Bullying

I just read Pottymouthmama's last post and the comments and I am riled and would like to add my voice.

Deep breath, commence diatribe - I was sitting around crafting with three other women on the weekend and we all described the bullying we experienced in high school, the heartbreak, the withdrawal, and tragically the acceptance. Worse still, I know that after experiencing bullying, and operating in a culture of bullying, as a young person, I was guilty of bullying behaviours myself. How shameful that is for me now.

My son is being bullied at school.

There are bullies in the workplace.

Bullies in families.

Bullies in cars.

Bullies in government.

What happened to Oz that easy going, laid back country? We are a nation that not only tolerates bullies but has the expectation of bullying. How many times have you heard people respond to bullying stories with - "Well, there is nothing you can do, there are always those kids/bosses/workmates out there like that. You just have to learn to get over it - Suck it up!"

Bullshit!

Bullying is intolerable. Bullying will break your spirit and your heart whether you are the perpetrator or the victim. Bullying decimates your sense of self worth. Its time we all stood up and said "Enough!"

For all those with kid's being bullied, please complain until you feel that your child is safe at school. Stand fiercely by your child's side and say "This is not good enough!' Take your kid out of school until they can guaruntee that they are safe and supported. Small children do not have to suck it up. No one does.

That crap about it being character building is nonsense.

That line is how the bullies get away with it.

That line is the expression of our cultural tolerance of bullying.

ENOUGH!

Astonishing Good Fortune

On The day you were born

by

Georgia Sutton, 2001

On the day you were born I was ready.

You took an age to emerge but when you were ready

You entered our world with a bump.

Astonished, I lifted you and held you. We cried.

Your father cradled you as the midwife gave you oxygen.

We drank you in, your mullet of long, black hair

and eyes, bottomless saucers of dark, navy blue.

You were so much bigger than that tiny yellow suit

We dressed you, fed you, bathed you, rocked you and didn’t want to put you down.

You and your daddy fell asleep, but I was too excited.

I sat and watched and I couldn’t believe my luck.

I was just trawling through some old stuff and found this that I wrote after my eldest son was born.* He is now 10 and a quarter, funny, empathetic, brave and kind. Astonishing still.

I still can't believe my luck.

* Tania's comment has just highlighted to me that this is a wee bit misleading. This poem was, in fact, written several months after J's birth through the rosy glow of hormones and hindsight, when I had a bouncing baby boy on my knee, and the trauma of birth and sick newborns was well behind me. I would hate to give anyone the impression that I sat serenely in my hospital room after his birth, in a silk negligée perfectly coiffured, upstairs and downstairs, with my moleskine at the ready for the muse to pour forth, as this poor bit or writing above would suggest. In my hospital room I was gobsmacked, pale and rooted from 2 days of labour, stitched from a- hole to breakfast, happy and hormonal and wondering why the hell all these people kept putting their hands on my boobs ** - like a normal person.

**Okay, okay, apologies again. I was shooting for 'I didn't have a perfect birth" and accidentally hit the "graphic visuals" mark. My tone-o-meter is way off today.

Holidays and Secrets drenched in Awesomeness

Holidays at home when its freezing cold and raining cats and dogs have their up sides. Like the fact that it's very cosy indoors.

And it's excellent crocheting weather.

Perfect conditions for playing pirates and princesses.

And when the sun comes out we can walk into town for the best babycino in town.

The weather is excellent for reading. Our bookgroup book this month is 'The Bookseller of Kabul' by a beautiful Scandinavian woman who can speak five languages whose name momentarily escapes me. And I'm reading 'The Book Thief' by Marcus Zusak to the luthier at bedtime. Both are proving to be bloody good reads.

Oh and as for secrets. shhhhh, but I have a secret which is so awesome I can hardly believe it.

The irrespressibly excellent Pottymouthmama had a giveaway and we won! Its for a Nintendo DS and Ninjago game. Sacha is going to pop his cowl when he sees that arrive. I am not going to tell him until it gets here because I want to relish the moment of pure thrill when he opens it. That boy is not going to believe his luck.

He has a bit of a tragic DS story. Santa bought him a DS the year before last and he was in love with it, right up until the moment he lost it about 3 weeks after Christmas. Since then, he only gets DS access when his brother is feeling particularly magnanimous and he is willing to beg shamelessly, or by stealth. To win this uber cool DS and game is going to totally pop his cork!

And I won it with a fart gag.

Thanks PMM.

Holidays: Day 1

It's School Holidays, Day 1: 11.14 am and there have already been two tantrums.

One of them was mine.

The other one is still going on in the privacy of the bedroom.

It's been far more loud, lengthy and spectacular than mine.

I really need to lift my game.