Saturday 25 August 2012

Bye bye Instagram

It's late. I'm tired. But I did something momentous today.
Well, momentous for me.

I deleted my Instagram account.

Here's a tough question: do you spend more time on social networks, than you do with your children?
Eek! Sorry.

But...

It all started with a car service you see. The mechanic unplugged my battery and for some reason, this unplugged my car stereo (??) and to get your car stereo back again a pin number must be entered.

Well of course I forgot my pin number - tried a few, and was then 'locked out' of my car stereo.

That was a long boring story to tell you... I have been enjoying the solitude.

Solitude - what a great word.

Driving with my thoughts and prayers.

Peaceful.
And kind of restful.

And then when the kids are with me, listening to them. Instead of the song. And the complaints on talkback radio.

So in the midst of all this solitude, I noticed that whenever I had to wait for my kids (often) I would check my Facebook, check my Instagram, check my emails.

And at the same time, I noticed that whenever something fabulous happened - like spotting a ladybug, or another of life's simple but beautiful moments, instead of ENJOYING it, I was reaching for my phone to take a photo.

To share with others...
Instead of enjoying it myself!

Now when I am waiting for my kids, I can enjoy the surroundings.
It's not boring!
It's taking a moment.
Taking a breath.
Taking a break.

Simplicity.
Solitude.

All the good stuff.



Wednesday 1 August 2012

On bullying

I met Alex when we were seated next to each other at a lunch.

I was late. And flustered. And stressed - my daughter was (and sadly, still is) being bullied by another girl at school and on that day I could think of little else.

It isn't physical bullying.
It's the more insidious type...





 the sneering, self-confidence-destroying, whispering campaign that some girls are so good at

staring, laughing, looking-up-and-down
the type where the bully gets the weaker kids on side, and makes them promise not to talk to the victim - such fun

 and conversation stops when they walk past

false accusations

harsh words

mocking 

I gave a brief rundown to Alex and she patted my knee and said,
"It's horrible isn't it? I've been there, and you have my absolute and total sympathy."

It was so what I needed to hear.

I knew we'd be friends.

Because she was absolutely right. It IS horrible. It's most horrible for the child, but also horrible for the parent.

When my child is bullied it hurts.
     My heart hurts for her.
          I constantly try to think of solutions.
               And dream of my own vigilante solution.
                    And time goes so agonisingly slow, while the wheels of school justice turn.

And while it is becoming increasingly recognised that counselling in an abusive relationship does more harm than good {link}, many schools still insist on having one-on-one talks between bully and victim.
Together.

I have yet to see this work.
And can't really understand how it can, as the abuser can say all the right words at the time but then use the information divulged in the session against the victim.


I support the anti-bullying campaigns that say there are no innocent bystanders.
I am no expert, but it seems to me the best form of defence against bullying is to raise confident children who will stand against injustice.


And how do we do that?
By being confident adults who take a stand against injustice.

Not being afraid to be unpopular

or say "this is wrong".

Speaking up.

Comforting those who need it.

Being a friend to the underdog.

Not turning away.

Using our voice.

And standing with those who are being bullied.
And their frazzled, desperate parents.

If you are the parent of a child that is being bullied, please know you have my absolute and total sympathy.

Keep going.