Last night, I received the worst phone call I’ve had, thus far, in my life.
The call telling me about the deaths of my grandparents and my friend were devastating, but expected. Those calls upended me in ways that haven’t righted.
But last night’s call has to be remedied. Fixed.
I was blindsided and sickened tonight by a call that detailed how my son hurt another child. On purpose. While they were playing.
Not out of anger. Not in retaliation. I’m not yet sure why… he was already sleeping when I heard the awful story. So now I get to hear why he did what he did.
And I have rather low expectations, because what I’ve heard so far is deeply upsetting. From sources I trust. With proof.
There aren’t many posts online when you search “what do I do if my child is a bully?” People are, it seems, terrified to talk about what it means to be the one who harbors the maladjustment that leads to aggressive behavior in children.
Yes, I tend to make mountains out of molehills. But I have several friends whom I call and ask for sanity checks. My parenting sanity check was not willing to place this on the innocent to sociopath scale. But we both understood it’s much closer to the latter.
My preliminary searches suggest low self esteem. I knew that part. Lack of conflict resolution skills. I don’t think so, from what I’ve seen. Role models who coerce or shame or intimidate?
I don’t want to write this post. I don’t want anyone to read this post. I sure as hell don’t want anyone to talk to me about this post.
I barely slept last night, my churning stomach nauseating me awake every time I managed to relax and forget.
I have to go have the talk soon. His dad is coming over so we can present a united front.
I might throw up.