“Scotty beam me up!”

12 March 2013:

When life becomes such a pain that one can’t even sit down and blog about it, what is life coming to then? For days I have felt that I need to get the happenings recorded, documented, to get them off my chest. But it felt like too heavy of a burden. But I must try to express my worries and frustrations, my disappointments and anger. This past week has been nothing but terrible.

Wednesday 6 March 2013: I got home with the boys and it didn’t take many minutes before they informed me that they were off to the playground. After all, it is just across our back garden. Only a bicycle route between and a land hockey enclosure. I do not like them going, since it’s not a playground anymore. Children don’t play on playgrounds at all. They go there to pick a fight. They are so bored and don’t know how to play, but they do go in search of people to fight with because I guess, that to them, IS fun! My boys have had some fun together for weeks now, when outside, so I let them go, with a gnawing feeling inside, that maybe it was not wise. I sat and read my book and lost track of time, and I suddenly realized that it was high time to make dinner, high time to visit the loo, and to put the book down. That is when I hear the front door open and the boys coming inside. But I also hear a grown up man, balling “Boo” out. I just did not feel up to, taking the fight. I know how awful that sounds, but I needed the loo, and I just felt SO TIRED of all the complaints, screaming, hatred… So I headed for the lavatory in order to prepare myself for the battle that I expected that I would have to go in to, after all. Sitting there, I listen to a grown up man having this argument with a 6 year-old boy who has the speech of a 5-year-old and I started wondering if I was really hearing what I was hearing. It is one thing to confront a child, about its misbehaviour. But then only after one has sorted out, what has really happened. But for a parent to just rush out of his house, trusting that his angel son is telling the truth and that everybody else is an ogre, is not right. And to go to attack from the start… Well, I do not approve. Nor do I approve when the parent tells a child, whose language skills is that of a 5-year-old, that he is going to “report”, meaning file a report with the police, because my son has poked his son in the eye. He would not listen when “Boo” told him that the man’s son had bullied “Boo” the day before. Not that it makes things right, but I think there was quite a lot, that the man’s son had not informed him about, and there is a limit to what a grown up should throw in the face of a small child. But the story does not end here, I’m afraid, as it rarely does. “Gestapo”, our neighbours that hates us for being Latter-day Saints and for T. being an American, walked by and heard it ALL. So more water on their mill. They who go out spying in their garden every time my children give out a scream or a peep! We will return to this poking in the eye story though.

Thursday 7 March 2013: T. sprained his ancle yesterday when he took the wrong train home, had to get off and run to another train, going in the opposite direction. Yes, I know, he is not very bright at all since this happens about once a month! The outcome was, that not only did I have Daniel home this day but also T. Daniel having a study day and T. sitting in bed working on his computer. You really have to look for anything more clumpsy. Then the phone call comes! Daniel answers and when he says “I am her son, not her husband”, I just knew it was a formal complaint again. Same German lady as last week, same complaint, that my son is so mean and wild. This day, she had arrived to drop off her precious daughter, only to find chaos in the classroom. All their desks stand together in the classroom and “Boo” was on top, the rest of the class, under the desks. It was a game they said. “Boo” knocking down chairs. No teacher. She was home with her sick child and noone was there to look after the class YET. Like you can let little 6-year-olds sit by themselves waiting for a substitute?! And the substitute that came was the teacher that helps out in “Kitty’s” classroom, so his teacher must have had a bad, bad day! Anyway, all parents just dropped their children and left but not the German mother. She started giving orders that they should pick up the chairs. The children said “No” because it was “Boo” that had knocked them down. This is when she turns to him and he says “I hate Germany” and she, this 40 something adult that ought to know better, says “Well, you know what? I hate the United States!”. Now I got angry in the conversation  and told her that my son is born in Sweden and has never set his foot in the US. “Well, I did not know how often you go over there!”. I informed her, “Never!”. I told her that this is not the behaviour a child expects from a grown up. “But I am a very childish person, I said it like a child or sort of like a clown!”. I informed her that it doesn’t matter how you say it, the child sees that you are a grown up, a parent to a class mate. And I told her that while we were on that topic, that one time when her husband swore at “Boo”,  since we don’t swear in our family and religion, then all “Boo” heard when being balled out by her husband, was the swearword, and nothing else. Him picking up on that “here is a grown up that is doing something really bad, he is using a word that is really bad”. Why would he listen to a grown up that is being unrighteous? What right does such a man have to ball him out at all? The worse part of the conversation with her was, that she then added that she has friends in the US. Like I care! It was not about that at all was it? He was upset with her and wanted her to understand that, so he said that he hates her country. So what? He is 6 years old and doesn’t mean that or that he hates me, when I tell him to do things. HE IS A CHILD for heaven’s sake! For some reason, she has taken it on to herself, to get us to take him out of the school. She hinted that many parents are displeased with him. But since he doesn’t have a diagnosis yet, it is good that he is going to get a resource person to be with him all the time. Where did she get this from? Why should he need a diagnosis of any kind? Noone has talked of this or suggested it. And I have not promised that he will get a resource person all the time. I can’t even promise that the school will apply for one at all, for even something like the school breaks. That is all up to the headmaster. But she has drawn her own conclusions. I am going to have to take this up with the headmaster, but he cancelled the meeting we were supposed to have had the 6th. Fever. He can’t help that he can not stay well long enough for us to have a meeting, but I am getting really irritated with the situation. And I am contemplating getting a protected number. I don’t have the phone numbers to the other students’ parents. Where did they get mine? And, to be honest, what am I supposed to do about things that happen at the school? This day’s events? Only idiots can not figure out that you can’t leave children unsupervised! It’s a classic that students tear the place down when no teacher shows up. Especially if they are only 6 years old!

Friday 8 March 2013: No phone call this day but of course I dreaded walking in to the school and doing my weekly search for all the beanies, mittens and socks, that “Boo” looses during a week. It’s usually everything he brings every day, that get lost! So, today I walked in and headed for the lost and found bins right away, when the after-school-care teacher walked up to me and pointed at a teacher that wanted to talk to me about “Boo’s” misbehaviour today. She was in a conversation with someone else so why would I go and interrupt. I knew that I would have to face it soon enough, but why should I have to stand and be scolded in public, in front of all parents, students, where they hang up their jackets/snowsuits. I am getting fed up with it. I deserve to get privacy when I am going to have to deal with these things! It’s rude to make it all public and for the children to be able to go home and report to their parents about everything said. When I stood digging in the first bin, his teacher came up and I asked her if she knew where his snowsuit was. She then tells me the story, how he had gone outside, stripped it off, with the mittens and beanie, saying he did not need them because it is spring now. He was right there with me and I turned to him in anger telling him, that “you asked me this morning what weather we were going to have and I told you, it would be colder than cold, that winter has come back in full force, and the car door has blown open so that I now can not open it because it has broken somehow. We do not take off our clothes in winter!”. When we were talking, the other teacher came up and told me how “Boo” had thrown sand at a child in her class and how this is not alright. How she had tried to talk to him and he had stormed off, and when she had walked after him, he had jumped over the fence of the school yard which is forbidden. He had jumped over a couple of times today and I got so upset. They all drive fast around the schools, disregarding that the speed limit is “WALKING SPEED”, in other words 7 km/hr instead of 20 km/hour which it used to be. He can get killed. We all three discussed what to do about all this but I am not sure I had any great suggestions and this boy, that keeps telling “Boo” every day, that “Boo” has ADHD, stood listening in with gigantic ears. No doubt to throw it back at “Boo” some other day. This child is a little monster and the sad thing is, that his American mother told us at an information meeting about the pre-school class, last May, that HER son has ADHD. Noone ever mentions this though! It seems that she has neglected telling the school this, and her oversized child is mean and a real bully!

Saturday 9 March 2013: “Sparky” crawled in to bed with me this morning and while he napped or just relaxed, I finished my book. I was taking it easy, trying to decide whether to drive all the way to town just to get a pair of black stockings for church, when the weather was most foul outside, it blowing hurrican like winds. This is when the door bell rang and my heart started to beat faster. “Gestapo”? Police? The father after all threatened “Boo” with the police! But it was children that wanted to play with “Boo”.  I should add at this point that the boys have been bored stiff. I can’t let them go to the playground of course. It will only end in fighting. And my children are not as smart as all the other children. They tell that they are going to go and fetch their parents, so that the mean children are all gone when I arrive. Them having run home while I was being fetched. But my children don’t have the sense to flee the scene. Whether they are at fault or not. So, I have forbidden them to go outside, and T. knew this full well and agreed with my grounding policy. Then these two children show up to play with “Boo” and T. just lets him out the door. That man lacks brain cells entirely. Just like an amoeba! “Kitty” comes in to me and tells me “Those children were in on the poking that child’s eye and now he is playing with them again!”. I jumped out of bed which made poor “Sparky” wake up. And I ran out in the hallway screaming at everyone to get “Boo” back in because I am not going to have a repitition of Wednesday thank you! Enough is enough. And you know what? I am 100% sure that those two did not get a balling out by the furious dad! It was just MY son! Needless to say, I took off with “Dollie” for town. In the storm. Snowflakes kept coming down, so we headed for the mall. I ended up with both stockings and a crocheted top, while we bought red jeans for her, which she has longed for. And for the fighters at home, a book on “Darth Vader” since it was priced at just 29:-. About 3 Euros. A book sale book.

Sunday 10 March 2013: I had to leave “Kitty” home from Church today because I did not want a confrontation with a Hungarian member. An angry woman who doesn’t see how wickedly mean  her son is growing up to be. He puts his head to the side, smiles an angelic smile at her, winks his eyes and she is convinced that he is honest. I know I should not talk ill of people in church. But this child is not nice. He is using the fact that his young parents have got a divorce. He has learned to manipulate it maximum. His grandmother feels so sorry for him, his parents compete in spoiling him and his sister. And he is SO MEAN behind their backs. “Kitty” cried every Sunday when they were in the same class because as soon as the teacher turned around, this boy hit him or pinched him and then “Kitty” got thrown out when screaming. Or the boy started screaming, pointing at “Kitty” and “Kitty” got thrown out for having been mean. This is why I started to take him in to my classroom finally, before he was due in there. I just could not take this unjust behaviour anymore. Fine, if they all want to feel sorry for this boy, want to spoil him and believe that he is innocent.  Go ahead. But don’t make my boy pay for it! I try to check “Kitty’s” bag before we go to church, but sometimes there is no time. Some Sundays he has smuggled little Lego people with him. Everyone that has seen them, know that they should stay home. The problem is that he so much wants to be part of the gang, have friends, so he shows the Lego people to the other boys. One Sunday, this other boy, took a Star Wars droid and just ran out in the forest and dropped it there. We went out searching for it in vain. It was literally like searching in a haystack. I was very upset because it cost me a lot of money to buy that Star Wars box for Johannes many years ago, and he had just let his younger brothers borrow, the Lego. Now a droid is missing and when one looks for Lego figures on ebay, they usually cost between ten to twenty dollars! For one figurine! We are living in a greedy society. This boy’s parents are not rich. I guess he got jealous. But his behaviour was not acceptable! I am not rich either. I do not work! I can’t really afford Lego at all! That time I said nothing. One does not want to pick a fight with this very, very aggressive Hungarian! She can be cruel! Her tongue often gets like a poisoneous snake! A couple of Sundays ago, “Kitty” once again smuggled Ninjago Lego figures to Church. And he took them out right before we were to go home, to show some boys. One little weapon or helmet decoration “flew” away. The entire family were on our fours searching for it, but we were hungry and I told “Kitty”, that I couldn’t stay there all afternoone searching for a toy he should not have brought in the first place. We left for home with “Kitty” crying in the back seat. Last Sunday, was a Sunday when food is served and members are supposed to mingle and have a good time. The “mean” boy’s mum was there which I guess, doesn’t happen too often anymore. And he was there of course. And I sat in the car reading a book since I am not a mingle person. Nor can I eat things that I do not know details about. I do not want to pay for having eaten things that disagree with my no-gall-bladder-body. THEN “Kitty” comes running out screaming. He is absolutely hysterical. He screams while the tears are gushing out of his eyes, that this boy has just found the missing Lego piece and refuses to give it back. He has locked himself in the lavatory and his mother can’t get him to come out. I refuse to go in. She can deal with her son! “Kitty” runs back in. Yes, I should have gone with him. I let him down. I am a bad mother. I have no self confidence any more. I have been told one time too many that I have awful children. I don’t know how to defend them anymore. I just want to die. Or pack my bags and leave. Scotty beam me up please! I don’t want to be part of this anymore. What happened in the chapel? “Cookie” gave me the report on the way home. Why I let them stay and eat is beyond me. I tried to be nice to Daniel that had looked forward to it so long. And I get punished. “Kitty” had stood outside screaming that the boy is a thief and the Hungarian stood and screamed at “Kitty”, that you can’t call someone a thief. That there is no proof that her son took anything. Right! He takes the thing and then locks himself in the lavatory! Right. The act of an innocent person. When he doesn’t unlock the door for his mother even. I am sorry, but I agree with my son. In a Church building, I expect people to be honest. With so many children, it is only natural that toys get forgot or dropped or lost. But they are in the building! And it is not finders keepers. I do not agree with finders keepers anywhere really! But especially not in Church. IF you take something that does not belong to yourself, THEN you are a thief according to the law! That is just how things work. You can’t take an unlocked car and drive it away and claim it as yours, because you found it. The police will never go for it. Nor the judge. It doesn’t matter if you find a Lego weapon or an unlocked car, if it is not yours, you keep your fingers off it! And if you DO take it, well then take the consequences and be called a thief. But, did I want a repetition of last weeks screaming from the Hungarian woman, this time facing me? No! So “Kitty” had to stay home in order to not start anything up. Only, she was not there, only her son. And the little hypocirite sat and said during the general lesson, “we should say sorry when we have done something wrong!”. Very well burped up. How about him never saying sorry to “Kitty”? Driving home, I was shaken by his hypocracy and that I had prevented “Kitty” from learning more about the gospel for nothing.

This is when “Cookie” tells me how her music teacher at school balled her out Thursday. “Dollie” and “Cookie” had been sitting talking about the English school. I put “Cookie” up in queue for it and then a week ago, the new headmaster sent out an e-mail, telling all parents that the school can’t start this autumn. The building they were going to redesign, didn’t work out for a school. Now they will just rent some building while they are buying another property and re-model that. Which means, they will only start grades 3 and 4. I had not decided whether to put “Cookie” there for sure, since they only guarantee French, not German and I am not going to have her switch over to French after two years of German! But the girls had sat discussing things, and “Dollie’s” teacher, that she thought she could trust, had come up and asked them what they were talking about. So “Dollie” told her and what our thoughts have been about perhaps moving more of our children this autumn. Guess what? She went off to the teacher’s common room, spoke to someone and it spread around and Thurrsday the music teacher went and verbally attacked “Cookie”, saying “This is a good school! Your parents will not get more help at another school!”. This Bulgarian teacher plays favourites, has nervous breakdowns, get hysterical and balls people out… I guess “Cookie” who is the best singer at the school, and I don’t say this as her mother, she honestly is, lots of people in music say so, can look in the moon for solo parts from now on. She will be treated badly. She will not get any leads in the musicals anymore. This was all that held her fragile self-confidence up. Now, the only thing she could be proud of, will be taken away from her. Just because her older sister couldn’t keep her mouth shut. I told the children they were not allowed to discuss it outside our house till anything is final. I don’t have an option for “Cookie” now! There is not other school, apart from the hooligan school in the village that has the worse reputation! She’ll be bullied there! You can’t be religious in this narrowminded homogenous village. “Dollie”, who had stayed home with “Kitty”, cried when she heard what had happened. She trusted her teacher, that her teacher would not tell anyone. I told her, you can’t trust ANYONE ever!

Monday 11 March 2013: No phoned call today but on the other hand, I unplugged the telephone! In the evening, class 5 and 6, were having their presentation evening. Daniel babysat his three younger brothers. “Dollie” was supposed to have had a presentation night as well, but her teacher was sick. So now we know what we will do again, next Monday, BUT having to have all the boys with us, that time. “Dollie” came along to see her sister play “King Arthur” in the play “The Sword in the Stone”. I could see the German telephone terrorist, some seats in front of me, and hoped she would not see me. But oh no, that I should be that lucky! After the play, we were supposed to go to the dining hall to see their work on the Middle Ages and their displays on different events. “Cookie” had made a model of “the Stockholm Blood Bath in 1520”. I was coming down with a cold, had a splitting headache and the German woman runs up to me and happily coos “Hello! I am the woman that has been calling you”. I just stared at her in disbelief and said in a grave voice “I know”. I guess she wanted to strike up a conversation but I didn’t say a single word to her, so she walked off. Sorry, I can’t suddenly become her best friend after what she has thrown in my face, and I am sure she has more up her sleeve for me. More is to come!

Tuesday 12 March 2013: I was tired when I woke up this morning and it was not funny when “Boo” emtied a whole sand box over the floor, when getting dressed in his snowsuit, to go off to the bus. I started pulling out the cord to the vacuum cleaner, to vacuum up all the sand, wondering why it was all wet. I start the machine and water is sprinkling all over, like the vacuum cleaner had suddenly transformed in to a water sprinkler. I screamed, lift the vacuume cleaner up in the air and water was pouring out of it, all over. Daniel shows up and says “oh yes, “Kitty” and “Boo” took it in to the shower last night to fill it with water, but I did not think one could so I thought it was fine”. So much for him babysitting in the future. I was so angry with the boys that I just did not know what to do except cry. “Boo” informed me that “Kitty” had told him to go and fetch the machine. He always sends his brother to do things now, so his little brother will be balled out if things are discovered. And they always are. But I have discovered what is going on, thank heavens, so that “Boo” will not get the blame for his older brother’s “ideas”. Why did “Kitty” want to fill the vacuum cleaner with water? To make it explode! It’s days like this when I would just like to drive him to the child psychiatric unit and just leave him there, telling them that I no longer can handle the situation. The special ed teacher at “Sparky’s” pre-school says that I am a very strong woman. After this week, I am the last person to agree with her. I feel like a ship wreck and not strong at all.

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