This is what we woke up to this morning.
Lovely, except when you have to go out in it. Not surprisingly, the local school board didn't close the school or ground the buses, even though our neighbours just across the river in Ottawa made sure no big yellows graced the snowy streets (but their schools remained open, too). We don't get snow days over here. Our board directors must be tough as nails and moonlight as plough drivers.
After much deliberation, a team of scientists, psychologists and I have concluded that the board will only consider school closures in one scenario:
Yep. I'm pretty certain that if a tsunami were to hit the city, bringing with it a swarm of ravenous giant squid, there is at least a 50% chance of bus cancelation.
Since I transport Sir Spawnling to preschool by way of a two-wheel-drive minivan, I decided we should stay put. I did, however, manage to get Gutsy the four blocks to his school before the roads got nasty. The bus takes him home, and I'm fairly sure it can make it through the snow (and it's too cold for tsunamis). Intrepid, of course, bounded off to junior high to see his friends, snow be damned. I did hit the Tim Hortons after drop-off and downed most of an extra large coffee before there was a knock at my door. A very snowy coffee fairy handed me a second one. Then another coffee-gifting friend arrived with a cup at my door, and now I am positively high on caffeine - shockingly high, even. This means that I can type twice as fast as I usually do, thus guaranteeing a blog post in half the time - despite the twitching. I'm feeling intensely motivated!
Yesterday afternoon I did a lot of crying. I got a call from Gutsy's teacher, telling me that he's simply not motivated at school and is falling way behind. Unless someone is sitting there looking over his shoulder, very little work is being done. There are big chunks of his report card that are not yet marked because he's missed too much school and won't catch up. She thinks that maybe he's not quite as advanced as we think he is, although I respectfully disagree (with a great deal of bias, I admit). He just doesn't show her what he's capable of, so I can definitely see where she would be getting that idea. He has a hard time doing a page of basic addition and subtraction for her, but he'll easily do simple multiplication and even algebra with me. This is the kid who teaches himself programming languages, makes movies with elaborate editing using a variety of tools, reads and writes just about anything, and is always coming up with new inventions.
But, for whatever reason, he's not bringing that love of learning into the classroom. He fights tooth and nail about going, comes home exhausted, and isn't trying in between. It's both heartbreaking and frustrating. I guess this fits well with his recent declaration that he hates school, hates learning there, finds it really hard, and that he only goes to see his friends.
Why this news always has to come when I have my period and am an emotional basket case, I have no idea.
So he cried, I cried, we hugged, we talked, and we came up with some ideas.
First of all, I think he should be screened for learning disabilities. Let's find out if he's actually struggling with any subjects, or if he's just unmotivated - or overwhelmed - with the amount of work. Second, Geekster and I went out last night and purchased some curriculum books on subjects he says he finds difficult: math, french and cursive writing. Gutsy has committed to working 30 minutes each day on a subject until he feels more confident. He's been so tired at the end of the school day that we haven't even been pushing homework on him most nights, so this is going to require a little extra effort on his part and a little extra on mine.
But that's okay. It's not like I do anything, anyway. I'm just a stay-at-home-mom. The life of leisure and all that. It might be good for me to be productive sometimes.
There's a real sense of hopelessness when you get a phone call like that from a teacher. I remember feeling this way about Intrepid before we found his hearing loss; a powerlessness, like I was losing the grip on my child and he was about to fall through a crack in the system. We're missing something that could make all the difference for Gutsy, and I'm not sure what it is just yet. But we need to figure it out soon and find a solution.
I will homeschool him if we feel there's no other way to rekindle that love of learning, but I'm kind of hoping it won't come to that. Sure, it's mostly selfish on my part: I'm finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel after being home for fourteen years. In 18 months, all three of the gremlins will be in school, and I will be able to - gasp! - do something with my days besides parenting. I can, like, be a full-time writer and grow my business. I'm so ready for it that I can taste it. I feel really bad for saying this, but if there's any way we can make Gutsy a happy camper at school again, I'll take door #1 rather than the home learning option. Can I buy a vowel, Alex?
But I'll also do anything for my little horned wonders, including stepping out of my educational comfort zone. It would be a big adjustment for me, though. And put a kink in my dreams of being a world-famous writer and supermodel.
See? Me, me, me. Selfish, selfish, selfish. So sue me. The Maven is about as close as you can get, but no one is perfect, okay?
Anyway, that's a long way off. There are many things we can try before getting to that point. Things are improving with our gentler approach to discipline. Gutsy seems to be feeling safer, because he's opening up to me a lot more about what's troubling him. That's how we're going to get to the bottom of things around here: communication. So, even if this turns out to be a shitty year, we'll have accomplished something big.
Because, more important than a lack of motivation, school woes, or tantrums, is the relationship with a wonderful, beautiful, smart, funny, creative, original little boy in my life named Gutsy. We'll get through this together.
As long as we don't get eaten by giant squids.
 |
| Brrr. |
 |
| (FYI, the big numbers are celsius. This is Canada, eh?) |
Lovely, except when you have to go out in it. Not surprisingly, the local school board didn't close the school or ground the buses, even though our neighbours just across the river in Ottawa made sure no big yellows graced the snowy streets (but their schools remained open, too). We don't get snow days over here. Our board directors must be tough as nails and moonlight as plough drivers.
After much deliberation, a team of scientists, psychologists and I have concluded that the board will only consider school closures in one scenario:
 |
| I wasted my morning making this. You're welcome. |
Yep. I'm pretty certain that if a tsunami were to hit the city, bringing with it a swarm of ravenous giant squid, there is at least a 50% chance of bus cancelation.
Since I transport Sir Spawnling to preschool by way of a two-wheel-drive minivan, I decided we should stay put. I did, however, manage to get Gutsy the four blocks to his school before the roads got nasty. The bus takes him home, and I'm fairly sure it can make it through the snow (and it's too cold for tsunamis). Intrepid, of course, bounded off to junior high to see his friends, snow be damned. I did hit the Tim Hortons after drop-off and downed most of an extra large coffee before there was a knock at my door. A very snowy coffee fairy handed me a second one. Then another coffee-gifting friend arrived with a cup at my door, and now I am positively high on caffeine - shockingly high, even. This means that I can type twice as fast as I usually do, thus guaranteeing a blog post in half the time - despite the twitching. I'm feeling intensely motivated!
Yesterday afternoon I did a lot of crying. I got a call from Gutsy's teacher, telling me that he's simply not motivated at school and is falling way behind. Unless someone is sitting there looking over his shoulder, very little work is being done. There are big chunks of his report card that are not yet marked because he's missed too much school and won't catch up. She thinks that maybe he's not quite as advanced as we think he is, although I respectfully disagree (with a great deal of bias, I admit). He just doesn't show her what he's capable of, so I can definitely see where she would be getting that idea. He has a hard time doing a page of basic addition and subtraction for her, but he'll easily do simple multiplication and even algebra with me. This is the kid who teaches himself programming languages, makes movies with elaborate editing using a variety of tools, reads and writes just about anything, and is always coming up with new inventions.
But, for whatever reason, he's not bringing that love of learning into the classroom. He fights tooth and nail about going, comes home exhausted, and isn't trying in between. It's both heartbreaking and frustrating. I guess this fits well with his recent declaration that he hates school, hates learning there, finds it really hard, and that he only goes to see his friends.
Why this news always has to come when I have my period and am an emotional basket case, I have no idea.
So he cried, I cried, we hugged, we talked, and we came up with some ideas.
First of all, I think he should be screened for learning disabilities. Let's find out if he's actually struggling with any subjects, or if he's just unmotivated - or overwhelmed - with the amount of work. Second, Geekster and I went out last night and purchased some curriculum books on subjects he says he finds difficult: math, french and cursive writing. Gutsy has committed to working 30 minutes each day on a subject until he feels more confident. He's been so tired at the end of the school day that we haven't even been pushing homework on him most nights, so this is going to require a little extra effort on his part and a little extra on mine.
But that's okay. It's not like I do anything, anyway. I'm just a stay-at-home-mom. The life of leisure and all that. It might be good for me to be productive sometimes.
There's a real sense of hopelessness when you get a phone call like that from a teacher. I remember feeling this way about Intrepid before we found his hearing loss; a powerlessness, like I was losing the grip on my child and he was about to fall through a crack in the system. We're missing something that could make all the difference for Gutsy, and I'm not sure what it is just yet. But we need to figure it out soon and find a solution.
I will homeschool him if we feel there's no other way to rekindle that love of learning, but I'm kind of hoping it won't come to that. Sure, it's mostly selfish on my part: I'm finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel after being home for fourteen years. In 18 months, all three of the gremlins will be in school, and I will be able to - gasp! - do something with my days besides parenting. I can, like, be a full-time writer and grow my business. I'm so ready for it that I can taste it. I feel really bad for saying this, but if there's any way we can make Gutsy a happy camper at school again, I'll take door #1 rather than the home learning option. Can I buy a vowel, Alex?
But I'll also do anything for my little horned wonders, including stepping out of my educational comfort zone. It would be a big adjustment for me, though. And put a kink in my dreams of being a world-famous writer and supermodel.
See? Me, me, me. Selfish, selfish, selfish. So sue me. The Maven is about as close as you can get, but no one is perfect, okay?
Anyway, that's a long way off. There are many things we can try before getting to that point. Things are improving with our gentler approach to discipline. Gutsy seems to be feeling safer, because he's opening up to me a lot more about what's troubling him. That's how we're going to get to the bottom of things around here: communication. So, even if this turns out to be a shitty year, we'll have accomplished something big.
Because, more important than a lack of motivation, school woes, or tantrums, is the relationship with a wonderful, beautiful, smart, funny, creative, original little boy in my life named Gutsy. We'll get through this together.
As long as we don't get eaten by giant squids.