stinky bully on the bus

Have you ever had the (almost) uncontrollable urge to grab a kid by the collar, throw them up against the bus and just light into them? I have. I'll admit it.

While I was very prepared to send Lorelei to preschool this last year, and she was eager to go, I think none of us anticipated some of the challenges she faced. As far as in the classroom, we were spot on. Her behavior and academics were exactly as we thought. Outside of the class was a much different story.

You see, every Friday at school Lorelei would get to choose something from the 'treasure box' in her classroom if she had a good week behavior wise. Each Friday on the bus coming home this older kid (2nd grader) would sit near her and convince her to give him whatever treasure she had gotten that week. One day she came home with this handful of smelly green goo. I was so confused as to what it was and how on earth she got it. There was no way it came from her classroom. She explained that she had a really cool treasure, but that boy told her she had to trade him for his goo. I never did figure out what it was, but it spread green dye all over everything. Gross. Needless to say, that was in the trash imediately. The next week she said she was allowed to get treasure box, but she had nothing to show for it. I asked her where it went and she told me he made her give it to him. That happened a few different times.

My first response wanted so badly to forbid her from every giving or trading her treasure box. Especially with him! But I knew that wasn't really the right call. So she and I had several conversations about choices. We talked about how she gets to chose for herself what she wants to do in those situations. During htose talks she admitted that she never really wanted to give him anything, but she always felt like she had to.

After a little while she was determined not to give him a single thing ever again. I was really proud of her because she struggles with standing up for herself a lot. This is something we work on at playgrounds and the pool and anywhere else we go.

Well, that was just the beginning of something even uglier than green goo. Once the boy realized she wasn't giving him her stuff, he started harassing her. Each day on the bus he would call her names tell her she was stinky. Then he would tell all the other kids that Lorelei was stinky and smelly. By the time she told me this, it had been going on for about two weeks. I couldn't believe it!

We talked about how that made her feel, and she said it didn't hurt her feelings too much because she knew he was just being mean, and she didn't really stink. But she didn't like that he did it. She would argue with him back and forth, "I'm NOT stinky! STOP calling me that!" she would say. To no avail.

Rather then tell her all sorts of clever witty things to say back like I wanted to, I chose the high road. Which, by the way, is possibly the hardest thing I've ever done. ;)  I wanted to go yell at him and yell at his mom. I wanted to go knock on his door with fists clenched. Instead, I convinced her to try ignoring him. That took some serious work because she has to have the last word in everything!

That didn't quite do the trick. He would just get louder and louder. So then we tried another tactic. I told her that she just needs to show him that she's not bothered by him. I asked her how she thinks she could do that. Her response, "Well, I guess I could just tell him something like, 'oh, that's nice.' when he says I'm stinky." Perfect. So the next day she went to school and did just that. She told me afterwards that he didn't really know what to say to her after that. She loved it. So the next time he called her stinky, she smiled this big cheesy grin and said, "Thanks!" and walked away.

I've never been more proud of little sarcasm before. After a little while he stopped completely. I was really proud of her. Mostly, she was proud of herself for learning that mean people are only mean to get a reaction.

More than all of those.. I was proud of myself. Nothing is stronger than a mother's instinct to protect her children. Even from dumb stinky bullies on the bus. The cut throat verbal attacker in me wanted to just go to town. I wanted to grab the kid by his neck and squeeze hard until he'd heard each and everything I had to say.

 I'm thankful that in those moments, and in those ongoing situations, God's grace is big. I'm thankful that in spite of what I want to do, God always comes through with a much better, wiser plan. I'm thankful that He has taught me that as a mother, my responsibility to guide and teach my children far outweighs any desire I have to right a wrong.