job seekers. The actions I am taking for work now I shall keep in my pocket for when I have to "prove" I'm looking. Failure to "prove" and I lose my benefits don't I?

Support worker is coming round this afternoon, he I have not seen for yonky donkey years, to "close [my] case"

I'm still in the same situation though; statutorily homeless and he is still part of the homeless households support team.

What does it mean exactly, my case being closed? Am I not eligible for social housing anymore?

I shall have to ask.

That's the thing with fresh starts. You can want them, you can chase them but there's always the reminder, for one such as myself, that it's just an illusion. The foundations are so insecure, like walking over floating blocks to get to the other side of the river.

Not for my son though. Year 4!! New teacher!! Same school, same friends, I thank the Universe for that, for him. His foundations are secure for all the new things that he is to experience and learn.

I understand within myself what I have to do - make a dash for it - and if I can just stop being frightened of falling in, I may just fly.

You know?

I don't know.

I Don't Know but I Want To.

Yeah?

Summer hols for the stay at homes

A bit of a coincidence writing about the cost of childcare then seeing the Guardian has written a much better article I ever could.

Summer holidays cost parents £8.6bn apparently. It says parents will spend an average of £660 per child over the next 6 weeks. I won't spend that much, I haven't got that much though it works out to £100 a week. Easily spent....

I was thinking see, as I was scrubbing the cooker, that London may have all these free museums and parks (if you don't go to Tory held Battersea where they want to start charging children), but this is the first summer I'm not carrying my son on the back of my bike.

That means a bus or tube to all these free places, free events.

Fuck.

Of course on any day trips I'll bring sandwiches and tap water. No canteen lunch for us!

There's a kung-fu week that costs £90 for the week..food, entertainment, training etc all in. Parents have said what a good deal it is. It might be, depending on what you're looking through. Shame they don't do credit... I could try ask the Foca... Means I could guiltlessly do my pub job...

I'm looking forward to hanging out with my boy though. Might be the last year he looks forward to hanging out with me!!

Here's the article

http://www.guardian.co.uk/money/2011/jul/22/summer-holidays-cost-uk-parents?CMP=twt_fd

Though to end I have to say the only way to avoid the high costs of childcare, whether you outsource it or do it yourself, is not to have children at all.

Helpful aren't I?

End of term, end of year!!

A year ago I was in tears not knowing if my son would be at his school this year, as we faced our imminent eviction.

His school report came back on Monday - fantastic. He's above average for everything except music and pe where he's at the national average for his age.

He bought his work home two days ago, and I know I'm biased but his stuff's brilliant! I've been reading through it all, like his viking work for History: "Dear diary, How dare them, I just want to kill them but that would be a ruin to God's creation. How stinky are they, they smell like dead fish!"

I'm really proud of him for trying so hard and doing so well. I'm really proud of the school for challenging him and encouraging him.

He's going back in September, into Year 4 - blimey doesn't time flash fast! I will keep praying all the dreams I have for his education, stay on the path that they are on now.

It means I must continue to live here, somehow... or be lucky enough to bid for somewhere in this catchment my boy has lived all his life.

Let me not think about that though. Let me simply enjoy the time we are going to have together.

Maybe some of his school friends will be kicking around over the holidays. That would be good, I know that's what he would like!

Happy end of scchool year if you have children too! Always a poignant moment!

Don't begrudge me working mothers...

The summer holidays are upon us!

Phew!

Phew?

I am fortunate I haven't had to battle to find my son childcare in a market where many centres are closing down due to the cuts in government funding. Monday morning my son and I can get up at our leisure and then plan what to do, together.

He's allowed to sit in the pub with me, not ideal, but at least there's no panicking to find someone or some place to take him while I work there.

Why then am I saying don't begrudge me working mothers?

A meeting last night, at the school, about the after school club. A preliminary meeting about what to do now council funding has reduced.

I'd been called in the morning asking whether I could represent those with concessions.

I was late getting there so listened to the various models being discussed - two members of staff, school governer, four parents including me, thrashing out ideas.

Then one says that the service could be "considered a "luxury" for those on income support who " don't actually need the service."

I said nothing, just smiled at one of the members of staff, as with her fingers she put the word "luxury" in quotations. Well, you do have to be careful what you say....

Not long after this, following a discussion on the number of concessions vs the number of full paying parents, this mother says she is a single mother and needs the service because she works.

Then she say that her son goes to a football club twice a week that costs her £3. £3 a week! My turn to think "lucky you!" Lucky, all kinds of children, disadvantaged or not.

The discussion banded around different models - get more parents paying full price? Reduce the ratio of concessions? No-one wants to lose this service and no-one wants to see existing staff face redundancy because the costs can't be met.

I spoke up at the end but citing my pub job, not my volunteering. Citing the paid stuff, not the unpaid stuff backing myself up with figures I was given at the citizen's advice bureau.

"It's an emotional issue," said the governer and unfortunately yes it is..

I failed to articulate any kind of defence for mothers on "income support". I know so many and most of them through the volunteering I do. I thought of Lucky and her mental breakdowns, other mother's I've met who are under so much pressure it is actually better for their child to be in the safety of the school/playcentre. I didn't say that though. No! Public speaking isn't my strong point... practice my weakness though, isn't that what I wrote yesterday?!

The purpose of this post as I digress further and further into all this, is the greatest assumptions made on "income support" mothers are often made by single working mothers, in my experience anyway. Maybe they feel that they can point the finger and they are only saying what other people are thinking. The mother yesterday didn't know I was a stigmum, though did at the end...things are never as clear as you think they are, we should all try to support one another really through these inflammatory issues....

I want after school clubs in all schools to keep going. Can they? Will they? In deprived areas too?

I do not know the best model but do know that if the number of concessions is reduced, a whole load of single working mothers as well as single non working but other stuff going on mothers will be fucked. Lone fathers too, of course, but they don't get peoples heckles up quite so much when discussing entitlement or access to things....

Monday morning my son's childcare has been outsourced - to me!

I don't know what we will do but it's London. There's the science or history museums, Tate or National or Portrait galleries, all free if it's raining. There's the heath where I shall spend endless hours being goalie. There are other things going on that you have to pay for. Very little is cheap.

Affordable childcare. The bane of many a parents' life.

(Unless they are a banker in which case they have scooped up some of £14bn in bonuses in this last financial year - £2bn more than in 2008/2009 according to the Mirror. "More than 323 staff at state-run Royal Bank of Scotland shared a pay and bonus pot of £375 million - an average of 1.16million each." (20/7/11p.14) Gosh, one could take ones nanny on holiday with them with that kind of cash....how kind the government to cut their tax and cut your services.... I don't know what more I can say...)

My son taken of Child in Need register

"People have to understand we're not the Gestapo."

So said the social worker as my son was taken off the Child in Need register and the spotlight taken off me.

At. Fucking. Last.

I told the two social workers that nothing had been done to help my child and I except putting more stress on me. I'd been accused of being the cause of my son's anxiety and blackmailed and made to feel like an unfit mother.

They accepted what I was saying and when I expressed my fears that we would face eviction again in two years (can you believe I started this blog two years before the previous 'warning' and lost lost lost) said I could contact them and self refer back to the social services should that happen but they'd had reassurance from my housing officer it wouldn't.

"I'm afraid of contacting you," I said. "Everyone knows now I can't handle the stress and fear of eviction, so what? The next time the social services will just go ahead and put my son on the Child Protection Register and declare me unfit to take care of him instead of seeing it's the system doing this to us?"

They wanted to minimise the stress on families, they said. It was difficult, so difficult now, they couldn't change housing policy, things are getting worse.. All things I know, they know I know. They weren't really interested to take the conversation down that housing route, and nor was I.

The social workers repeated that it was not in their remit to take a child away from the parent and they had to find ways to minimise the fear parents had about that.

My son has never been a Child in Need of support because of me. He was a child in need of support because of what was happening to both of us. I am glad the light has been taken off me at last and thanks to my boy, under positive circumstances.

The deputy head had started the meeting you see, saying he was way above the year 3 average in many of his subjects. A 4c in reading - year 6 level she said. 3b in literacy, 3a in maths - year 5. I was quite blown away by that and want him to stay in the school if they encourage him to that level. I want him in a school that encourages and challenges him.

Bullying was not mentioned. Messy affair ey...but since I spoke to my son's teacher, mentioning to her that she had allegedly said I contribute to my son's anxiety... the boy who had been strangling my son has stopped. I'd like to say the school dealt with that but in truth I think I did. That time I did. I had to. The bullying has stopped. Phew.

Year 3, a tumultous year for my boy. The eviction which saw him isolate himself at school, not helped by me. Sorting that out, then trying to form bridges with his friend A's mother and Ugly coming along and kicking off all the shit once more.

He's doing well at school, I heard this morning. A strong group of friends, the deputy told the social worker.

You know, I'm not a bad mother; I'm not a great one but I'm not unfit to be one. My child is a beautiful child and very ordinary in his amazing extraordinaryish way.

I leave this post and quite possibly the label about social workers with the letter my son and his classmates had to write to their new year 4 teacher as homework this week.

Heart in my throat, I wish him so much luck that it's an easier, more enjoyable, more confidence building time for him and that his friendships go from strength to strength. Against so many odds and a couple of unkind parents he has made his peer relationships work and I do thank his school for that. I love my son so much more than I can ever convey to you.

Dear New Year 4 Teacher,
I am a boy who is a bit mischervous but quite clever. I am good at times tables and big writing and I really like history and science. I am looking forward to year 4 because it is a new class, new projects, new nearly every thing. The project I want to do the most is world war 2. I think rationing will be cool learning and lots of fun.
Yours sincerely
[Stigmum's boy]

A coincidental breakthrough for my boy?

A text very early this morning from Mother on Whose Shoulder I Dropped My Head inviting my son for a sleepover on Saturday night.

Oh wow! First instinct.

What a coincidence...Second instinct but try to banish it. Son delighted then bursts into tears when I tell him it's a weekend with his dad coming up.

Coincidence is two fold and posting for that reason and that reason alone because it's hard to post about your child being bullied.

The story is also quite long so I've got to pretend I'm chainsmoking because edited sentences would find their way to me when I smoked. I have to breathe now, on my own.

First coincidence - Modern Mother wrote a post about her child being bullied yesterday. I commented on it, and wrote how I should write my experience of the difficulties in dealing with it..little did I know the opportunity would come up so soon.

Second coincidence - Mother on Whose Shoulder I Dropped My Head is school governer and I had a meeting with the school/social services this morning to get my son taken off the Child In Need register. Would she know that? We're not as close as we used to be....

After I wrote to the school head about what I believed to be the root causes of my son's bullying experiences, I mentioned it to the school governer because I needed advice, I wanted support and I believed her to be a friend I could trust.

There'd been a couple of incidences of my son's friends ganging up on him. Ugly's son was one of them and her boy was one of them. I mentioned it saying it was rough play, the boys were all friends, but sometimes they could step over the line, ya know?

Yes, she knew, her child's been on the cruel end of name calling, we had a good conversation about it so when she said "as parents you want to protect your child" I was like 'yeah, of course'.

Soon, very soon afterwards, there was a friday after school, the incident in the park, where I saw Ugly who had told tales on my boy sitting with Mother on Whose Shoulder I Dropped My Head.

Not one playdate for my boy since then. We've invited her son, she's invited everybody else's bar mine. What can you say? Like I said to her that day in the caf, you can't beg parents to have your child over to play.

I've felt upset about it all recently. I know two parents exclude my child ("Can he come and play at my house?" asked little A. "Sure, ask your mum." Nothing.) I didn't expect Mother on Whose Shoulder to do the same.

I get it though. I absolutely fucking get it. If it's not my child being picked on by the two other friends, it's hers so she is able to organise playdates outside school to minimise incidents inside. There's another boy in this group... D'you know, I'm tired..

I'm tired, I'm tearful, we all want the best for our children.

I couldn't give Modern Mother advice yesterday, other than to talk to the school because talking to the parents very often makes it worse.

For me it is fantastic she wrote that post, many mothers have commented, with their own experiences.. similar to mine; friendships run aground, talking to school the better option. That has been good for me to read, vicariously supported - here's the link again for you if your child's having a tough time : http://www.amodernmother.com/2011/07/my-daughter-is-being-bullied-.html

I will not be cynical about Mother on Whose Shoulder I Dropped My Head's invitation this morning though it is easy to be so. Perhaps she knew about the meeting with the social services, perhaps she didn't. My son said something to her last week when he found out one of the friends was going to her house. I don't know what but I do believe she has a kinder conscience than the parents of my son's other two friends.

My son wants me to swap weekends with his dad. Mother on Whose Shoulder I Dropped My Head (really really must change her name as it's a long time since I did that) texted to say the sleepover could happen another weekend.

I'll find out if it's her son's birthday. If it is I'll go through the whole rigmarole with the Foca.
If it isn't, my son may still want me to go through the whole rigmarole with the Foca.

"No-one ever invites me for a sleepover mummy" he cried this morning.

Fuck it, who cares if I'm crying now. Better my boy can't see and better I let it all go.

Year 4. Year 4 my son my sun. I hope things improve for you because it's not you, none of it is about you and never ever has been.

If it's the boy's birthday I'll sort it for you. If it's not, there'll be another time.

What do I cook my boy for dinner tonight?

Dear Mum,

Please can you not give me any type of pasta for two weeks because it makes me feel sick. I know every body in the world likes it but fishfingers are better. They give you vitamins for your brain and makes you top of the tops and it is delitious aswell. Lots of love [son].

School homework - persuasive letter

Not persuaded but I'll meet the challenge

Burger...

(heh heh heh not funny...)

"It's starting to stop" says son

My son's teacher pulled him aside before lunch yesterday to say that Ugly's kid had denied strangling him. Like mother like son ey, only he's eight and it's almost to be expected.

With irrefutable evidence, the pint sized bully (I will say bully even though I've told my son to take the word out of his own vocabulary so he feels less of a victim...) admitted to doing it 'once'.

My son, by his account, told the teacher that recently it was more like 'unfriendly hugs' and that it was "starting to stop".

"Unfriendly hugs? Unfriendly hugs?" I said to my son later. "Why are you protecting him?"

"Because he's my friend mamma," my boy replied.

The teacher told my son he was "being very grown up about it."

Yes, yes he is, more grown up than I ever have the courage to be.

The teacher told my son to come and tell her if it happens again. That he must come and tell her.
All power to my son, you know.

Really, not because he is mine but because now and then it's been extraordinarily difficult for him. He doesn't see a couple of his best friends outside school, although they see one another, so it's been easy for them to single him out which I know has been really hurtful to him in the past.

It's flared up again with the post parent snitching park bollocks of recent times.

Historically, the school has actually been brilliant about these tensions and my son's cheeky good humour helps him along alot.

He was amazing up on that stage yesterday reading out the "Invisible Clown" story he wrote. So nervous bless him, that he read it really quickly, but he was brilliant and got a richly deserved round of applause afterwards!

On Saturday he's doing his "White 2" Kung Fu grading.

I wish all our children well. It's not easy. Mind you, I'm not suggesting it ever was.

Afterall, quite honestly, how many of us would go back?

http://www.kidpower.org/resources/articles/prevent-bullying.html?gclid=CIv30ZDX86gCFUtC4QodLkBGRw

Cigarette moment haiku

Cigarette moments
come after you quit your drug
but still need to breathe

Must say, it is safe
and incredibly pleasant
I just close my eyes

I don't miss smoking
I remember it fondly
but never for long

Tackling child bullies

Oh it's tough this one... Fine lines, fine lines

"Tell him to stop, you don't like it," I told my son. The lad didn't stop, so yesterday afternoon I made an appointment with his teacher.

"I'm surprised," she said. "He comes across as such as mild-mannered gentle boy."

I could only nod in the affirmative, he does. Though I've seen him pile onto his friends, though I didn't mention that, so many young boys do that. Fine lines...fine lines....

She asked me if I got on with the boy's mother and I said "NO, no no no! I don't trust her. She denied she had a meeting with you for goodness sake. No."

Did I think my son might be exaggerating, because he knows I don't like Ugly, so wants to make something up.

I paused. Would you believe I paused. It's those fine lines... you've got to be able to walk it. I believe it to be one the greatest challenges of parenting but then my child is 8 and I feel I'm only at the beginning.

So I told the teacher about the day in the park, how I failed my son when he came over to me crying and how Ugly only reprimanded my child, not her own.. "So maybe he thinks he can get away with it."

I mentioned what happened in Reception, but with hindsight, it was my opportunity to tell the teacher what MY SON HAD ACHIEVED with his pals then, which then went wrong when I shared that with Ugly. I didn't take that opportunity.. so long ago you know... and the crap with the parents isn't over at all; not my concern but the children feel it....

"I told my son long ago," I said to the teacher, "that no matter how awful, no matter how bad he's been, he has always got to tell me the truth. If he doesn't tell me the truth, how can I defend him? He knows that, he learnt that in Reception when that woman called him a liar."

I have to admit to you reader, that I did tell teacher I wasn't looking forward to talking to her because she'd allegedly said I blow things out of proportion. I made no accusation and it was an opportunity for her to discover, if she didn't already know, that my son is a "Child in Need" on the social services books (for fucks sake).

Anyway.
She's going to talk to the boy, gently, about his friendship with my son
She's going to have both boys closely monitored in the playground (she told me when she's been on duty the two don't play together....I could only say I don't know because I don't know)
My child has free reign to tell whoever is on duty that Ugly's son has strangled him or grabbed him round the neck.

I can't ask for more really. I do wish my child had been accorded the same treatment when Ugly told the story of the one off pulling chair away incident which led my boy to spending a whole day in detention. On a par, I think repeatedly strangling a child is worse but it would be wrong for the boy to get punished just on my hearsay.

We rounded off the meeting with his teacher telling me how well my boy is doing. He writes incredible stories and he's reading one of them out today at his class assembly, on the stage, on his own (I'm so proud, so so proud of him!)

I dropped my son off at Kung Fu then went for a walk afterwards. Sat by the pond at the Heath. Watched the swans, noticed the magpies, tried to let go.

This morning my son I remind my son they're going to be monitored and to tell a member of staff if it happens again and my son says:

"It hasn't happened for ages mummy."
"WHAT?" I feel my heckles rise. "You tell me to go talk to your teacher and it's not 'happened for ages???????"
"The last time was Monday mummy and I told him to stop and he hasn't done it since."
My brain shifted and fell back into gear.
"It's Wednesday morning son. That means he didn't hurt you yesterday. Still, if he has stopped at least you know you can deal with these things yourself, do you hear me? You can do it! In the meantime, it's good I've said something, so we'll just have to see, ok..."

We'll have to see
We'll have to see
Walking fine lines
It helps if you can see

Very best of luck to any parent going through something similar with their child. I do not wish any such thing upon you or your children, ever.

At some point I may write what my son achieved in Reception, but not today if that's ok.
I have not enjoyed writing this post and must now go outside and have a cigarette moment!

How we hide from people

Bumped into my son's friend G's dad in the coffee shop.

"How are you?" he says, because it's been a while.
"Good! You?"

He tells me he's got jet lag from a work trip, his wife's gone off on a mini break with a girlfriend for three days so he's left looking after the two boys. I don't need to tell you about this family but a challenge is what I will say.

"How about you, what are you up to?" he asks

Oh, I've got a meeting with our sons' teacher this afternoon because Ugly's boy's been strangling mine and to tell the truth, I'm not looking forward to it one little bit because I didn't tell you did I...

No, I didn't say that. Told him about the voluntary work, pub work, oh and asked him if he'd seen the Street programme last night and he had, from the corner of his eye while tidying up after the boys had gone to bed. I didn't tell him what was really on my mind at all.

We hide from what we think sometimes don't we

I don't really hide on here because it is my hiding place.

So it's already a bit wierd I've joined Twitter!

That doesn't feel like a hiding place (bizarrely, given its millions of users)

Will it affect what I write on here?

What do I say on there?

It's like two worlds coming together

And I converge onto them

Still hiding

because I don't exist

but not hiding at the same time, because I do

How funny/wierd/strange/great/mad

I'll let you know how I get on

here?

there?

Here and there?

Time for lunch methinks!

Why can't I defend my child?

I have to write 'why can't I defend my child?' because I can, of course I can, it's just not easy.

My son is being strangled by a boy at school.

He has asked this boy to stop, several times my son tells me, but the boy doesn't and my son is getting increasingly upset. Didn't want to go to school this morning, I said it would be fine. Well, you do don't you....

A playground teacher saw the boy strangling my son, asked him why he was doing it and was told that my son had pushed him. So my son got told off. My son didn't tell the teacher it was in retaliation, my son told me. Why isn't my son defending himself? I asked him that, he had no answer.

I told my son to talk to his own teacher. He's too afraid. He's asked me to do it.

Easy you might think, and believe me, I do admonish myself with the time it's taking me but fuck, fuck fuck fuck.

The boy in question is Ugly's son.

Ugly who told tales on my boy and got him a day's detention.

The strangling has been going on since the incident in the park just before Easter.
Ugly's son witnessed his mother telling off my boy and getting clean away with the pain he was inflicting on my son (I alluded to this in a post, I failed to step up for my son when that happened that day)

I cannot talk to Ugly so rule that out straight away

It has been difficult for me to approach the teacher for three reasons.

1. The boys are friends..part of a bigger group of another three boys.

2. I made a right rumpus about my son getting a day's detention on a parent's hearsay so it's fair to say I'm not parent of the month. I told her that Ugly had denied the accusations she'd made at the parents evening and teacher said "I understand, history, I understand". Will she brush this off?

3. My son is always getting told off by his teacher and I don't want to make things worse for the little lad.(A recent incident was after the holidays when the teacher told the children that R's mother had cancer and my son said "I got a new duck" and the teacher said "Get out of the classroom!" which I thought was a bit harsh, all things considered....)

You know, fuck it, I should just make an appointment with her. I know these boys rough play all the time and I have grilled my son sufficiently on that these past two weeks to make sure the strangling is really separate from all that.

I wasn't going to blog about this but my monday has started off so badly that I may aswell pour all my shit out. Because it is shit.

Shit shit shit.

Still, ironically I have a meeting this afternoon, I'm on the Committee for Safeguarding Children.

Oh ha ha ha. oh ha ha ha ha ha ha.

I can safeguard mine.

I CAN. I MUST. I WILL.