Well . . .

It seems the roller coaster metaphor was more apt than I might have hoped. It’s been a bumpy week.

My son has been having some trouble getting himself focused on doing good quality work. He’s (just barely) doing enough to merit checking off the assignments on his log sheet. Unless I sit right with him, though, and double check every inch and enforce some reasonable level of care and quality, he takes every opportunity to slide by with sloppy and incomplete work. It is, needless to say, very frustrating.

This year is also his first attempt at a course that makes him accountable to someone other than me. We chose to enroll him in an online math class, primarily because he and I just seem to have trouble communicating about math. This is one of the subjects in which, when it is going well, he is both enthusiastic and talented. I, on the other hand, have more math talent than I was ever given credit for during my own formal education, but lack a firm foundation and enough confidence to teach it well. We got on each other's nerves an awful lot last year. So, we decided it would be best to remove me from the equation.

This, too, has proved problematic, however, since he seems to be having a great deal of trouble adjusting to the interface. And I can’t tell for sure whether it is because the course is truly too much for him or because he’s treating it with the same casual attitude he’s bringing to all of his work. Whichever it is, in this first week, he's managed to earn the equivalent of a failing grade.

It seems to me that the only way I might improve this situation would be to supervise his work more closely, but I’m not sure that’s the right thing to do. The softy-type mommy in me wants to believe that a couple of weeks of hand-holding and helping him to develop a better routine and study habits might allow him to find his feet and be successful in the course. Another, sterner voice says I might help him become stronger by getting out of the way and giving him space to either succeed or fail (or learn to ask for--and politely accept--my help) on his own. A third, very tired voice suggests that it might all be too much trouble and I should just withdraw him from the class now and buy a few workbooks. (I'm trying to ignore the voice whispering reminders about the existence of various schools public and private.)

Needless to say, my head is a crowded and noisy place today.

On the positive side, my daughter approached this first week with enthusiasm and a newfound desire to get and stay organized. She actually typed up a plan at the beginning of the week of which assignments to do each day . . . and stuck to it. Even some of the assignments I was concerned would feel tedious to her have gotten done happily and well. Let’s hope it lasts.

At this point on a Friday afternoon, I’m just happy to be stepping off the ride for the weekend.

I’ll let you know how it goes next week.