Mama Bear

I was wondering what was taking my son so long to collect his stuff when I went to pick him up from school today.  After about ten minutes, I went downstairs to find him.  What I was found was him, and two older, bigger students standing behind him–too close, clearly engaged in some type of something less likely to occur with an adult present.  Two older, bigger students who ran like hell when they saw me.  I freaked.

My kid says that this girl’s been bugging him, and of course, I want details.  Him being him, he doesn’t have much to say about it.  He’s a 5th grade boy (which, let’s be real, goes a long way toward explaining why he doesn’t have much to say).  Apparently this 7th grade girl’s been bothering him for about a week and today she enlisted a friend.  This friend is a 7th grade boy who had the “oh shit, I am SO busted” look on his face when I interrupted their little terrorist act.  I can totally pick that little punk out of a lineup, so he can run, but he cannot hide. . .  I practically stand on my head and spit nickels to wrangle from my son just who and what in theeee hell these little terrorists are all about.  He doesn’t know.  I go into full beast mode, and I swear I said this out loud, “Is she one of those bitch 7th grade girls who think they rule this school?” (One of the advantages of being on the school council is getting the scoop on school climate culture.  It would seem that the 7th grade culture is truly a bitch culture.  Mean girls.  Thank stars I have boys!)  And now I’ve scared him too.  Nice one, Wendy.

I didn’t even know I had this in me.  I’m not at all sure that this mama bear mode is because of the diagnosis, but mama bear is out of hibernation.  I work with students who’ve been expelled, students so disenfranchised with society and education that their behavior would make your skin crawl.  YOU DON’T SCARE ME, 7TH GRADERS!  And you better not try to scare my kid.


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