As mentioned yesterday, we're making Alyssa take a reading intervention program offered by her school. When Tom picked her up from the class yesterday, she was excited, said it was fun and was ready to head to Gram's to swim.
By 9:00 last night, she was a weepy, non-sleeping mess.
Why did she have to go to SUMMER SCHOOL? Why we were the meanest parents in the whole wide world? Why couldn't she just stay home and read twenty-five books a day and the report on them? Why weren't more of her friends in this class?
First I explained that this was NOT summer school. I told her that she wasn't going to this class because she needed extra help but instead she was going so that she would retain what she'd already learned and get AHEAD of the others when fall came and it was time to go back to school.
When she let it slip that the teacher in charge of this reading program is the teacher she's going to have come fall for third grade I tried to talk that up, to tell her how great it is that she's getting this chance to get to know her teacher and let her teacher know her and what a great student she is.
It didn't work.
At one point, I though she was asleep and tried to sneak out of bed to put a basketful of laundry away. Two minutes later, she was in the doorway, just standing there, staring at me with big, watery eyes.
I took her back to bed and spent the next HOUR telling her that it was okay to be sad but this class is only for an hour and a half for seven more days (six more days now) and that why she didn't WANT to go, I really thought she should stick it out since she started it.
She whined, she cried, the tossed and turned and begged.
She went to class this morning, still teary and more tired than ever because she went to sleep TWO freaking hours later than she should have.
At least I'm not alone in my meanness. Tom's all about this reading class too, so while I'm the meanest mom ever, he's the meanest dad ever.
A partnership made in hell as far as Alyssa is concerned.
Someday she'll thank us, right?
A mom, a dad and two daughters. We're living ordinary lives with a twist of 5p- (Cri du Chat) for spice. But we're about so much more than our younger daughter's genetic diagnosis.
3 comments:
Hunter has started saying " I don't like you, I like daddy better" whenever he is mad at me. They start so young, but at least we know we are doing the best for them and they will thank us for it one day (I hope)!
Heh heh... sorry, but welcome to the club you guys!
Ya' know, even if she never thanks you for it, she'll get it eventually. :) That's the hope I hold to, anyway... :b
Good luck to her. I hope something clicks for her that makes it fun and the remaining days just fly by.
Hugs,
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bhahahahahahhah that is sooooooo funny!!! Seriously though, you know you are serving them when they fight you on it... because you teaching her that she needs to finish what she started, that even if you don't like it, it still can be good for your and that you want her to excel and be the best and fullest potential. She will thank you one day!!! Even if she does look back at it and think she still hated summer classes ahahah she will know what your true intentions were.
PS My mom did the same thing to me... I HATED IT!! It was embarrassing and I just wasn't the one to like school or reading or anything!!! But I appreciate that she too wanted me to stay ahead or stay caught up really. I remember her referring it to as come fall I wouldn't have to dust the cob webs. It was a good analogy ahhahah.
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