Next week was supposed to be huge for him...a short school week with an overnight camping trip with his classmates to cap it all off. All he had to do was behave (check) and pass all his classes (check, again). I'd been praying over this: Please, Lord, help him through his day to pay attention, do the work correctly and, above all, turn it in on time with his name on it.
I should have seen it coming.
This afternoon, I found out he didn't turn in three papers. This is how you go from passing to failing a class in two weeks time. There was talk from the school about extra work to, hopefully, boost the grade and how did I feel about that. I could practically feel the internal struggle: yes/no yes/no yes/no. If I said no, it'd be like ignoring an entire year's worth of hard work which would be grossly unfair. If I said yes, what would that be teaching him? That as long as someone comes along to give you a boost, everything'll be okay...no harm, no foul; that the rules apply to everyone BUT you? I just don't get it. How can you so look forward to something, knowing the requirements ahead of time and be surprised when you personally let it slip through your fingers. He tried to shift the blame (I do so love THAT game they play). He tried to say he'd worked so hard all year, it shouldn't matter now; he deserved to go. I can't even believe the words as I'm typing them. I can't bail you out of this one. I can't shadow you through the day. Yes, you're 11 years old, but you knew the score.
Lucky for me, my dear hubby agrees with me, so while the decision wasn't the desired one, it's the best one. So, here we go with the crying and long, sad face. Hey, let's see if we can get sympathy from dear Grandmother...nope, no dice. Try harder next time, buddy. And forget about telling Grandpa unless you're up for The Lecture...best just to keep your mouth shut with that one. Now, we're on to the silent treatment. It's been five hours of this shit and I'm already tired of it. I'm not budging and neither's Dad. Suck it up, learn your lesson; adapt and overcome. Parenthood sucks.
I should have seen it coming.
This afternoon, I found out he didn't turn in three papers. This is how you go from passing to failing a class in two weeks time. There was talk from the school about extra work to, hopefully, boost the grade and how did I feel about that. I could practically feel the internal struggle: yes/no yes/no yes/no. If I said no, it'd be like ignoring an entire year's worth of hard work which would be grossly unfair. If I said yes, what would that be teaching him? That as long as someone comes along to give you a boost, everything'll be okay...no harm, no foul; that the rules apply to everyone BUT you? I just don't get it. How can you so look forward to something, knowing the requirements ahead of time and be surprised when you personally let it slip through your fingers. He tried to shift the blame (I do so love THAT game they play). He tried to say he'd worked so hard all year, it shouldn't matter now; he deserved to go. I can't even believe the words as I'm typing them. I can't bail you out of this one. I can't shadow you through the day. Yes, you're 11 years old, but you knew the score.
Lucky for me, my dear hubby agrees with me, so while the decision wasn't the desired one, it's the best one. So, here we go with the crying and long, sad face. Hey, let's see if we can get sympathy from dear Grandmother...nope, no dice. Try harder next time, buddy. And forget about telling Grandpa unless you're up for The Lecture...best just to keep your mouth shut with that one. Now, we're on to the silent treatment. It's been five hours of this shit and I'm already tired of it. I'm not budging and neither's Dad. Suck it up, learn your lesson; adapt and overcome. Parenthood sucks.
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