Posted by Kimberly on September 28th, 2006 — Posted in Diva Girl, Kipple, No Pudding Until You Finish Your Meat, iVillage, My Addiction
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It’s here! It’s here! It’s here!!!!!
I’m positively giddy today. Today, in addition to the half eaten lunch and still ever so exciting agenda, the package I’ve been waiting for since the start of school was stuffed into Sabrina’s backpack.
No, it wasn’t her school photo, although that arrived too. This was better.
Today I got my first Scholastic order of the year.
I’m a huge fan of Scholastic. I don’t have many vices, but those colourful catalogues are my drug of choice. I anxiously await their arrival, eager to rifle through the pages and be enticed by all the wonderful books offered at super cheap prices. Before I discovered the online bookclubs, it was a tossup whether Diva Girl would be greeted at the end of the day with “Hi! How was your day?” or “Did you get the bookclub flyers?” Now, I have my choices all picked out long before the order form comes home. It’s not the same though. While I enjoy not having to wait for my fix, I do miss circling my choices. There’s something about the Scholastic experience that demands sitting down with a pen and marking up the pages, circling every single book you’d like to purchase.
Looking at the overflowing bookshelves scattered throughout our apartment, most of them stocked courtesy of those pages, I have to admit that I tend to buy what I’ve circled more often than not. My major commitment this year is to buy more non-fiction. Last year I always felt a little guilty when I did have to whittle the order, because the resource books were always the first to be taken off the list. So many great books about the universe, ancient civilizations, math….all sacrificed in name of Arthur, Olivia, and Junie B. Jones.
I’m trying to be better this year, though; to indulge my passion for excellent children’s literature and show some self restraint at the same time. Now, the rule is that Sabrina, Regan, and I each get one pick–within reason. I usually choose a board book for Regan, and Brina’s choice is subject to negotiation and parental approval. In addition to those books, I order one non-fiction book.
It’s a system that’s working out so far. Today I pulled outHow Do Dinsaurs Play With Their Friends, How To Tame A Bully, Terry Fox: A Story of Hope, and The Book of Planets.
I may have to invest in a new planet one, though. Afterall, with Pluto’s demotion, all the reference books are out of date.
And if I’m getting that, I really should finally get A Poppy is to Remember.
And the new Olivia book.
And something for Hallowe’en.
And…..Well, I’m trying.
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Posted by Kimberly on September 26th, 2006 — Posted in Zen Baby, Kipple, Just Like Riding A Bicycle
This realization dawned on me this morning as I sat watching Zoboomafoo with Regan.
“Look Mama! They so Cute!”
“Yes, baby, they are.”
She’s completely absorbed in the ball squishing tigers. Me? I’m have a heated internal debate as to which is the cuter Kratt brother.
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Posted by Kimberly on September 21st, 2006 — Posted in Diva Girl, Kipple, iVillage, Heathers
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me!”
Yeah. Any kid who has ever been subjected to some serious teasing knows that that is a load of crap. Names hurt. And while they won’t break your bones, they can break your spirit.
Sabrina is normally a child who sparkles. Her eyes shine, she has a ready grin, and she positively bounces with the excitement of being alive. Lately, though, she walks slowly, with her head down. The isolation is taking its toll on her. Plus, it seems that Heather’s stepped things up by adding teasing to the mix. Now, in addtion to whispers of “crybaby,” there are taunts of “pipsqueak” and mocking comments about the size of her shoes.
Yesterday she asked if we could move so that she wouldn’t have to go to this school anymore. I won’t say I haven’t considered it as an option. In fact, I’d spent some time online checking out real estate in other school districts just the other day. But having my resistant to change, unwilling to live more than walking distance from her grandparents, daughter ask if we could flee from Heather brought home to me just how bad this has gotten. It also made me realize that moving was not the answer. Sure, it would take Diva Girl out of this girl’s range, but there are always going to be Heathers; I could move her, but there’s on guarantee that she wouldn’t encounter another one at her new school. And it’s a given that this one would simply pick a new target and continue along her merry way. Because that’s what Heathers do. Unless we make a stand and put an end to them once and for all.
So I made an appointment with the principal. Given the unsatisfactory response I’ve had from the teacher, I was a little nervous about this meeting. But I’ve always been impressed by the school culture this principal has created, and we’ve always had a good working relationship in the past. Plus, our principal is a woman, and I was counting on the fact that she too was once a little girl on the playground would mean that she would understand what I was talking about.
Unlike Mr. G, the principal knew exactly what I was talking about. She listened to my concerns, agreed with me that it was a classic case of girl bullying, and promised to work with me to put an end to it. When I brought my concerns to the teacher, I felt condescended to and dismissed; in my meeting with the principal, I felt acknowledged and supported. The two meetings couldn’t have been more different. From taking the problem seriously, to exploring possible reasons why Heather continues to target Sabrina (reasons that didn’t focus on blaming the victim), to brainstorming possible solutions, the principal couldn’t have been more helpful.
I’ve always had a lot of respect for this woman. She wears her authority gently, but with an unshakeable confidence. She has an expectation for “her” school, and is willing to put in the effort to foster the positive environment of her vision. She’s the kind of principal the primary kids hug and the intermediate kids respect. She’s also incredibly down to earth, as evidenced by her advice for how to deal with the teasing: No airy fairy recommendations to rise above it all and turn the other cheek here. Oh no. Her advice? Show Diva Girl how to give as good as she gets. Teach her a couple of replies that will stop Heather and her cronies cold the next time they decide to start mocking her size. She truly is a wise woman.
So, tomorrow when Heather, who wears a ladies size 3, comments on Diva Girl’s child size 11 shoes, my girl is going to look her in the eye and respond, “You know, I’d rather be Cinderella than the ugly stepsister.” I sort of wish I could be there to see it.
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Posted by Kimberly on September 19th, 2006 — Posted in Zen Baby, Oncology Odyssey, iVillage
I knew there wouldn’t be any bad news today, but I was still careful in picking out my outfit for this morning’s ultrasound. I learned from the first time not to wear anything I really like to an ultrasound appointment; even though the sticky jelly I ended up covered in washed right out of the dress, every time I looked at it all I could think about were the words, “Twelve Centimetre Tumour.” Eighteen months later and I still haven’t worn that dress again.
Everything is different now. Regan is a healthy, happy, active toddler, not a critically ill, undiagnosed infant. Instead of distended belly and a gaunt face, she’s got chubby little cheeks and the same slender build as her sister. Today she was old enough to understand what was going on, and to be bribed with a sticker; the first time we did this dance, she was too little to be anything but terrified, and all the princess stickers world wouldn’t have been enough to convince her to lie still on the gurney. A year and a half ago, the techs were inscrutable, sticking firmly to their “you have to call your doctor” scripts; now, they give me a subtle thumbs up, reassuring me that there’s nothing to see here.
A week after her first birthday I was told that Regan had a 12 cm neuroblastoma in her abdomen. The day after that, we began what I was told would be a long odyssey through the world of oncology. Three weeks later, it was over.
We were lucky. Well, as lucky as you can be when your infant has a tumour 1/8 of her total body mass stretching her bowel to the breaking point. But, it wasn’t a neuroblastoma. It was benign. Incredibly rare, and still potentially life threatening, but benign. Which meant that after the surgery to take it out, we were free and clear. No chemo. No chemicals, No hard choices.
Our family was changed by those three weeks in March, but it wasn’t shattered. While some of the effects of that experience are still being explored–Diva Girl, for example, is just starting to be able to talk about how she was affected by that time–it’s not an every day part of our lives anymore. As a mother, it’s always in the back of my mind, but luckily it’s only at the forefront of my life every six months.–like today.
We can live with that.
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Posted by Kimberly on September 14th, 2006 — Posted in Diva Girl, Kipple, iVillage, Heathers
I never thought while I was filling out the dozens of forms tonight that Brownie registration would turn into a lesson on equal rights. But you seize your teachable moments when they come, and Sabrina asking why she was enrolled in Guiding and not Scouts was nothing if not a teachable moment.
I thought long and hard before I decided to sign my daughter up for Sparks three years ago. First off, I had reservations about signing her up for any sort of structured group activity like this; it’s just really not who I am. Once I made the decision, I could have gone with Beavers; it certainly would have made sense since Emmett was a Beaver that year. But for me, and therefore Bree, the Boy Scouts were never really an option.
Part of it was the co-ed aspect. I agree with the Guiding philopsphy that girls need a place where they can be encouraged to shine. I’m not ready to send the Diva to an all girls school, but an all girls club? I think that’s a great idea. It might not be important to her self esteem now, but I’m hoping that in her pre-teen and teen years Guiding gives my daughter a place that encourages her to be a strong, positive woman, and to take that confidence out into the co-ed world.
That was only a part of the equation for me, though. And not even the deal breaker. The deal breaker was the different attitudes the Scouts and Guides have towards diversity and equality. I’m not comfortable with the Boy Scouts’ approach to “values based education.” While I respect the fact that the Boy Scouts and their supporters believe that they are acting in the very best interests of their children and society at large, when a group actively declares that members who, for whatever reason, are unwilling to conform to a specific, narrow view of the world are unwelcome, what they are doing is preaching exclusion and intolerance. And those are values I do not want my daughter internalizing.
So, on our walk home Sabrina and I talked about how people are different. They believe different things about the universe, they love different people, and they are all entitled to a place in this world regardless of their differences. I think that in light of Sabrina’s recent difficulties at school, this was a particularly timely conversation to have. As Sabrina put it, “everybody should be allowed to play. That’s why I’m in Guides.”
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Posted by Kimberly on September 13th, 2006 — Posted in Diva Girl, Kipple, No Pudding Until You Finish Your Meat, iVillage, Heathers
The problem with girl bullying is that the aggression is rarely on display. It’s easy to spot the classic bully; while he may be subtle enough not to conduct a playground shakedown in front of the teacher, his actions are rarely left as a matter of perception. He’s generally very up front about his motivation and tends to take a hands on approach with his victims. Not so with the Heathers. Unlike Butch, a Heather is rarely up front, and she never gets her hands dirty. Her brand of mean is best accomplished at a distance and under the radar. It depends not on direct confrontation, but on a far more subtle campaign of terror that is based almost completely on perceptions. Whispered insults and secret clubs, not fists, are her weapons of choice, and the damage, while just as real as a black eye, is often far less visible.
When it is, though, it’s heartbreaking. I think I would have rather come out from my talk with Mr. G to see a battered and bloody Diva Girl than the beaten, dejected child who was sitting in line, oblivious to the he happy chaos of the playground swirling around her. She’s the crybaby, but I was the one near tears as I watched her sit with her head down and her shoulders slumped, desperately trying to keep the hurt in and not care that Heather was making it a point to stand right beside her, deep in conversation with 3 other little girls in their class.
Sabrina wasn’t the only one feeling defeated on the playground. My meeting with their teacher left me feeling angry and frustrated. To say Mr. G was less than understanding about the problem would be an understatement. Mr. G “doesn’t see a problem.” He doesn’t see a problem because “Heather and Sabrina really don’t interact as far as he can tell.” And, to top it all off, he “can’t do anything unless Sabrina brings the problem to me herself.”
Yeah. Clearly Mr. G was never a little girl. And possibly, given that last statement, never even a kid. Of course you don’t see it! That’s sort of the point of bullying–it doesn’t make it hurt any less just because the scars are on the inside. And of course they don’t have anything to do with each other; that’s the way this scenario works. The entire point is to have nothing to do with Sabrina–to make her as much of an outsider as possible. Which brings us to point number 3. She’s already been labeled the crybaby. Now he wants her to be the tattletale too? And what exactly is she supposed to tattle about? “Jenny won’t play with me?” I know what my response to that would be.
I walked out of the school frustrated by the teacher’s utter lack of empathy and understanding of the issue, but bouyed by the fact that there was at least one glimmer of hope in this whole mess: Sabrina’s budding friendship with Madyson. When I went in, Sabrina and Madyson were together, catching up on their weekends; when I came back out, Bree was on her own and Heather had Madyson. I don’t know what happened in the five useless minutes I spent inside discussing the situation with the teacher, but I can guess. Social pressure is a hard thing to stand up to, even when you’re an adult. As a child, it can be near impossible. And it’s just human nature that when the Alpha in a group invites you in, you accept. I don’t blame Madyson for crumbling under the pressure; I blame Heather for applying it.
I’ve been trying to to teach Diva Girl about taking the high road through this, but when my daughter ran to me and buried her face in my back, clinging to me like a 4 year old on the first day of school, I cracked. As the bell rang, I bent down and whispered, “She’s a vicious little snot.” It wasn’t much, and it certainly wasn’t mature of me, but the grin that spread across Sabrina’s tear stained face told me that for that moment at least, it was enough. That’s all that really matters to me right now.
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Posted by Kimberly on September 9th, 2006 — Posted in Diva Girl, No Pudding Until You Finish Your Meat, iVillage, Heathers
I’m in love. After yesterday’s date, I’m absolutely smitten. I think she had me at “hello.” All bubbly and excited to be hanging out. And when she took Sabrina’s hand and started skipping down the street, well, I was gone. I’ve never had a mom crush before, but I’ve got it bad for Madyson
She’s everything I ever hoped for in a friend for Diva Girl. She’s polite, patient, kind, and has a mind of her own. She pleased and thank you’d her way through the three hours she was at our house. Not in an Eddie Haskell kind of way, but in the genuinely well mannered way that I hope my daughter behaves when she’s the guest. She included the baby in their games and didn’t seem to be begrudging her presence as she did so And she and Sabrina managed to cycle through most of the toys in the playroom–with the odd Arthur break thrown in just to mix things up–without a hint of argument. She was willing to compromise and play what Sabrina wanted at times, but was also able to stand up for herself and insist that they play her games too.
My heart melted as I stood outside the playroom door and listened to them declare their best friendness over a game of Mousetrap. And then it shattered as I overheard Madyson tell Sabrina about what Heather had been up to today.
It seems that Sabrina’sarch-nemesis, we’ll call her Heather ( I have before, because it fits), continues to live up to her namesake. It’s not enough that she’s not friends with Sabrina (not something I want to happen anyway); apparently, no one else is supposed to be friends with her either. At least, that’s the impression Madyson got when she and her minions cornered her on the playground and had the following conversation:
Heather: You don’t actually like Sabrina, do you?
Madyson: Yes. Sabrina’s my friend.
H: Well we hate her. She’s a crybaby.
M: I like her. I think she’s nice. And funny.
H: Well you don’t have to play with her. You can run away from her you know.
M: I want to play with her.
That was it, except for the fact that they spent the rest of recess watching the two girls at play, making their displeasure known.
This is classic girl bullying at its finest. The whispering campaign, the exclusion, the drive towards complete isolation, and the utter unwillingness to confront the victim head on (remember, it was only a couple of days ago that Heather told Sabrina she wanted to be her friend.) are all hallmarks of female bullying.
Now, much though I’m not ok with them calling my daughter names, I’ve gotta give then the crybaby one. She is a crier. It’s something we’ve been working on, and she’s doing a lot better with it, but it’s a reputation that she’s earned. And one they want her to keep–apparently winding Diva Girl up by teasing her about her small size (she’s a head and shoulders smaller than the other kids) is somewhat of a sport at school. I’ve explained to Sabrina that they’re actively trying to make her cry, and she’s been doing a great job of just brushing it off this year. But that doesn’t make it ok for them to try. And it certainly doesn’t mean that this little girl gets to decide that my daughter can’t have friends.
I’m not a reactionary parent, but I’ll be speaking to Teacher McDreamy on Monday. This has been going on since kindergarten, and it’s time for it to end. We did the “”just be nice to her and she’ll come around.” We moved on through “just ignore her.” and have dabbled in “stand up to her and she’ll back down.” Through it all, Heather has continued on her campaign of emotional torture. In Kindergarten, it was teasing that Sabrina wouldn’t be going Grade 1 beacuse she was too little–a claim that had my gullible girl in tears more than once. Grade One was the year that Heather decided no one should attend Sabrina’s birthday party–and only 2 of the 6 invitees actually showed up. Grade Two was quite simply hellacious. A daughter who was heartbroken, picked on, and desperate for social interaction.
I don’t believe this situation is going to get better. I don’t believe this little girl is going to change. I don’t believe, even if Sabrina has finally found friends of her own and the strength to put Heather in her place, that this little girl should get away with what she’s done. And I don’t intend to let her.
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Posted by Kimberly on September 8th, 2006 — Posted in Zen Baby, Kipple
Zen Baby and I are walking down the street, catching up on some errands while the Diva Girl continues her social networking at school. Suddenly, a bus pulls up beside us and lets loose a spray of exhaust.
“Mama, that bus farted!” Regan exclaims, loud enough for every other person on the sidewalk to hear.
“Say “‘Scuse me,” bus! Say “‘Scuse me!”
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Posted by Kimberly on September 6th, 2006 — Posted in Diva Girl, No Pudding Until You Finish Your Meat, iVillage, Heathers
Watching the playground dynamics this morning was an exercise in maternal heartbreak. I stood there, powerless, watching Sabrina once again on the outside of the crowd. I suppose it could have been worse; focussed as she was on rooting through her backpack she didn’t seem to notice that literally every other girl in her class was engaged in a rowdy game of Kings Court just a few feet away. But I did. And as she ran off to play alone on the climbers I wondered again, why doesn’t she get it? Why doesn’t she seem able to see or negotiate the playground politics.
If Bree were a shy kid, a quiet kid, a kid who did not thrive on social activitiy, I’d understand. I’d even encourage her loneresque ways. Lord knows that I’m no social butterfly. But the problem is, that Sabrina is. She loves people and generally hates to be alone. She’s never happier than when she has someone to talk to and play with. Which is why I don’t understand why she has such a problem figuring out the social dynamics of the schoolyard.
Much though I’d like it to be, it can’t all be Heather’s fault. I certainly think Miss Queen Bee has contributed to the problem, but I’m willing to acknowledge that she’s not really the root of it all. Sabrina doesn’t seem to “get” social codes. Today is a prime example: Every other girl in her class was playing a game together, and yet instead of joining in and making a place for herself in the group, she chose to stay away. She chose to cast herself as an outsider, even though I know that is the role she hates most. And I realize that it was possibly because the thought of being rejected was just too much to bear (an idea that breaks my heart), but I don’t think that was it. I think it honestly didn’t occur to her that to make connections with these girls, she should play king’s court, even though she would rather be on the climber. Clearly that’s something we’re going to have to work on more.
There was one victory in the day, though. After yesterday’s “Maybe I’ll be your friend” bombshell, Sabrina and I had yet another talk about what friendship is really all about. Today, my Diva Girl told the Queen Bee that she could be her friend or she could not be her friend, but maybe wasn’t an option. I’m really, really proud of her; last year, she would have simply fallen in line with Heather’s attitude and done anything she could think of to win her over. Even more surprising, Heather has apparently decided to be her friend, and spent all three recesses playing with her today. I’ll admit, I don’t like Heather, but I’m glad for my daughter’s sake. But I’m still gonna wait and see what tomorrow brings before I start jumping on any bandwagons.
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Posted by Kimberly on September 5th, 2006 — Posted in Diva Girl, Kipple, No Pudding Until You Finish Your Meat, iVillage
I’m not sure who was more exicted this morning on the walk to school–The newly minted third grader or her mommy. Sabrina skipped along the side of the road, happy to be returning to school and speculating about the day ahead–who would her teacher be, which kids would be in her class, how many As would she get? We also reviewed some friendship ground rules: Friends are people who like you and want to spend time with you. You cannot force this on people. If someone doesn’t want to play with you, instead of getting upset or chasing her, you should just find someone else to hang out with.
While Sabrina might not have good friends on the playground, I do. And after a long summer spent mostly away from home, I realized that I could hardly wait to reconnect with them. It was a bittersweet, though; as I rounded the parking lot it hit me: many mothers would be waiting inside the gates, but Susan would not. Remembering that, and how much I always looked forward to her smiling face and down to earth take on life–an island of serene calm in the schoolyard chaos–made me miss her all over again. Sabrina also missed Emmett, who for better and worse has been her constant playground companion since kindergarten, but in the end the excitment of old friends and a new classroom proved to be successful distractions for both of us.
She got “The New Guy, ” which means that for the first time ever, Diva Girl will have a male teacher. I’m kinda excited about that. (Get your minds out of the gutter! Not that way! Besides, he’s probably married.) Not that I think that, with her 4 uncles and very active and involved grandfather, Sabrina is lacking in positive male role models, but I think this could be a very positive thing for my emotional, complicated little girl. Judging by the way she bounded out of class at the end of the day, and how often I was treated to insights about life according to Mr. G, I think Sabrina’s feeling pretty good about it too.
More than the “gotcha” system or the presence of Rainbow Magic books in the classroom library, the big news of the day was they got agendas! This is a VERY! BIG! DEAL! apparently. We’ll see how excited she is about it when I’m signing her homework.
Finally, Heather, the Queen Bee who spent last year making it her personal mission to torment Sabrina, is in her class. I wasn’t pleased about that, but I decided to use it as a teachable moment. Instead of allowing her dismiss this girl outright, I went against every maternal instinct I had and encouraged Sabrina to give her chance to prove herself. Partly I was hoping that Heather had matured over the summer (and that without her chief minion, who moved at the end of last year, she’d be far more willing to play nicely). Partly I just didn’t want to teach my 7 year old to be so cynical that she would reject a genuine offer of friendship. Imagine how thrilled I was when, nearly as exciting as the agenda, was the news that Heather said she might be Sabrina’s friend. If she’s not too busy with every other girl in the class.
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