.. . . is having a bit of a meltdown. He's just gone into fifth class and is not a happy bunny. Apparently it's nothing to do with the big mix up of kids (at the end of 4th class all the classes are rejigged - school does it's best to keep 2-3 pals together but the idea is to mix them all up, help them make new pals and stamp out bullying) or the extra homework but seems to have come from this massive recap of all the maths they did in 4th class. A whole chapter devoted to recapping that apparently has to be finished by Friday. That's a lot of sums.
I spoke to his (lovely) teacher today l#1 spent a lot of yesterday crying. In school and out of it. He's spent a lot of today crying too. Thing is, when I talk to teachers I immediately turn into my 12 year old self and think I'm being given out to. Can't help it, I hate parent teacher meetings too as I'm not sure I'm grown up enough to have kids that go to school, sure aren't I only a kid myself? Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm not. Last year #1's teacher said she thought #1 had dyspraxia as he was very clumsy. I ummed and ahhed and asked if she was sure, she said she was so I said I'd keep an eye on him. I then stood up, turned around and fell over a chair. He doesn't have dyspraxia!! He's his mother's son. A clumsy wretch.
So, I spoke to the teacher and . . . I'm not sure either whether he has to finish the entire chapter by Friday. He was out Monday you see and so was the teacher so the kids were set onto their books (keeps them out of trouble) and he's way behind. Way behind and convinced he has to have it all finished by Friday. Which means he's sitting here panicking and I'm trying to remember if you divide by the top and multiply by the bottom when it comes to fractions (you don't, reverse it) but you do DO that way if you're trying to find the whole number and you only know what, say, 4/6's are worth. Fucking hell.
I'm 38 and doing fractions. Long division and multiplication. Oh, and angles . . . obtuse or acute??
The reason I'm doing them is that Himself and myself are so worried about the chap we've decided to do his homework for him. I've made sure he understands how the sum is done by making him do a few then I rip through the rest of them and scribble the answers in my cake notebook, along with formula.
Is this bad parenting? I do hope not because he's a sweetheart. A clever sweetheart who I think has got the wrong end of the stick and is driving himself to distraction by trying to complete over 200 sums by Friday morning.
Oh, and another thing. My lovely son, he got the worst of both myself and Himself. My 'worrying' nature and Himself's 'inability to talk about stuff that's scaring him'. Poor fecker. Mind you, he also got his father's quick wit, my soft side, my eyes and his father's confidence so he'll do alright. Love the daft bugger which is why this makes my heart ache so much. See?? I'm worrying about nothing too now.
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