Sunday Scribblings - # 301 Normal

I think that for the potential emotional load, this is one of the most overlooked words in the English language.

What do you think of normal?

~~~~

Distractions

The teacher put him by the door in the front of the classroom on the end of the row and at the beginning of the first row. He liked it there because he was surrounded by girls and he could concentrate. But he managed to find something else to preoccupy his interest. His pencil. His itchy tag on his t-shirt collar. The blackboard. Anything could distract him from the lesson on fractions.

When he got into the lunch line, he was by himself. They were his buddies when they were younger. Now they couldn't even save a seat for him at their lunch table. At recess he walked around by himself, imagining himself to be the invisible kid or the chameleon kid, blending into the bricks of the building.

They used to talk to him and include him. Now he walked home alone.

Whatever happened to normal?

Copyright 2012 All Rights Reserved

Fairytale Bridge in Wales

Inspiration

You have the pain of watching

My youngest probably has ADHD. I've said it before, of course. We don't have an official diagnosis but it's all pointing there.

He has or rather had one friend in school. They say that one friend is all you need.

On Friday the high school had a back to school barbeque to raise funds for the Music Boosters. I'm a Music Booster mom so I was up there helping set up, brought my kids to eat, stayed for the concert and helped clean up.

My youngest called his friend to see if he was going to go up there to eat. He called once before we left the house. And once when we got there.

Apparently this kid had another friend over. The other friend told Harrey the youngest that they would not be there and hung up.

My youngest was heartbroken.

At school he's being shunned. The kids that were friendly to him are not anymore. Mostly they are not mean, they just don't want anything to do with him.

At lunch he was being crowded out of the two lunch tables where all his classmates sat. I called the school as this had happened several times. At recess he played kickball and there were kids who cut in line; I think I already blogged this.

I talked to the teacher and I talked to the social worker. The social worker confirmed that there was a problem on the playground and it was indeed the 5th graders. She warned them that there would be consequences to their actions. The next day Harrey sat with a couple of kids who were nice to him, including his friend.

The friend told him to leave him alone on Friday.

This same friend had him over all afternoon on Sunday and they played all afternoon with absolutely no problem.

It wouldn't be a problem except that this is my son's only buddy in his 5th grade class. Thank God, no seriously, thank God that he has two other friends who are younger than him.

On Friday after we came home from the bbq, he went in his room and got into bed. When I went to check on him he was laying down and facing the wall. Perhaps I handled it wrong but I gave him a couple of Boy's Life Magazines to read. I didn't want him to think depressing thoughts, but maybe he needs to. I just don't see how it could be good for a 10 1/2 year old boy to stare at a blank wall.

His confidence is shattered. He is irritable and hard to get along with at home. I know why he is this way and I cannot fix it.

My daughter has shunned her best friend from childhood; she calls her annoying and needy. Perhaps she is. But I understand the pain and loneliness of rejection for myself. And now, as a parent, I have the pain of watching it once again to one of my children.

Greek Salad Sandwich from Everyday Food

• 1 cup canned chickpeas, rinsed and drained
• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 1/4 cup fresh parsley leaves
• 1/2 small red onion, thinly sliced
• Coarse salt and ground pepper
• 3 ounces crumbled feta
• 8 slices rustic bread or olive bread
• 1/2 medium cucumber, thinly sliced
• 1 tomato, thinly sliced

Tuesday Ten

1 Went walking with a friend last night. Wonderful conversation and much, much needed.

2 It meant that Bruce was home with the kids so they were happy. It's free for all. LOL Poor Bruce.

3 I don't like the kids playing on video games during the school week. I tolerate the computer but they are only on it 2x a week each.

4 Bruce let them play last night.

5 Do you remember me complaining about being the bad guy all the time?

6 Harrey the youngest took Kiwi for a walk yesterday afternoon--a long walk to our local park.

7 Dear daughter was also at the park with her friends. Harrey brought the dog over to his sister and her friends and the dog was good. She was scared, we think, but she lay down and let her friends pet her.

8 Progress! WooHOO!

I'm Moving

This beautiful picture was taken by Jonathan Hutton and can be found at photo.net.

Find me over at The Scattered Stones.

Sunday Scribblings # 252

Near Brewer Street in London

Her skirt picked up mud and dirt from the wet, cobble street. She did not bother to lift them. The sidewalks were crowded, including the beggar children. She would not give this evening, even though they called out to her,

"Lady. Please. Just a penny, ma'am, so we can eat."

On normal days, even in the summer when the sun shone low in the sky, Helen knew her surroundings. She was familiar who was coming out of the pubs or waiting in their livery wagons or black hansom cabs. There was an older lady who put away her wares into her store. Sometimes the lady bid her good evening. She knew the sounds of the children laughing and crying from a window above. They were comforting, familiar sounds of her walk home to the tenements.

Tonight she heard footsteps behind her.

She noticed them after she left the master's house for the evening. At first Helen thought that her imagination was running away from her. She stopped to cross the street and heard the steps coming closer. Her shoes sounded harsh and clunky on the cobbles so she tried to walk on the balls of her feet. She tripped a couple of times and almost fell.

She ducked into a small sidedoor of a local hat shop. The footsteps stopped. Helen could tell that the person looked around and came down the alley. But the footsteps went back to the walkway softer and softer. Helen pushed back a hair that had floated near her mouth and peeked out both ways. A couple of delivery boys and all was clear.

The gangway led to her street and with a quick left turn, she was almost home. And then she heard them again. Quick and gaining on her.

She crossed the street without looking.

"Hey, watch out, Miss," the cabbie yelled, but kept his horse at a full trot.

Helen passed by two windows. Then a door. Then another two windows, two doors and a gangway. Finally, she found her place. She knocked on the door. The fire was going so her landlady was home and waiting to let her in. The steps were closer, louder.

"Mrs. McMinn, open the door." Helen used her knuckles to knock quickly. She could see the figure, a tall man, dark, his face hidden, as he came towards her.

"Mrs. McMinn, please open the door. It's Helen." She pounded the door with her fist.

"Excuse me." The voice was deep and quiet.

Helen shook as she turned to see him. She clutched the doorknob and leaned back on the large, wooden door.

"I've been following you for several blocks. I didn't think I would catch you." He removed his hat. His hair was a light brown and he ran a hand through it to smooth the tousles. He leaned closer and she saw that his features were hardened and unfriendly.

"You dropped one of your bags, back there, near Brewer Street. I didn't think I would catch you." The man held up her small black purse.

Helen let go of the knob. "I didn't realize it was gone." She slowly took it from him. The light from the fire cast shadows on his angular face; a handsome but stern.

"What was all that noise? Oh, Helen, yes, come in, child. Oh, am I interrupting? I beg your pardon--" Mrs. McMinn's round face smiled as warmly as the fire in her parlor.

"This gentleman brought me my purse, Mrs. McMinn." Helen stood straight and pushed back the loose strand of hair. "Thank you, sir."

"Well now, please come in, won't you and have some tea?" Helen's landlady opened the door. The man seemed to hesitate.

"No, thank you, ma'am. I best be getting back to work near Air Street. It's getting dark and it's not safe." The man tipped his hat and walked away. "Good night."

~~~~

For more Magpie Tales, please click here.