This year has been a huge growth year for all of us. The whole family has been changing, exploring new ideas and trying out new talents. With that growth comes the inevitable pain, pull, shift and expansion that feels too big and unruly.
I have this middle schooler this year. I have this child whom is sensitive, artistic, thoughtful, daydreamy and physical who is now in this world of study, learn, achieve, sit still and continuously pay attention. None of those things are his strong points unless he is reading or putting a lego set together.
Teachers up until this time have tried to understand him or have just been frustrated with him. I have never really cared how well he did in school I just didn’t want him to be a disruption so he won’t get yelled at and I wanted him to have fun.
Middle school, especially this special STEM school that is all about math. Like BAM math! I hated math and I can’t help him do his math and he seems fine with not knowing how to do his math and felt like he was doing his math. Math math math.
Trying to talk to him about makes him cry and tear up and makes him stomp upstairs to sit on his bed alone. Yay me!
I knew I would get to this point where I wouldn’t know how to help him and that is scary. I am resigned to trying to understand fractions, again.
I feel like a terrible hideous animal gnashing its teeth, snapping at the tiny little man I grew and made out of thin air making him cry because he doesn’t think he is smart enough.
This clearly is my issue and the transference I am experiencing with him is crushing me. This happily coincides with my husband contracting Lyme Disease and is helplessly sick, weak, in pain and dazed.
It’s just the first 3 weeks of school. He says he gets it now. He isn’t bothered by the low grades (his average is 48% in math!) and this is clearly my issue.
Every parenting situation I encounter seems to be the hardest one and the past, the time before of what I did or didn’t do doesn’t exist in any real way. There is only be here now.
There may not be enough liquor in the world for the next few years let alone the next few months. And I don’t need it to, um, get though it; I need it to forget what a fucking bitch I am for making my kid cry because he isn’t trying hard enough, doing what his teacher wants and making good grades.
That doesn’t seem so helpful. I think I would think who ever did that was a real fucking bitch who needed to shut the fuck up and that kind of pressure and anger would just make me so preoccupied with how shitty I felt that I don’t think I could ever learn anything.
Wow. Does he realize I know I suck way more than he thinks he does.
I take it back that I wish I were a gerbil and could just eat them both and start all over again.