11 September 2008

Painful Moments

One of life's most painful moments comes when we must admit that we didn't do our homework, that we are not prepared.
~ Merlin Olsen

This is something that Mr. A learned painfully last night. Not at school, but at home.

Mr. A's school lets parents sign on to a secured site and check out their student's grades. As I mentioned yesterday, I'm a slight bit anal, and I check it daily. Well, yesterday afternoon, I was doing my daily check, and what to my disbelieving eyes should appear? A "D". Yes, a "D". Now, Mr. A is one of those kids who has things come easily to him. He reminds me of both me and his father in that regard. Neither X nor I had to learn to study until college, and by then it was almost too late.

I vowed that my boys would learn to study and to WORK for their grades. It's a constant battle.

Now Mr. A's "D" is in a class that he has a desperate hatred for. A class that I can't relate to his hatred for. It's Literature...otherwise known as Reading.

I read constantly. Always have. I read nightly to the boys until they told me they were too old, and they wanted to read on their own. Bugaboo did, but Mr. A decided it was too "hard". He's always been the one who wants to be entertained, rather than entertain himself.

Now, part of his grade maybe my fault. Last Thursday night both of the boys had practice and we did homework from 3:45 to 4:45, ate a quick dinner and went to practice. I knew that Mr. A still had to complete his homework for Literature, but he promised that he could get it done in Study Hall the next morning. I let it slide.

He did do it in Study Hall, but without Nonnie there to double check and see how much effort was put into it, he did the bare minimum to turn it in, and his grade reflects that.

I got home yesterday after picking Bugaboo up at school, and removed all electronic privleges from Mr. A. He was sent to his room with the instructions to do his homework, practice his trombone and to stay there, only to be allowed out for dinner and the bathroom.

He wasn't happy. Not that I cared. He tried bargining with me. He said it was only the first grade and he had all quarter to improve, so I should give him a break this once. He said that it was too much of a punishment, and that I should let him have one of his electronic devices. You name it, he used it for a bargin.

I didn't budge. Oh, I wanted too, because I was tired and crabby and the effort was just more than I wanted to give. But I'm his Nonnie, so I knew I couldn't.

During dinner, he kept trying to bargin. I told him that if he really thought my decision was too harsh, we could call his dad and find out what he thought. LOL! I knew that would stop him, because while I might discuss things and explain my position, X yells and yells. Mr. A didn't want to deal with that, so he finished eating and went back down to his room.

Then his dad called. I spoke with him and rather than agreeing with me, he took Mr. A's side. I was full of WTFery. Apparently, something sucked X's brain out over the summer, and he decided that a "D" was an okay grade. Okay then.

So Mr. A and I talked after his dad hung up. I asked him if he wanted me to back off and leave him alone, wait until report cards came out and then bring the hammer down (if necessary) or if he wanted me to pay attention and knock sense into him as I noticed him needing it. He picked me paying attention.

Somewhere there is a quote about pain and growth. I'm too lazy to look for it now, but it's also true. Mr. A and I both grew yesterday. And we're better for it.

Until later...