On grades, progress reports and patience

I guess I thought I was done worrying about grades when I got out of school. Apparently not.

Progress reports for the kids come out every 3 weeks, and I can check grades online every day. Also, I can get an email when their grades drop below (or rise above) a set point. For us, the set point is 80.

And for the boy child, this has almost always been stressful. From day one, the work he produces and eventually turns in doesn't always match what he is capable of. He is bright, no one disputes that. He understands concepts, is able to discuss them and form arguments. But when you don't do the work because you forgot or didn't write it down, or do it and forget to turn it in, or turn it in but forget to write your name on it, it matters. Currently we are looking at a 25 (out of a possible 100) in English, a class that by all rights he should be acing, because the two major evaluations for the semester have not been turned in, according to his teacher.

In the classes that he is really interested in, such as Spanish and Science, he is making 98 or so. Even Math this year is improving, as he currently has an 85. Woo hoo.

But the English is really killing me. And now him, since he is in athletics, and can't play football for 3 weeks because of no pass, no play. And since the entire football season is not very long, that really sucks for him.

A Confession

Ok, I am almost afraid to write this...but I am not understanding the frenzy around the death of Michael Jackson. For the past few weeks, we have been inundated with coverage of his death, and now his memorial service. I understand that he was a significant and influential pop performer, but the coverage and tone is just short of canonization. The weirdness that accompanied his life during the last 15 or so years rather eclipsed his musical contributions for me. And it seems that the same press that nearly crucified him with pedophilia charges and his aberrant lifestyle is now falling over themselves with praise and adoration.

I am reluctant to post anything on my Facebook status, because several of my friends are still in the frenzy mode. They are talking about crying watching the television coverage of the memorial service. Really??? Tears for a media circus?

Oops, sorry, slipped into judgmental mode there for a second...

I suppose I feel sorry for Michael Jackson -- in his death, as in his life, he is totally on display to the public, servant to their whims. His was a life far from normal, and had no privacy. How much the choices he made contributed to his situation is a matter of debate. But surely, there more important things going on in the world...

Family Table?

To me, the family table is the place where it all happens. Meals, homework, art projects, reading the paper with coffee in the morning. It is where the groceries land when I come in the door, where people always end up gathering at parties. We gather and pray, eat, talk and discuss (and occasionally argue). When I think about friends' houses, I think about the times we have gathered at the table, drinking wine, playing cards late into the night. I remember the food shared, the laughter (and sometimes tears) as we come together. I remember the ones no longer with us, the tables long gone, with memories remaining. I mark time by remembering when each child, and then the dog, could no longer walk under the table without bumping a head. I remember when the babies left the high chair and joined us officially at the table.

What happened at our table today? Breakfast in the early morning, paper read after the school runs were completed. The afternoon saw homework times two, then cleared for dinner. All the while the floor underneath patrolled by the canine guardian.

What will happen tomorrow? Probably much of the same -- ordinary everyday magic.