If you can't say anything nice.....

File this one under the drama-that-I'm-sure-I'll-think-is-hilarious-in-a-few-years-but-right-now-not-so-much category.

Morgan is a drama queen.  End of story.  During the course of her 7 short years on earth, she has been known to be inexplicably terrified of fireworks, dogs, cats, ducks (no, I am not kidding), automatic flushing toilets, buzzers at basketball games, bicycles, waterslides, water, and ice.  It is the ice that is now presenting the problem.

Last year, she fell down on the ice and hurt her leg.  She also ripped a big hole in the knee of the new pants she was wearing and was almost more upset about that than her leg.  Ever since then, she is very timid on ice, snow, wet surfaces, or anything that looks like it could be, or has at one time been, slippery.   She freaks out and demands to hold someone's hand and then still walks like my 85 year old Grandma did after she broke her hip, while holding on to my arm like it is a life vest and she's being pulled under the water.  This presents quite the problem when she has to walk down our driveway to catch the bus.  We've tried to make concessions to help her.  First, she would wear her boots because I convinced her they'd give her the perfect traction that she needed to not slip on the ice.  She still fell.  Then, I had her walk in grass or snow to get down to the bus which worked until we got 3 feet of snow that she couldn't walk in without taking her big Eskimo snow shoe things that look like tennis rackets.

Last week apparently was the final straw for the bus driver.  She apparently had kept her comments to herself long enough and the bitterness inside of her was just growing too strongly to have any empathy for a 7 year old who is scared of life.  It has either been too long since she was a kid or since she had kids or since she read "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People" but for whatever reason, she just couldn't take it anymore.  The first day, Morgan came home and said that Nancy had told her that it was just ice, it wasn't going to bite her.  Ok, fine.  Thanks for those words of wisdom and sympathy.  The next day, Morgan said that Nancy asked her what she was afraid of to which Morgan replied "um...falling?"

Point:  Morgan.  Thanks for playing, Nancy.

On Wednesday of last week, Morgan got off the bus and just stood there with tears streaming down her face.  I knew it was especially slick that day, so I went down to the road to help her walk up to the house and she thanked me and then went on with her day.  Nothing else was said.  On Thursday, she came into the house nearly in tears telling me she'd had a "rough day."  I asked her why and she said that the older kids on the bus were calling her "baby" and "scaredy-cat."  I dreamed of instructing her to come back at them with such gems as "I know you are, but what am I?" or "Poopyfacesayswhat?" but decided against the 4th grade comebacks.  (She is only in the 2nd grade, after all)  I comforted her and listened to her tell me how sad it made her but didn't really offer her any real pearls of wisdom because I really thought it would just blow over and the roads wouldn't be icy anymore and that would be that.

Wrong-O.

On Friday, knowing it was, again, very slick, I met her at the end of the driveway when the bus pulled up so I could escort her over the icy portion of the driveway.  When she got off of the bus, with the door still open and speaking loudly enough for me to hear 5 feet outside of the bus (which, by the way, would also be just loud enough for all of the meanines on the bus who were calling my baby names to hear), Nancy says to me "I told Morgan she should take ice skating lessons or something so she could learn not to be so afraid of the ice!" to which I politely laughed a knowing little laugh.  At that, she added "I mean seriously, this is RIDICULOUS!"

*sound of needle scratching off of record*

I always think of the perfect thing to say about 2 minutes after someone says something to me that requires a good comeback.  Instead I mumbled something about how it was really slippery and  that we'd take care of it.  I must say I was upset and thought it was very tasteless of her to say something like that loud enough for all of the kids on the bus to hear.  Kids who were already making fun of Morgan.  Hearing an adult say things like that is like gasoline on the fire to the older bullying kids' ears.

Anyway, I asked Morgan then if Nancy had ever said any other things to her and she said yes.  I asked if she said mean things or nice things and her answer was "some of both."  I decided not to get my haunches all up just yet, because I often go all Mama Tiger on things like that when there really isn't any need to.  So, I consulted with Chris and with my Mom.  We all decided we'd just continue to let it blow over and that unless it got worse, we really didn't need to intervene.  It was important that Morgan learned to deal with her fears and, more importantly, not have her Mama Tiger crouching in the bushes and pouncing on all of those who dared look at her wrong (or called her a scaredy-cat, as it were.)

Well, it got worse.

Last night, Morgan came home and said that as she was getting on the bus yesterday, Nancy said to her (and I quote...see the quotes?) "Morgan, stop being such a baby!"

Oh, hell to the no!

I quickly researched the recesses of my brain for any and all parenting advice, skills, books, articles, or anything that would help me help my child best deal with this obvious monster who was preying on her. (where does she get her drama queen tendencies? I have no idea)  I told her that it was OK to be sad because it was not OK that her bus driver was calling her a baby.  I told her that I would call her and speak with her to get it straightened out (knowing that if, by some chance, Morgan had actually made it up, that she would say "oh no, Mommy, nevermind, you know, it's not that big of a deal and you don't need to call her.") She did not say that, instead she said "Ok, will you call her tonight or tomorrow?"  I could tell she was really bothered by it.  The angel on my shoulder talked me into deciding I might just send a note and say something along the lines of "Morgan is being made fun of by some older kids on the bus who are calling her "scaredy cat" and "big baby" because of her fear of the ice and is there anything that she could do to sit somewhere else where they might not bother her?" hoping that, in a moment of introspection, she might think to herself "hey, maybe by me, the adult authority figure saying such things, I am contributing to the problem at hand"  However, then Morgan burst into tears this morning begging Chris to take her to school so she didn't have to ride the bus and "talk to Nancy."  That made the Mama Tiger on my shoulder devour the Angel who kept saying to let it blow over. 

So, I made a call to the Transportation Director instead.

As a former teacher, I have had more than my fair share of parents who knew nothing about a situation other than what their child was telling them, call me and yell at me and tell me how to do my job or how not to do my job when they had absolutely no idea what they were talking about and then not be interested in hearing my side of the story in the slightest.  So, I have a sensitive spot for this.  As such, I was very careful not to sound mad or hurt or like I was out to get the bus driver.  I only said I had a concern for my daughter who was crying and didn't want to get on the bus because of something that she says the bus driver said to her.  Perhaps it was a misunderstanding? Could I please speak with the bus driver so that, together, the two of us could work it out, hold hands and sing Kum-By-Yah?  Mr. Transportation Director did agree with me, however, that perhaps telling a 7 year old to stop acting like a baby was probably not the most diplomatic way to handle such a situation.

Either way, I am anxiously awaiting my call from the bus driver.  I will share our conversation after it occurs.