Chill Baby, Chill

My mantra yesterday was “Chill Baby, Chill”. I was so sick of being ready to mouth off at the slightest provocation that I decided I needed to CHIL. I told myself to “Chill Baby, Chill” when the driver in front of me was going to slow for me and once again when the driver behind us pulled out and zoomed around us slowpokes (if I had to suffer that slow rate, who was he to go faster). I used it often last night, on just about every driver on the road near me (they were all in on the conspiracy to tick me off) on hubby for sleeping on the sofa, on the boys for having a genetic inability to close a cabinet door, on the cats for wanting to be petted for 20 years in one evening, on the stupid omnipresent political ads. It helped. Some. But not much.

The local Country Music radio station (I either listen to country music on NPR and NPR was going on and on about politics) has a Simple Pleasures Thursday. The DJs tell their simple pleasures and the listeners call in with theirs. My simple pleasure was at least I wasn’t dead.

All I want to do is lie in bed and feel sorry for myself. Not that I need to be in bed to feel sorry for myself, I’m doing a good enough job of that just sitting here.

I blame in all on Boy A’s teacher. He is struggling with this class. Last year he got a high school letter for being on the honor roll all 4 quarters. But this year, for this class and only this class he is struggling. The hard thing is after each test he thinks he did really well, but it turns out he did poorly. Due to circumstances he has been in three different geometry classes this year. This teacher, who has only had him for a few weeks, can see he is struggling. Why can’t she talk to him and see what she can do to help him? Why can’t she suggest he stay after school for extra help? Why can’t she reach out to him and see what he needs? Why can’t she call me? Why do I have to be the one to always initiate contact? Why does it take her several days to respond to me?

At this point Boy A hates her and geometry. And I don’t like that. I think that attitude will interfere with learning. It is hard to want to do well for someone who you can’t stand. And I am a firm supporter of teachers. I think my guys need to pay attention to teachers, do their homework, follow the rules, be respectful and know the teacher is the boss. Those rules don’t change even if the kid doesn’t like the teacher or finds the class hard. But I think Boy A would like her if she would reach out to him, if she would treat him as a person, instead of a problem.

But I know this is a bump in the road. We will get a tutor. We will meet with the teacher, bring flowers to make nice, and see what Boy A can do, what we the parents can do and to see if we can smooth a path for Boy A and the teacher to work together better.