Not exactly the greeting or goodbye I usually send my daughter off to school with, as she hops out of the car, checks her makeup one last time and makes sure she has her cell phone on her.
This odd farewell for the day came after she got into yet another "she texted, and she texted" fight with another girl. And then a third girl jumped in (who was not close friends with either my daughter or my daughter's friend) to add her two cents. Don't ask me to explain the entire story, because frankly, I lose the thread (texted or otherwise) every time she tells it to me.
Long text short, this girl ended up texting Jennifer that the world would be a better place w/o her and encouraged some of her friends to stalk Jennifer. OK, all of my hubby's (and mine) protective juices just went into overdrive. So on her own, Jennifer when with her boyfriend to the vp of the school, who looked at the texts, which Jennifer saved and promptly suspended the girl for four days. Her parents also were upset and took away her texting plan.
Fine, but when she gets back in school later this week, I've told her b-friend, Adam, to have my daughter's back. He's a wrestler, and while I don't expect him to slap the girl down to the pavement, I consider him deterrent to any ideas this girl may have for revenge.
My hubby also called the vp today, and the vp doesn't think there will be any retaliation. I'm not sure I agree with him
Showing posts with label mean girls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mean girls. Show all posts
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Monday, September 21, 2009
Mean people II
Wondering what i'll find in my yard tonight, since I flung the ripped out honeysuckle vine in her yard (yes, I know childish).
"You know mom, I just could have tp'd or egged her house for you. It would have been more effective," J. said.
yes, I know, but not the point I want to make.
"You know mom, I just could have tp'd or egged her house for you. It would have been more effective," J. said.
yes, I know, but not the point I want to make.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Dealing with mean people
I'm probably not the best example of this right now.
Went out to the garden today to find that the neighbor, who had been working out there when I got up this am, had pulled out a honeysuckle shoot that I had laced our side of the fence. She didn't just clip off the offending part, she ripped it out of the ground, broke it in half and threw it on the other side of the fence.
Backstory: She moved in about a year ago to the guy's house next door. She had walked out on him earlier for another man, 20 years ago and apparently that didn't work, so she went back to her first sot of a hubby, C. Who took her back. Since then she's been very martha stewartish in fixing up the yard, the house and cliff, who now seems to disappear with his golf buddies when he can.
When she built a fence down our yard, without telling us and the crew let our dog out in the process, I confronted them both. Last year. We haven't exchanged words since. Or really interacted until now.
So I come fuming back into the house, ripped out plant in hand and said a few choice words to my daughter. I'm really trying to set a good example here. But it's hard.
"Mom, I'm in high school. There are cheerleaders and bitches everywhere. So you don't have to tell me there are mean people in this world."
OK, but how does one deal with them? How does one set an example? You can't exactly slam them on MySpace.
Went out to the garden today to find that the neighbor, who had been working out there when I got up this am, had pulled out a honeysuckle shoot that I had laced our side of the fence. She didn't just clip off the offending part, she ripped it out of the ground, broke it in half and threw it on the other side of the fence.
Backstory: She moved in about a year ago to the guy's house next door. She had walked out on him earlier for another man, 20 years ago and apparently that didn't work, so she went back to her first sot of a hubby, C. Who took her back. Since then she's been very martha stewartish in fixing up the yard, the house and cliff, who now seems to disappear with his golf buddies when he can.
When she built a fence down our yard, without telling us and the crew let our dog out in the process, I confronted them both. Last year. We haven't exchanged words since. Or really interacted until now.
So I come fuming back into the house, ripped out plant in hand and said a few choice words to my daughter. I'm really trying to set a good example here. But it's hard.
"Mom, I'm in high school. There are cheerleaders and bitches everywhere. So you don't have to tell me there are mean people in this world."
OK, but how does one deal with them? How does one set an example? You can't exactly slam them on MySpace.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Should we raise ass holes?
For their own good of course.
I was discussing this situation with a friend today, as she was bemoaning the fact that her husband was now looking for another job, since he just got a new boss that wants him to work a gazillion hours a week, and is generally one of those office predators you'd like to avoid.
In journalism, these types are common, and often climb to the top of the food chain to become executive editors and the like, while the common worker bees drudge away in the trenches until they are found slumped over their computers, or ,if they are lucky, get a buyout.
My friend was particularly annoyed because her husband (if you look in Websters, his name is probably mentioned by "nice guy.") always seems to have this happen to him. He'll hire someone, and then before he knows it, they've smarmed their way to the top over him - if not in title then in the office food chain - while he's just doing his job. He usually only find this out when he notices the slime trail up his back.
""I just have to be asking myself," she said. "Am I raising my kids to be doormats? (be nice, play fair, don't stab people in the back, put family first) Maybe I should raise them to be ass holes."
I feel her pain. And I've asked that questions myself. Now fortunately, I doubt J. would let anyone walk over her. If they tried, I'm pretty sure they'd find out my 100-lb daughter with golden locks has sharps claws and teeth. Believe me, I've seen her in the snarling mess mode. It's not pretty. But effective.
"When you get to be my age, you just get tired of putting up with all the bull shit," she commented recently. "I'm going to call people out when I don't agree with them or what they are doing."
I almost missed this last part, because I was laughing at the first.
But still. I do try to teach her to be fair, to consider all sides, the Golden Rule, say please, work hard, to not get a laugh at someone else's expense, to listen. But I wonder, truly, if I should also say, always carry an emotional shank in that Abercrombie purse of yours. Don't be afraid to use it.
I was discussing this situation with a friend today, as she was bemoaning the fact that her husband was now looking for another job, since he just got a new boss that wants him to work a gazillion hours a week, and is generally one of those office predators you'd like to avoid.
In journalism, these types are common, and often climb to the top of the food chain to become executive editors and the like, while the common worker bees drudge away in the trenches until they are found slumped over their computers, or ,if they are lucky, get a buyout.
My friend was particularly annoyed because her husband (if you look in Websters, his name is probably mentioned by "nice guy.") always seems to have this happen to him. He'll hire someone, and then before he knows it, they've smarmed their way to the top over him - if not in title then in the office food chain - while he's just doing his job. He usually only find this out when he notices the slime trail up his back.
""I just have to be asking myself," she said. "Am I raising my kids to be doormats? (be nice, play fair, don't stab people in the back, put family first) Maybe I should raise them to be ass holes."
I feel her pain. And I've asked that questions myself. Now fortunately, I doubt J. would let anyone walk over her. If they tried, I'm pretty sure they'd find out my 100-lb daughter with golden locks has sharps claws and teeth. Believe me, I've seen her in the snarling mess mode. It's not pretty. But effective.
"When you get to be my age, you just get tired of putting up with all the bull shit," she commented recently. "I'm going to call people out when I don't agree with them or what they are doing."
I almost missed this last part, because I was laughing at the first.
But still. I do try to teach her to be fair, to consider all sides, the Golden Rule, say please, work hard, to not get a laugh at someone else's expense, to listen. But I wonder, truly, if I should also say, always carry an emotional shank in that Abercrombie purse of yours. Don't be afraid to use it.
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