Life Lesson #374....do your math work, or else.

Here's another one of those parenthood lessons nobody tells you about when you're holding that firstborn sweet little darling infant, whom even when sitting in a diaper filled with his own poop, everyone thinks is cute. 

Back in the month of January, Elder Son's math teacher saw me pass his room in the hallway at the high school and came out to speak to me.  I knew from the look on his face, a bit of trepidation, that it could not be good for Elder Son.  He proceeded to explain to me that apparently Elder Son had began second semester in a less than stellar fashion, having just graded a test and reassessed the homework scores to date, it seemed Elder Son had a current grade average of 23.  That would be on a 100 pt gradescale. A whopping 23.   He assured me that he had time to pull it up, we were only a tad over two weeks into the 9 week grading period, but he certainly wanted to make me aware of what was going on, or as it were, what was not going on, with Elder Son. 

Being the good mother I am, I left the school hallway and immediately walked at a HIGHLY INTENSE pace with DEFINITE PURPOSE to the gym, whereas it was nearing the end of the school day and Elder Son has Athletic PE at this time.  Several guys were shooting basketball, along with Elder Son when I called his name in a DEFINITE WITH PURPOSE tone.  Of course a few of them turned and went,"ooohhh, Elder Son".....it was obvious something was up.  I realized the plight of teenage drama was not on my list to tackle for the day, so I pull pack my DEFINITE WITH PURPOSE attitude a bit and (breathe in breathe out) take on a slight smile and call him aside, pretending to ask about the pending basketball game, what time the bus is leaving, if he has money or needs money for something to eat, he answers calm and cool and unknowing of the firestorm coming, as his guard has been lowered.  I don't want to embarrass him in front of the peers, so as he edges closer to me in conversation, I ask, "do you have your phone"....he thinks I'm curious about it to make certain he doesn't forget it in a locker or his bag on the bus or some nonsense....he pats his pocket and says "yes m'am, it's right here"......"WELL HAND IT OVER, YOU HAVE A 23 IN MATH". (That was also in a definite with purpose tone, just so you know.)

Shock and Awe wave over him like a bout of seasick nausea. However, with no Dramamine in sight, he has no ability to dispute my words and simply hands the phone over.  I depart the arena without another word. Sometimes, I have learned this lesson so far, silence is best.  Let them think about it, stew it around their brains. And so that's what happened.  Until that evening, after the game and our return home.  Where we had a long discussion. 

It seems Elder Son decided Christmas Break was tons of fun and carried it over to mid-January.  Even though he was at school physically, he had forgotten to use his brain while there. Funny thing, it is an organ that will tell your lungs to breath for you automatically, but you kind of have to use self-motivation to make it work a math problem. He tried giving us a few excuses that were LAME in nature....for example, "I didn't understand it, it was hard and I studied".....really?  Because in all my days, I've yet to see you bring home a math book and study at night.  "Well, I just didn't understand it, and even when he tried to explain it again, I still didn't get it.".....really?  So, the fact that your father has tutored countless kids at that very high school in the last 10 years, specifically in the subject of MATH, you've heard them sit at our kitchen table for lessons in Geometry, Calculus, Algebra, Statistics, etc. etc. etc.......it never occurred to you that maybe if you brought the "I don't know how to do this, I can't figure it out" math work home with you, your father would help you see the mathematical light?

Did y'all know teenage boys can be really, really dumb sometimes?  Yeah, I knew that too, in fact I learned that back in the 80's.  Still stands true today. Let me just add that this might not be a big deal had Elder Son not been on the All A or A-B honor roll for his entire life and is more than capable of continuing to excel at that level, with effort.  So, we informed Elder Son that as punishment for this bad grade, he would no longer have a phone, was grounded from doing anything with friends on the weekends until we determined he had switched his brain back to the ON position and decided to start applying himself a little better in Math. 

Now, y'all, I'm not a math whiz, it's not my strong suit, never really was, but even I realized starting at a value of 23 this was going to be a rather strenuous climb up the ol' math mountain.  Daily I would ask Elder Son if he was pulling his grade u?, was he completing all homework assignments?, classwork?, tests?, etc. And each week we watched his grade SLOWLY creep up from a very low F to what some would call a high F.....whatever, an F's an F, y'all.  Nearing the end of week 6, sitting at a solid "D" in math, I realized this was going to take some type of parting of the red sea miracle for Elder Son to not mar his scholastic record. 

So, I pulled out the only bullet I had left that could make an impact on Elder Son. Do you know what is more important to teenage boys than a phone, or an xbox game, or time on the weekends with friends???  Getting to FINALLY drive a vehicle without your parents sitting in the front seat directing your every stop, turn, park and go.

I had actually resigned myself not to worry about him making a C, albeit I would be upset, I've long since conquered that demon that thought you saw perfection in an honor roll certificate at the end of the school year.  Sure, a "C" would not be Elder Son's true best in that class, and we all knew that, but I'm telling you, we were willing to take it, if necessary.

In hope of giving my parenting skills one last shot at supremacy over dumb teenager situations, I announced the new gameplan.  And this is what I told Elder Son, "look, if you do not bring home a B on that report card, I want you to know that I will take you to get your driver's license, and you can pass the test and have a fine looking photo ID to carry around in your wallet, because you WILL NOT DRIVE ANYWHERE until the end of school, when the next grading period comes around and you have pulled that score up to a B. That means you won't be driving until at least June.  Won't that be a shame, have a perfectly good vehicle to call your own in the driveway, with a perfectly legit license in your back pocket and plenty of PERFECTLY good reasons to help your mother taxi everyone here there and everywhere in between BUT TO NO AVAIL...because you won't be driving to school, to baseball practice, to meet up with friends, or even to the store to get milk....you will be grounded from driving until summer."

Shock and Awe set in again.  Days of painstaking point by point increases in his grade came and went, until it was the final week of grading. He had been working hard and had pulled in close at a 76.7.....desperation had set in, his eyes were weakening to the dreaded punishment that may actually come upon him. He worked problem after problem of extra credit, completed every assignment given.....and managed to pull out a 79.56.

Now y'all, I told you I wasn't a math whiz, but even I remember learning that if it's 5 or more you round up. Or at least that's what the do with the grading system. So, although I've yet to see the printed report card that says Elder Son has a B, he's holding fast to that fact, JACK!

Especially since he turned 16 just 5 days ago.....my little St. Patrick's Day baby.