I've finally done it. After all these months of working patiently and sensitively with Aidan to guide him through his schoolwork, I lost it.
Perhaps the trigger was the report card that came home on Friday. No grades have been reported because our province's teachers are enduring a long period without an employment contract, but I was reminded of the existence of a grading system. Below C-, we have the letter grade I for "Incomplete" and below I, we have the dreaded, F or "Failing." A student can only receive an F if I has been previously assigned for the course or subject and grade.
So I was reminded of the projects in progress in our dining room. One project was due on November 3 and Aidan has been wanting (I've stopped saying he's trying) to finish it for weeks. Another project was due about a week ago and it is half-finished.
The duotangs that came home in his backpack show several disappointingly empty lines and pages. He has no grade on his dictee for last week, except a teacher comment, "Presque! :)" ("Almost" with a happy face). His teacher has boundless patience and compassion for him - a lot more than I can say for myself this weekend.
He had gotten 1 of the 8 dictee words correct. He had practiced a little, but I know he needs to spend more time at it, to do better. Well, I tried sitting him down on Saturday morning, at the dining room table, to practice the words for Monday's dictee, and he was quick to suggest we do it "later." At that moment, I pounced ... I was the embodiment of a wicked witch and I'm sure my dear child never saw it coming. He recoiled as I vehemently pointed out that, as a result of his choice not to do assigned work, he is getting zero, ZERO, on dictee!
And I went on to attack his character by reminding him that, on a daily basis, he tells me he wants to finish his projects, but at every opportunity, he chooses to do something else. We have a busy household, this weekend was a marathon business financial update session for Skye and I, and Aidan has been taking the opportunity to sneak away from his work at every moment I am interrupted by another family member.
You see, he knows that I'm the only one in the family who cares if the work gets done. He quietly and genuinely explained to me, yesterday, that he does want to finish his book project, but he wants it to get finished "by magic." I told him that he is the magic that will finish the project. It's a beautiful project. It's a work of art. Sixteen pages of full-colour watercolour paintings, with accompanying text. His picture-book interpretation of the novel, "Shipwreck," by Gordon Korman.
Slowly, I am awakening to the understanding that Aidan is an artist. He is a deep thinker and a deep feeler. That's why I fall apart thinking about what damage my criticism has had on him. Several times this weekend, I've heard him refer to himself as an idiot and other derogatory descriptions.
It's not an easy time for us. Our beloved family pet, a tiny beautiful calico cat named Jazz, is dying of bladder cancer before our eyes. Skye and I had to accept the fact that we don't have enough money to buy Christmas gifts this year (of course, we'll find a creative way to put something under the "tree" for the boys, regardless). Skye's grandfather is going through extensive physiotherapy treatments to re-learn how to walk again. Austin has hit a boredom patch in his homelearning program. And we are all still adjusting to life after a wonderful year spent so close together, we were practically within arm's reach at all times.
So now that I've broken the spirit of my precious middle child, I'm feeling pretty broken, myself.
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