Grab a chair and a couple of root beers...

Note to self: After a night of having other people keeping you awake (and not in a good way, either), so that you get about two and a half hours of sleep, and then finally getting into a writing groove when you give up on ever getting back to sleep, and having it INTERRUPTED (looks accusingly at Impertinent Daughter)...

... do not then drive into San Marcos and be fooled into thinking that because the kids did great at the library and didn't make you want to wring their necks even once, it would then be no problem to stop at Hobby Lobby on the way home.

Never. Again.

I actually got some editing done on my slash novel at the library. Which was... wonderful. Miss Priss found books and manga, and managed to introduce the Impossible Son to a new manga which he is devouring. They sat at the table with me, reading and talking quietly while I worked, and then we went to check their books out. And I thought, oh, yeah, they were great at the library, we won't be at Hobby Lobby long, I just need a few things for beadwork, it'll be fine, even if the Husbandly One isn't with us.

Nope, not making that mistake again.

Mr. Impossible doesn't like going to craft stores unless we're getting something for him, and then he wants to escape as soon as possible. And he's operating under the mistaken assumption that if he irritates me enough, I'll leave the store and go home where he can play video games in peaceful bliss, and I'll be happy to be home and won't say a thing to him.

No matter how many times this fantasy does not play out, he still firmly believes it.

Let's just say that the fact he survived to leave the store is a miracle in and of itself. And he has somehow conveniently forgotten that I told him if I left the store before I was ready, and before I'd gotten the things I needed, he would not be playing his DS, or on any of his game systems. Dammit.

Seriously, I need a nap liek whoa. Or a caffeine IV. That is, if my head wasn't already going explodey.

Shoot me. Just shoot me now. Please.

*head-desk*

Dear Principals, Teachers, and other concerned adults,

You wanna prevent bullying in schools? Really? Want me to tell you how? Okay, stop with all the "Oh, let's build up self-esteem and tell the bulliessocially awkward and overly enthusiastic children that bullying is wrong and hurts people!!" crap, because y'all have been doing that for about, what, ten years now? Is it working?

NO. It's NOT.

Let me elucidate for you. The BULLIES already know that bullying is wrong. They already know it hurts people. That's why they do it.

They don't do it because they have low self esteem.

They don't do it because they're unaware of their own strength.

They have a sense of entitlement, and they know their own strength and have no trouble at all using it.

Why?

Well, maybe they're being abused at home, and they're acting out. Maybe one or the other of their parents is a bully at work, and has given their child the impression that the best way to get what they want, to get things done, is to bully people. Because if you think bullying stops when the bullies graduate, you are living in a dream world.

But the main reason bullies do it? Because... they can get away with it. They know that you, the principals, teachers, administrators, counselors, etc, will only do so much when one of their victims is brave enough, or desperate enough, to report them to you. They know you will take them into your office, sit them down in chair, and talk gravely to them about bullying. You'll ask them if they understand what they've done, and they'll say and do whatever they need to in order to get you to leave them alone. They know you will nod, and frown, and speak firmly to them, that you'll say something about calling their parents, and then let them go back to class. You'll send them to the counselor for a few weeks, who will also talk gravely to them, maybe make them watch a video or two full of those "happy, happy, cheerful, cheerful, don't be a naughty bully!" crap that does nothing at all whatsoever, maybe have them draw a few pictures, and then release them back into the population of the school. A few weeks will pass where the bully will do nothing. Then, when everyone's breathed a sigh of relief that the bully has been magically cured...

... it will start all over again

You might go a little farther if the victim's parents throw a hissy fit and mention the words, "lawyer," "lawsuit," and "police involvement" when they call you or storm into your nice, quiet, clean offices. You might give the bully an "in-school suspension."

Or you might send the bully home for a few days with a mild suggestion to his/her parents to see a therapist, or even to just "communicate effectively to your child that bullying is wrong!"

All you've done is give that kid a three day vacation from school work.

Wanna know how to stop it? Really, really stop it?

For one thing, tell your teachers when they're on playground duty to stop gathering in little clumps and getting so involved in conversations with each other that they only notice bullying when it's reached the point that someone is either bleeding or has a broken bone. If they're on playground duty, they need to separate and walk around the playground. They need to pay attention when they see a group of girls around one single girl, and need to notice the expression on her face. If she's crying, looks angry, or terrified, she's being bullied, you nitwits, not playing a game!! If a boy is being pushed down to the ground and two other boys are kicking him, it's bullying!!

Shit, people, this isn't rocket science!!!

And so help me, if you come back at me with, "What, you mean I'm supposed to actually watch the kids like they're in jail??" I am going to kick you so hard, your grandchildren will feel it! Yes. You are supposed to watch the children. You are supposed to walk around, keeping your ears and your eyes open. You're supposed to intervene before fists fly, before words that are worse than sticks and stones hit, before that one kid who stutters, who is smaller than the others, who wears weird, hand-me-down clothes, who has unusually colored hair, who wears glasses, who has braces, or whatever other fucking stupid reason bullies use to justify why they torment their victims is hurt again. That's your job.

That means at junior high level, you not only patrol the halls, you walk into the restrooms. What, you don't want to intimidate the kids? Why the hell not??? Isn't that your job, too?? What the hell else do you think is going to work?? Don't you remember junior high? Where did most of the worst bullying happen? IN THE RESTROOM!!!

And high school, same thing. PAY ATTENTION!! It isn't that hard. You did it every time you took your own kids out to play at a park, or at a family gathering, or any place where there were other kids, some of them older and bigger. You watched your kids like a hawk, and swooped in like a fury when they were threatened, and gods, if you didn't, I feel so sorry for your kids.

Well, you know what? For eight hours a day, my kids are your kids. And you better damn sure watch them like a hawk, because if you aren't, then you shouldn't be teaching. Or a principal. Or a counselor. Or anything to do with kids.

Seriously, people. You want bullying to stop, you don't try to make them feel good about themselves. You don't show them flowery, happy videos, and you don't treat them like victims who are mislabeled, or misunderstood. You stop them. You make them know, in a way they cannot ignore, that they are being watched. You get in their faces and confront them. You tell them it won't be tolerated, and then you don't tolerate it. You call the police and file charges on the behalf of the school and the victim. You fine the parents. You do whatever you have to do to make it damn hard for them to get away with it. You give the damn bullies consequences. Remember those? You stopped teaching about those a few years back, right about when you stopped teaching logic and critical thinking.

Until you do this, it won't stop. It will keep going. You can't wish it away. You can't close your eyes and pretend.

You're just as responsible as they are for what they do, what they get away with, and the damage they leave behind.

Well? I'm waiting...

I do not understand the people who live in my house, sometimes. Especially the oldest one. You'd think, after being married to me for 18+ years, he would know that when I am in a grumpy, snarly mood to just... leave me alone. You'd think the two younger ones would know to stay away and not keep coming in every ten seconds to ask me questions.

I should come with a warning sign. "Warning: Grumpy, Snarly, Grouch Bear. Do not provoke Bear. Do not approach Bear. Do not address the Bear. Management not responsible for loss of fingers, toes, arms, or head. You have been warned."

I am grumpy, I am snarly, I am easily pissed off right now and do not want to be poked, hugged, cheered up, sympathized with, or otherwise bothered. Just give me the damn chocolate and make yourself scarce!!

*snarling and growling as she slinks back into her den*

My kids are driving me bananas.

Yesterday, they were arguing over who got to use the vacuum cleaner while cleaning the living room, and who had to clean under the big couch and who had to clean under the little couch (this involved crawling under said couches and pulling out the items that had disappeared under there. I am sure we will find Jimmy Hoffa at some point).

Yes. They were arguing over CLEANING.

*tears out hair*

Lest you think this is every mom's dream, let me say not much cleaning actually got done, and both miscreants got sent to their rooms, their computers turned OFF and their Nintendos in my pocket.

Today, it's constant arguing, and fussing, and I need chocolate in the worst way. As in enough to put me in a coma for the next two weeks, so when I wake up it's a whole new world. Preferably the day before school starts.

Think it's too late for me to sign them up for a military boarding school?

*grumbling and snarling*

CHOCOLATE. I NEED IT. NAOW!!!

I was a grumpy bear last night.  In fact, I went to bed early, thanks to a major dose of Benadryl, and the none too subtle nudgings of the Impossible Son.  "Mama, would you lay down with me? I'm tired, and I just want to go to bed.  The thunder's scary.  Please?"

I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.  Which is probably why I was none too pleased to be awakened barely an hour later when the Husbandly One said Miss Impertinent wanted to be tucked in.  So, being sleep-bleared and tweaked by that biological Mommy thing, I got up and went to do the tuck-in and the obligatory good night kiss, except as I reached to turn off the light, she chirped, "My tea?"

Every night, I make either a cup of Sleepy Time tea or Throat Soother's tea, depending on how she's feeling, with two teaspoons of local honey in it.  This has made a huge difference in her allergies (much to our mutual relief), and it's become sort of a ritual for us.  However, last night I had rather figured her papa had done it (he's done it before, no problem), and all I wanted to do was go back to bed and pass out again.  Desperately.  

I growled.

I made the damn tea.

And I went to bed, turning my back on the Husbandly One, and stolidly ignoring his overtures for cuddling.  And more.  I think I actually got a solid twelve hours of sleep, which was really nice.  Especially since I haven't seen sleeping all that well lately, thanks to not being able to breathe all that well.  Asthma sucks.  Big time.  Though to keep it in perspective, I'm much better than I've been, which is a Good Thing.

In other news, the Husbandly One wants to do a 5K tomorrow, which I'm not sure I'm ready for, and I have to admit, I'm somewhat apprehensive.  But he pointed out I've been doing more than that daily, so...

*pause for nerves*

I am sure I will survive.  Right?

*wibbles*

Of course, I may plant all four feet down, lay back my ears, and BALK.  We'll see.  It may be just what I need to get me out of my current funk.  I will be sure to let y'all know how it all worked out.

Grumpy, snarling bear alert. A large, very grumpy, somewhat vicious bear was spotted in the vicinity of auntbijou's home. Do not approach the bear. Do not provoke the bear. Do not even try to offer the bear chocolate. If you come unexpectedly upon the bear, back away slowly, speak softly, and get away as quickly and as quietly as possible. Bear was last seen, huddled over computer keyboard, gripping head, and struggling with severe writer's block. Muse was nowhere to be found. Try to stay out of the way of the bear's claws and hope for the best.

This has been a warning.  Please stay inside your homes until the bear has been apprehended.  Thank you.