Confession THORsday.

According to Wikipedia (the second most important source of all  of Zohrbak’s knowledge, google being the first, of course), THURSDAY was named after the Norse god of Thunder, “Thor” in 1872 by a man named Marten Eskil Winge.  Why do I tell you this?  Because I can’t think of any other “catchy” title for today’s Confession Thursday.  So I cheated. 

Anywho, Thorsday is here, and so it’s time to make a confession. 

Here it goes:

You should all be aware of my self-professed hatred of bullying.  I am highly disturbed when I hear that Little B has been “punching”, “kicking” and even “choking” (GOODNESS!) other kids at school.  I continually pound into my 12 year old daughter (Tween C) about how she has to be nice to all the kids, and not talk about other people, etc. etc. blah blah blah.  That’s really why this is a confession. 

When I was in Elementary School, I was a “Mean Girl.”  I was a part of a very close-knit group of 4 girls.  Nicole.  Gigi.  Brandi. and Me.  We were the shizit. (Or so we thought.)  It’s unfair to include all of these girls in the category of “mean” but as I recall, we all participated in some pretty mean things.   I recall that one day we ambushed a girl that we didn’t like on her way home from school after an Easter party.  I remember because she was carrying an Easter basket full of candy hanging off the handle bar of her bike.  She had just crossed the tracks, and we cornered her just before she headed down the big hill.  She had said something or done something smarty-pants that day at school, and we bullied and pushed down her bike, spilling her candy everywhere.  She was mad, and fought back, scratching me (& Gigi, if I remember correctly) and pulling our hair.  We pulled her hair, too, and she took off on her bike, leaving her basket and candy behind.  When I got home, I was clawed up and had long black hair bits all over me.  But it was no use in trying to hide it from my mom, because our victim’s mother had already called her.  I think she made me call her or go see her and apologize.  I do remember feeling like a dirtbag on that particular occasion.   But there were other such occasions.

All that being said, I most definitely grew out of this phase.  By the time I was in 5th or 6th grade, I was a perfectly normal, acceptably empathetic  human being.  (Well, pretty much.)    



About zohrbak

Zohrbak is an old email username I had a while's a made-up twist on two characters from Spaceghost. Zorak and Brak. I'm a geek. I am a married, working mother of 4 children, ages 4-15. I also have interests outside of my children, but I can never remember what they are.
This entry was posted in bad kids, Confession Thursday, crazy kids, Family, Parenthood, School, work and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Confession THORsday.

  1. Mary says:

    Okay I’ll give it a shot. Here’s my confession. I was one of the girls that the “MEAN GIRLS” picked on in school. I was very very shy and overweight so apparently I was an easy target. I remember being asked in the sixth grade if I was pregnant because of my weight and it really embarassed me and I can remember crying in the bathroom at school. Just like Zorhbak I have taught my daughters H and N not to pick on other children and I remind them of how I was treated in school and ask them if they think it is right. My confession is that I know H is so outgoing and friendly that she becomes friends with the children being picked on and I have been told that N’s friends tend to pick on others and I am afraid that N is doing this and if so Momma will have to bring a beatdown on her.

  2. YaYa says:

    I was a culmination of both, mean girl kicking in win all other defenses failed. I grew up with all boys, brothers, neighbors, etc. & had a severe dislike to all things girlish & I was one hell of a shot with my dad’s .22 rifle. So, I remember once in Jr. High, mom dropped me off at the local skating rink to be with my peers and the hair style was short on top, permed in the back and I had horrible large tortoise shell glasses. I had some mean girls come up to me and aske me if I was a girl or boy b/c they couldn’t tell. I called my mom, tried to hide my sobs and never returned to the skating rink. I did once push a girl down in a ditch full of thick black stinky mud b/c she was being mean to me. I too try to teach Tween A to be mindful of how people act and try to think of their home enviroment that may cause them to be that way. She told some bullies the other day, “My mom says it takes the bigger person to walk away” and she did. I am proud of her!

    • zohrbak says:

      I can picture you with that hairstyle and large tortoise shell glasses! That’s not an insult, I bore that same look for a short time! roflmao!!

      Sorry you had those experiences. I had a few myself after I grew out of the mean girl phase. I always thought of it as “payback”, to be honest. Two mean girls in Junior High told me one day that I had buck teeth. From that point on, I’ve always been self-conscious of my teeth! How dumb. They were just dumb girls.

  3. ZOHRMOM says:

    I was a “mean” girl too. It was a defense mechanism to hide my on insecurities. I know that now and I am sorry for hurting some people’s feelings who would gladly have had my back had I but known better then. Some of the same girls I was mean to grew up to be some of my really good friends. I hope they have all forgiven if not forgotten those times. Thankfully I know better now and try to not do things that deliberately hurt others. You are so right Z-the mean girls DO always get paid back :((((

  4. Aimee says:

    I like to teach my kids to beat all the dumb kids up. I want the bumper sticker that says my kids beat up your honor student.

  5. Aimee says:

    YES! Of course I’m kidding. I’m just being facetious.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s