Thursday, April 26

Trying to Plan Out the Day

Sometimes, I just don't understand my kids. In particular, the oldest son, who is turning 14 next month. Yes, I know. The average parent can NEVER understand their teenage offspring, but this is a bit different. Not only have the Wife and I had to nag on him about due dates for certain school projects, but he has over the last year, become a Journeyman Word Manipulator. What's that, you ask? Simple. He uses the English language in the way that suits whatever his current purpose ahead.

This past week, at least twice I have inquired about the 4th quarter book project his English class does. After five minutes of my inquisition (correct word) I finally am able to determine that the current phase is a 'group' portion, and he obviously cannot do alone, and is not needing to be completed until Friday (Friday being the time I am guessing - he had said later this week). I have to play 20 Questions with him, it get any information, and it is especially worse when the end result is he has to do some work.

He has also become quite good at neglecting to give us information on things he is required to need. Last night, after being home for quite some time, and about an hour before bed, he informs me he has to be at the school by 8:30 this morning. This is the time his bus normally picks him up, and it truly is no bother for me to take him earlier. I questioned why. His response? 'I don't know. The band teacher just told us the whole band has to be there by 8:30.' Is there some concert performance during the day? There is nothing on our calendar we are aware of of concerts this week. 'I don't know.' Special event at school you need to perform for? 'I don't know.' The Wife and I think it may have something to do with a 6th grade orientation today, but otherwise have no clue.

This morning, as I did my morning routine of emails, I received one from his English teacher, that she had sent last night - after I had gone to bed. It stated they are working on research papers. This was never mentioned by the son - even when asking about school projects earlier this week. The email mentions that they have outlines due TODAY, and in class today will be working on the thesis statement, and first paragraph. No worries. The last of the email says that students should have a flash drive available to use during the time they are working on the papers, so that students will not have to re-write work between class & home. Did the son bother to tell us? Of course not.

While taking him to school this morning, I inquired, well, more like 'grilled' him about it. Yes, he will need a flash drive. No, he didn't think to let us know. No, his outline is not done as the teacher had him change a portion of it so he is "slightly behind" where he should be. Should he have mentioned this last night, when I asked if he had any homework? I think yes, but he thinks because they will be working on it in class today, he shouldn't be required to say it is homework. I told him due to his inability to manage not only his time (again) and be responsible to let us know when other items are needed for schoolwork (the flash drive) he was going to have to get through today with none of it, and that we would be on his ass about the research paper constantly. I even threw in the possibility of contacting his teacher if his evasiveness in answering out questions was going to be happening. He was not a happy camper when I dropped him off. I am not exactly thrilled myself.

Today I was thinking was going to be a decent day. It is cloudy out, with a bit of wind. High temp is only to be about 81 (down from the 100+ we had last weekend). Now I have to make a special trip out shopping to get him a flash drive, and I really am not in the mood to go to any stores. but now that I have to get out, I probably will head over to get a haircut as well. I know I need one.

I think I am just flustered with dealing with the son.

PeacE

1 comment:

Joe said...

Welcome to my world. My youngest just was voted "biggest procrastinator" in the Senior Class.