Diary of a (former) Wimpy Kid

So, let me just say I hated school from 6th Grade on through High School. There were some bright spots, but they were few and far between. I was picked on, called names, excluded, and on and on. I was lucky that I had a core group of loyal friends as my touchstone during this time, or else things would have been worse.

Have I mentioned I am grudge holder? Once or twice? OK, just checking. As I've gotten older, I've realized that my tormentors were dealing with their own demons. No, that totally doesn't excuse how they acted, but it explains why, I think.

I am grateful beyond belief that I was in school before the advent of texting, Facebook, and the like. The things I see Middle Schoolers writing about is, at times, horrifying. "Mean Girls" have nothing on these chicks. I want to believe these kids have no idea that words can hurt as much as fists...but in some cases, I'm not so sure.

I'd like to think I have raised my children to be tolerant, kind, and respectful (quit laughing, I did say, "I'd like to think...." Seriously. You can stop at any time). Moving on...I know the need to conform and be like everyone else when you are in school. You don't want to stand out or be different. Different=bad. If you blend in, there's less chance of getting hurt.

I gave birth to four non-conformists. While this is not a bad thing in general, it has not made their academic careers any easier than mine was. I've told my boys many times that school was something that they would have to survive, and college would be a different world.

Paige was hit by a classmate last week. The girl walked up to Paige and punched her. This child has a history of saying mean things to Paige (and other kids). As a mom, my knee jerk reaction was to flip out on the kid and her parents. I mean, honestly...if the child acts that way in school, how does she act at home? But, I didn't go postal. I made sure Paige was ok, and then I did something totally foreign to me. I was quiet. This is not to say I didn't address the issue with the school, I did. I didn't call my girlfriends and rant. I didn't vent my spleen on Facebook. I didn't blog about about it.

I just digested it all.

And tried to rid the thought of an ACME safe squishing the bully ala Wiley Coyote.

It's funny, when things were bad for me, I turned to writing about it. Most of the time, no one ever saw what I wrote. Sometimes, though, I would write papers for class about it. I've noticed that my children do the same. After the punching incident, Paige sat down, alone, at the computer and wrote a paragraph about what happened. She couldn't find the words to talk to me about it, but she found the words to write about it.

It's not easy being a Middle Schooler or High Schooler.

It's even harder being the parent of one.