The buses rolled in around 2 pm filled with a bunch of happy campers. YaYa’s group, self-named the SuPurple Novas, seemed to have the biggest smiles. All I heard from his counselors was how awesome my son was — which made me a happy camper too.
Go YaYa!
I have tried to provide YaYa with a more hands-off approach to his homework. This is not to say that I won’t help him with his schooling. I’ve simply been trying to maintain that YaYa’s schooling is HIS responsibility. While this might sound like a good solution, it does have its down falls. It’s been a little too easy to become blind to the homework entirely. I ask him what he has left when I pick him up from daycare, and take him at his word. Sometimes, an item or two has been missed for one reason or another. Most often, this was the direct result of him now writing the assignment down. While I’ve often questioned whether I have backed off too much, YaYa has done a pretty good job of holding his own.
Recently, however, the public schools have let out. Even before this, it was apparent that the teachers were not assigning homework as the neighbors were knocking on our door almost as soon as we arrived home. Homework was completed in a rush and YaYa’s grades were knocked downward.
Stressing responsibility and follow through, I put the onus back on YaYa to “Get. Those. Grades. UP!” That was two weeks ago. Since then, YaYa has given his studies more careful attention. He took extra care in test preparation and asked me to quiz him on the material. He finished his Accelerated Reading book even though he would not get credit for doing so (I made him do this), asked his teachers if there was any available extra credit (which there wasn’t), and followed the progress of his grades by checking the website daily. In 2 weeks time, YaYa has improved his grade in 6 of 9 subjects. And, like a race, he will keep up this final push until he has crossed the finish line.
Please join me in cheering him on.
science and revolutions
On the way to school yesterday, I reiterated that disorganization and complacency do not have a spot in our world. I went on to convey my opinion that a messy and disorganized room or house will only lead to mess and disorganization in the rest of one’s life — OUR life. I thought back to the days of cluttered counters and routine dumping of “stuff” (shoes, books, keys, etc.) where ever and whenever anyone wanted when I said this.
Truly those were the days where I often cringed when I opened our front door. Not exactly the “Welcome Home” I wanted. With my home in disarray, my life felt much the same.
“It Does NOT Work!” I insisted. YaYa just nodded.
Taking the pressure off of YaYa for a moment, I noted that I had also caught a touch of spring fever. Acknowledging my recent pattern of not laying out the clothes, the meds, and the coffee the night before, I pointed out the return of the morning scramble. Once again, I stated, “It doesn’t work!” Only this time, I was speaking more to myself than to him.
That evening, YaYa insisted his homework was complete. In the same breath, he also noted a test in Science the following day. I, having utilized my big-brother tendencies for something other than obsessing over my blog traffic, had an up-to-the-minute beat on his grades. I handed him the post-it noting each one of them. His Science grade was the 2nd lowest and I was not happy.
Then, as soon as we were through the door immediately launched into action:
· I cooked got dinner while he got organized.
· I went for a run while he ate and reviewed his study guide.
· I shot him the questions while he answered them.
· I folded laundry while he tore apart the place looking for his volleyball uniform.
And although we have yet to find the uniform, we did get organized enough to skirt the morning scramble. Better than that, my daily obsessing has revealed that YaYa nailed his Science test.
Next up: Revolutionary War and bills – neither of which I have confidence in.
Don’t think twice, it’s [NOT] alright.
When I look back on my life to date, there are a few moments in particular where my decision was critical. One, in particular, comes to mind today.
It was the summer before entering high school. My best friend all through elementary school talked me into joining her and a few of her new friends on an outing.
We all piled into two cars and drove to an abandoned house down a nearby country road. Once in the house, the alcohol came out. The beers disappeared like the time — all too quickly. Before I knew it, the sky was dark and I was late. I began to panic. Surely I’d be in trouble if I didn’t get home quick.
While I could easily grasp the consequences of being late, I could not grasp the potential consequences of riding in a car with a drunk driver. The guys swore they were fine to drive. Though I’m sure none of us actually believed them, we didn’t think twice about piling back into those cars.
Next thing I knew, the two cars were drag racing down the 2 lane road and, from the rear middle seat (which did not have a seatbelt), I was faced with death. It was sobering for sure.
We were on the wrong side of the road barreling down the road towards another car. All the while the driver was taunting the car beside us as we raced towards our death.
We barely cleared both the oncoming car and the car we were racing. That day, I walked away from both the car and that friendship. Through my high school years, I held tight to this memory and did not ever feel the need to succumb to peer pressure again.
Catch me now; I’m falling
Delicious food, great people, laughter, and chatter filled the room. At this small family gathering, we celebrated my nephew’s 8th birthday. All the makings for a perfect celebration were there. That is unless you count the cake: decorated with a Pokemon theme, the message read, “H. 8th B. Mateo.” Even that, made for a great conversation piece.
For the most part, the adults mingled in the front rooms while the kids took over the back of the house. The kids joined us for dinner and cake, then retreated to their room full of toys once more. The youngest of the kids (26 months old) toddled in and out of the room. His parents and Lil Sis were talking about the sleep deprivation of having a toddler, work, and an upcoming vacation.
Meanwhile, a few glasses of wine into the celebration, my defenses went down like a childproof gate for the stairs and I began to tumble.