Tuesday, October 23, 2007

prepubescent angst

It sucks to be 11.

I wish I could go to the school and smack around a bunch of 6th grade jackasses, but I don't suppose that would set a very good example.

The Boy had a rough week last week and, bless his heart, there doesn't seem to be any end in sight.

First, he lost his girlfriend. He was okay with that. What got him was the fact that the other kids latched on to the fact and have been teasing him unmercifully about it. Throw in the fact that in his three core classes, where he spends most of his time, he is the only one from his elementary school, surrounded by kids who all went to school together for years, who apparently are not very welcoming of "outsiders."

The Boy has never had a great deal of friends, but who really does? His best friend since kindergarten lives right through the woods from us and the two of them have stayed pretty tight. Thank God, otherwise The Boy would probably be ready to give up on middle school altogether.

This is the worst part of being a parent. The miscellaneous bits of paper, chewing gum and rocks found in the bottom of the washing machine are nothing. The colds, the scrapes, even the seizures — these I can fix, mostly. But to see my child suffering at the hands of a bunch of jackass kids who have nothing better to do than razz him all day — that kills me. I am left helpless.

The Boy is losing his patience, and I'm waiting, with bated breath for the principal to call because I'm pretty sure my boy is going to end up flying hot on one of these little punks. He has one of those dangerously misleading temperaments. The Boy comes across as calm, cool and collected, but inside he is a seething mix of anguish and anger. It all bubbles beneath the surface, waiting to erupt. I just hope he doesn't hurt anyone.

Yesterday The Boy told them he didn't care what they thought of him, because he had plenty of friends outside of school, including a bunch of officers from the Sheriff's Office. The others kids called him a liar of course.

"Am I going to have to send the SWAT team down there," I asked The Boy as he recounted his tell.

His eyes grew wide and he smiled, "You could do that?!"

"Well I probably can't get them to storm the school in their ninja turtle girl, but I'm sure a couple of the guys would swing through to drop something off for you."

At that moment, I was The Boy's hero.

And it beats the hell out of me going and strangling a bunch of shithead little kids!


  1. well, look, his relationship with his girlfriend lasted 5 days longer than MY longest relationship! so go The Boy!

  2. It's so hard, isn't it? It brings back rough memories of all the humiliations of the past. My stomach knots with anxiety as I'm reading your post.

    It's a pity that clocking the bully a few days ago didn't buy him more capital. Like my daughter says, "The playground is a mean place, Mom. You've got to be tough."

  3. Middle school, in particular, is so hard on the soul.

    I say, hell yes....send the swat team.

  4. Hey, Alice-

    You've been gone for a week. Everything OK? Just getting ready for LOA?

  5. you're right. it does suck to be 11.

    but you're a good mother. the boy will come out of this ok.