soapboxdiner

Tres funny, fuckers

I'm having a brain aneurysm and I just might die.

Honestly, what does it take to get a 13 year old to do his homework? Does he really need to understand and experience failure in order to make an effort?

After eight years of teachers telling me he's ADHD (he isn't), smart, courteous, rude, inattentive, distracting, helpful, lazy, etc. <-- notice all the mixed messages? After eight years of trying to help him develop critical thinking skills, problem solving skills, and homework skills, organizational skills, only to have him STILL hide from me, or ask me to predigest his assignments for him -- for which the class "hasn't gone over anything yet to do with the assignment," but it's 7:00 p.m. right now and this paper is due at 8:00 in the morning, for which he has brought home no notes, no text book, AND did not take advantage of the after-school Homework Club ...

WHAT MORE CAN I DO FOR YOU? I DON'T HAVE ANY RESOURCES TO HELP YOU IF YOU DON'T PLAN A LITTLE AHEAD AND HELP YOURSELF!

And of course it's all my fault, because I'm his mother and, dang it, Moms are supposed to be omniscient.

And so after running through all the troubleshooting steps I can think of to help in whatever way I can with absolutely no pool of information to draw from, I calmly tell him that I cannot help him, and he immediately jumps to "If you really loved me, you'd help me. Since you aren't helping, you apparently don't love me, and now I'm mad. I'm not going to do my homework either."

Then I get to deal with a pouting child, teachers who assume I don't care (because if I cared, I'd be right on top of everything and making it happen), and a child who just may very well flunk out of 7th grade -- of which he's already taken 1/2 of twice because in the previous school district, he was in AP courses which this school district refused him entrance to, meaning failing here will result in THREE years of the same curriculum, of which he's already bored and disdainful.

So now he's in his room, blissfully just far enough away from me so as to not die from a big ass maternal beat down, and I am here pounding it all out on Diaryland, seriously concerned about the brain aneurysm occurring behind my eyeballs.

Oh, did you happen to read the last entry, by the way? Viva la juxtaposition 12 hours can make, darlings.

7:29 pm - 05.05.09
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