This morning my heart hurts. I am a grieving mom... feeling the pain of my children. The responsibility of raising God's gifts can be so challenging at times, especially for a softie like me!
The reason I am sad is mostly for Andrew (or DREW as he now likes to be called). You see, he has the broken arm with a cast from his wrist to his arm pit, which prevented him from finishing out his baseball season. He also can't swim for at least seven weeks- and the poor thing LOVES to swim. We are going to Disney World Sunday and he will have to be so careful about the rides he can ride and he won't be able to swim. We are not even going to the waterparks, but the place we are staying has a cool pool with a big slide. I know that will be hard on Drew.
Another reason I am sad for Drew is because of the unfairness he has had to endure all year. Keep in mind that he taught himself to read at the age of three, can do double digit multiplication in his head and has the highest averages in all his subjects (he's even the youngest in his class with an August 29 birthday). He should have been on the all A Honor Roll, but has been kept from it, only making all A/B Honor Roll- due to his handwriting, of all things. He is in the honors class and his teacher is very strict. I have silently put up with it all year- that is until today. Last night, Drew spent extra long on his spelling paragraph. His handwriting was beautiful. He looked at me and said, "Do you think I'll make a 95? I would be so happy!" I answered, "I bet you will- and end the year with a bang."
Well, today is his field trip. They are seeing a movie, which at the last minute was changed to "Hannah Montana." Drew was in tears about this already, since it's such a girlie movie (I told him just to sit with his buddies and try to have fun). Then in a panicked rush to get to school early, Pete and I said, "Leave your backpack here- you won't need it anyway." All of the other kids keep their backpacks at home on field trip days. Well, when I took him to school, and as I was sitting with Nicholas having breakfast, I remembered about the spelling homework. His class was lining up to wait for the buses.
I hurried over to his teacher and said, "Drew forgot his backpack, and his spelling..."
She interrupted me. "I know," she said, "we already talked about it and he is very upset. He can bring it tomorrow."
Yeah, with a minus ten points for being late, I thought. "Can't you let me just run it up here- it's all my fault. We were in a rush..."
"No. Please don't. It's his fault, not yours. He can bring it tomorrow." Very terse and to the point.
I wanted to cry out and say, "Don't you hear me- I made him keep his backpack at home- he didn't even get a chance to say anything, we were so late. He was worried about that!" But, of course, I kept my mouth shut.
But I did call Pete. He told me to take it up there anyway and leave a note- "Isn't this Drew's best handwriting? Please let us take the blame for his not turning it in this morning. WE were the ones who told him to keep his backpack at home." I hope it works! Drew deserves an 'A' in handwriting!