Yesterday (OK, so I didn’t publish right away) my babies got bullied.
It was the physical kind of bullying, the kind I’d never encountered before, and it threw me for a loop.
I watched it happen, and now that the situation has passed, I’m not sure how I feel.
No. I think I’m sad.
Is a bully just a bully? Or is he/she just a kid acting out because not-so-great-things are happening in their lives?
When my twins ran off to play upon dropping them off at school, I stayed and watched them, like I always do. It’s HARD for me to just walk away when I can catch of glimpse of them making choices on their own in an environment that “belongs” to them.
I watched the little boy go up to my kindergartners…..and hit them. Out of the blue. At first I was confused. Was this some kind of game? And then my boys looked for me, saw me, and ran towards me. And the little boy followed them, hitting and pinching all the while. When we reached each other, I firmly told the boys, “tell him that you don’t like him touching you and that hitting is not OK”. The boy ran off and John burst into tears. “He was hurting me”, he sobbed.
It was just plain sad.
I expected anger, but all I felt really, was sadness.
Sadness that my sons’ were the victim of this little boys obvious emotional turmoil, and sad considering that the little boy was probably in a less than desirable situation making him act out that way.
I’ll probably never know if he’s just a bully, or a hurt little boy, but one thing I do know, is that I don’t like my kids being bullied.
If he tries that routine again, they know what to do.
And, just in case you are wondering what happened after I gave John a great big hug and we found the teacher for intervention? The teacher sought out the bully-boy. Hitting another unsuspecting child.
Speaking of school, if you haven’t nominated your teacher to win a $100 gift card to Office Max, now is your chance!