This Ain’t It, Chief
I’ve gotten a few things wrong recently.
Actually, no. That’s not a fair assessment. I have gotten a few things less right than I might like. To say that I have been wrong is to suggest failure. I haven’t failed. Not yet. I have identified an opportunity for improvement. A change of course. A revision.
Last week, my sweet Maxwell came home from school in tears. It seems that his “friends” had been recounting “stories” about him at school. These “stories” supposedly described events that took place at a recent group sleepover. If these “stories” followed a movie maturity rating scale, they would surely be rated R or higher. The truth in these “stories” is difficult to decipher. As the saying goes, there are three versions of the truth - mine, yours, and what actually happened. Is Max an angel? Absolutely not. He occasionally often makes really dumb choices. It’s par for the course in adolescence. But I KNOW him deep down in his soul. I believe him and support him no matter what.
After some lengthy and uncomfortable conversations with Max to decipher his version of the truth, I began reaching out to parents of the other boys who were present at the sleepover, asking them to speak to their children about squashing conversations about the sleepover. I found myself sucked into a vortex of he said/he said. After some reflecting, I realized that I was missing the point entirely.
My child was the subject of rumors being spread by a group of peers, who were also ganging up on him via text. The rumors caught fire and made their way through the sixth grade. Kids were randomly confronting him with versions of what they had heard. They were teasing him and making jokes behind his back. He was terrified to be at school. And that, my friends, is when Mama Bear woke from hibernation.
Over the course of 24 hours:
I instructed Max to stop discussing the rumors, whether in-person or via text. He chose to block the troublesome sleepover “friends” from his phone.
Hubs and I began driving Max to and from school, instead of encouraging him to ride the bus. His ability to tolerate even the most mundane social dynamics was depleted.
I worked with Max to identify a group of friends he could lean on. The names he provided were all kids from his lacrosse team. He was able to shift his mindset to focus on his allies. These teammates showed up for him, in force, with nary a request that they do so. (JN, you’re a very good friend.)
I worked with Max to identify the parts of his school day that were causing the most anxiety. He told me that chorus would be tricky because he no longer had friends to sit with during that time period. I instructed him to stop attending chorus for the remainder of the school year, and head to the guidance office instead.
I scheduled an emergency session with guidance, where Max and I explained his situation. We were told, in no uncertain terms, that Max was being bullied. Rumors are not acceptable, regardless of their truth. Because of the nature of the rumors, Max was being sexually harassed. The guidance counselor asked for a list of names for kids continuing to perpetuate the rumors so she could intervene. She told Max that he has a right to feel safe at school and it is her responsibility to ensure that happens.
I removed Snap Chat from Max’s phone. I hate Snap Chat and never felt good about it, anyway. There is no way for parents to monitor it for safe use. He continues to have access to TikTok and YouTube, which I monitor regularly.
I double-checked the content settings for Max’s phone, to ensure he can only access age-appropriate content. He is not allowed to add or delete apps from his phone without a parental pass code.
I installed a parental monitoring app on Max’s phone. It’s called Bark, and it’s pretty cool. I receive notifications via text and email if inappropriate content is found on Max’s phone. This includes offensive, threatening, and bullying language sent in texts.
Hubs and I shifted screen use rules in our home. Phones are no longer allowed in bedrooms.
Max is taking a break from sleepovers. He will not be allowed to attend group sleepovers going forward. We will ask a lot more questions about supervision when he is allowed to attend small sleepovers again.
Wow, right? Big changes. Necessary changes. We’re keeping our eyes on the prize of summer vacation. The last day of school is June 16.
Now, back to the beginning statement about getting things wrong, or less right. I have been consumed by Max’s struggles. I have always known that I’m a great multi-tasker, but it’s a true accomplishment when both anxiety and depression step into the sunlight at the same time. I have been racking my brain trying to identify where exactly hubs and I went wrong. I have felt somewhat negligent in our parenting approaches.
After consideration, I have realized that our approach is the opposite of negligent. Parenting is about doing what you think is right…until it’s not. Then you shift gears. Negligence lies in not adapting. When hubs and I were faced with Max’s adversity, we implemented a 10-point plan. You know your girl likes a good plan.
Parenting is hard. Like, so hard. For some peculiar reason, I was under the impression that parenting young children was the most challenging part. I’d take poopy diapers and disrupted sleep over the last two weeks any day. And this is just a bump in the road. I know. There are so many more bumps to come. It’s daunting to think about. I have heard it said that a mother is only as happy as her least happy child. I can say from experience, that saying feels completely accurate. Life has been difficult over the past 10 days. 10 days. I cannot imagine how difficult life might be for families of children who are constantly bullied. My heart hurts when I think about it.
This week, Max’s math teacher assigned one week-long assignment. “BE KIND TO EACH OTHER.” Let’s all move forward into the next part of our lives by doing Mrs. Ellsworth’s homework. Maybe just maybe, kindness will win. ♥
