One of my favorite things about this school year is that my son and I are at the same school. Not only do I get to see him during the day, but I also get to see his teachers.
So far, he has received nothing but rave reviews and has maintained an A average for his first two terms of middle school. I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am of him.
On our way out Friday, we ran into his Language Arts teacher. “How’s he doing?” I asked.
“Well, I’m glad you asked. We worked on a writing assignment on the days he was absent before Christmas. He was supposed to have the rough draft written for me today, but he didn't,” she explained.
I’m fairly sure that my head spun around five times and my eyes bulged as I turned toward my son and exclaimed, “What! Why didn't I know about this?”
Daily I question what his homework assignments are, and if he has completed them. Had I heard anything about the folktale? Umm, no. I feel sure that he thought he could just not say anything, and it would magically disappear. He was absent, so the assignment never really existed for him.
I made it home without causing him any bodily harm, and yes, I even fed him. Knowing that he would rather eat dirt than write anything of length, I sat down with him to discuss his game plan. He spouted off the components of the folktales he had already read, and he selected his topic: the chameleon. Sounding like he had things under control, I shuffled him off to the computer.
After 50 minutes of, “Mom, can you come here?” and, “Mom, I need help,” and, “Mom, I don’t know what to write,” my head began to spin again. By golly, he was going to do this writing assignment on his own. I wasn't going to write it for him.
Eyes bulging, I laid down the law, “If you don’t get anything written in the next 10 minutes, you’re going to bed.” Exactly 10 minutes later he walked towards his room, head hung and defeated.
“Night, Mom.”
“You didn’t get anything written?”
“Just four words.”
After giving him the ask-God-for-help/get-a-good-night’s-sleep/pep talk, I checked the computer. Bless his heart. “Once upon a time” was all he had written.
With a fresh mind he tried again yesterday, and by the grace of God he eventually cranked out a clever tale. More importantly, he knows God helped him.
I asked for and received permission to post HIS WRITING. Enjoy!
“The Lord is wonderfully good to those who wait for him, to those who seek him.” Lamentations 3:25
So far, he has received nothing but rave reviews and has maintained an A average for his first two terms of middle school. I can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am of him.
On our way out Friday, we ran into his Language Arts teacher. “How’s he doing?” I asked.
“Well, I’m glad you asked. We worked on a writing assignment on the days he was absent before Christmas. He was supposed to have the rough draft written for me today, but he didn't,” she explained.
I’m fairly sure that my head spun around five times and my eyes bulged as I turned toward my son and exclaimed, “What! Why didn't I know about this?”
Daily I question what his homework assignments are, and if he has completed them. Had I heard anything about the folktale? Umm, no. I feel sure that he thought he could just not say anything, and it would magically disappear. He was absent, so the assignment never really existed for him.
I made it home without causing him any bodily harm, and yes, I even fed him. Knowing that he would rather eat dirt than write anything of length, I sat down with him to discuss his game plan. He spouted off the components of the folktales he had already read, and he selected his topic: the chameleon. Sounding like he had things under control, I shuffled him off to the computer.
After 50 minutes of, “Mom, can you come here?” and, “Mom, I need help,” and, “Mom, I don’t know what to write,” my head began to spin again. By golly, he was going to do this writing assignment on his own. I wasn't going to write it for him.
Eyes bulging, I laid down the law, “If you don’t get anything written in the next 10 minutes, you’re going to bed.” Exactly 10 minutes later he walked towards his room, head hung and defeated.
“Night, Mom.”
“You didn’t get anything written?”
“Just four words.”
After giving him the ask-God-for-help/get-a-good-night’s-sleep/pep talk, I checked the computer. Bless his heart. “Once upon a time” was all he had written.
With a fresh mind he tried again yesterday, and by the grace of God he eventually cranked out a clever tale. More importantly, he knows God helped him.
I asked for and received permission to post HIS WRITING. Enjoy!
“The Lord is wonderfully good to those who wait for him, to those who seek him.” Lamentations 3:25
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