Ever wonder how you made it out of middle school alive? My 7th grade days were not pretty, not with the cussing, bad hair phase, and determination to dismiss any and all authority. I had two best friends. One had fresh ketchup stains on her uniform shirt by the morning bell every day. The other was a living angel. Seriously a beautiful person. I had a certain rapport with the teachers. They didn't like me and I didn't like them. They actually got together and agreed to fail me if I ever turned in another paper written in cursive. Well, fine, my print was pretty terrible too. And I had an arch nemesis. She insulted me every day and I flipped her off (in my head). But I made it. Now that I'm a mom, I wonder how my mother survived my middle school years.
See where this is going? My oldest is in 7th grade. He is no longer the smiley sweet little guy who gave me pats on the back. Now he tells me, "Fine, I'll follow your lame-o rules!" He's actually very unpleasant, swears like a sailor, and can't stand anyone telling him what to do! What is that about? And school? Forget about cooperation to get him through that particular chore. Let's take his science class.
"Will, do you have science H/W for tomorrow?"
"Dunno."
"Check." He checks after telling me he's tired of people bossing him around.
"Yep." Since he doesn't have a textbook (budget cuts), I ask him what we're supposed to do. "Well Mom, you require five things to complete the task."
"Uh"
"First, you need a rubber band."
"Wait, I need five things?"
"Yes, first you need a rubber band. Second you need wax paper."
"Uh."
"Third you need a block of wood."
"Wood? What?"
"Fourth you need a force scale."
"No, that's not even a real thing."
"Fifth, you need a meter stick." Well, shit.
"Darrin Antrobus [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons"
"Darrin Antrobus [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons"
