What do you do when kids cross the line in the playground?
My son is a sensitive little sausage.
In the lead-up to starting kindy this year, he declared he didn’t want to go to big school, thankyouverymuch. His Christmas holidays were tinged with doubt and dread. My husband and I rallied around, propping him up with positivity.
And lo and behold, when he started school in February, he was actually… happy. Not filled-to-the-brim bursting with happiness, but a sense of quiet contentment. The first few weeks went by without a hitch.
But my bubble burst when he started crying in his sleep some days ago. One morning, I could sense his apprehension growing as the clock tick-tocked towards nine.
“I don’t feel too well. I think I should stay at home,” he pleaded.
“Nerves,” I thought. “It’s finally dawned on him that school’s the real deal and he wants out.”
It was a long walk to school that morning. Each step he took was laborious. He wouldn’t let go of my hand. At morning assembly, his teacher had to peel him off me, his tears as heavy as lead as they fell on my heart.
Next day, same story.
And the next…
And then, a few nights ago, it all came out, faltering at first, but then in a gush, like he needed to get it out. Turns out four boys from Year 1 had been following him around the playground, teasing and taunting him.
"Teeny!" they kept calling him. (Yes, read that first sentence I wrote. The emphasis is on the word 'little'.)
He told them to stop it; that he didn't like it. Several times. But they pursued him every lunch break, day after day. Relentless. In a pack.
