There was a big fight last night...over a paper that was due this morning.
The High School Football Player knew about it since some time last week.
I found out about it yesterday morning.
I said I would help.
I like to write.
Knowing about it since last week did not encourage this kid to work on it over the weekend.
He told me he didn't have any homework.
He had a friend over, they stayed up until 4 am.
Then he watched football all day sunday.
Then it was Monday.
I hear nothing.
Yesterday, The High School Football Player stayed after school to work on math, then went to the gym for an hour.
He came home, ate dinner and then decided he wanted to write this paper.
This paper is one of four that he has to write every year he is in High School.
He has to pass them, or at least one. I am not clear on the details, this is the first I am hearing of it all.
The High School Football Player pulled out what he had already been working on.
It was one paragraph.
At 7pm he looked at me and said, "Which topic do you think I should write about?"
Son of B*&@%!
I responded, "How 'bout you write, I will read at the end for corrections and help."
9:30pm..."Mom, I have been working for like 40 min straight, I need a break."
What the hell?
"What have you been doing with the other hour and 40 minutes?"
"God mom! Leave me alone, I don't need this right now! Can you just read it? I will be downstairs." (Swinging a baseball bat in the basement, possibly breaking the overhead lights...it has happened more than once.)
I read the paper...not at all the assignment.
I am pretty demanding though, I don't think perfection is too much to ask of a 15 year old boy. Right?
"What do you think mom?"
"This isn't what your teacher is asking you to do."
"God, you don't even get it! I have to get this done."
"Dude...this work sucks though."
"I know that mom! I just have to get it done! I am not a very good writer!"
"Yes you are a good writer...but this sucks man. You needed to be working on this over the weekend."
"God mom...can you just fix it?"
I chose to put the onus back on him this time.
I gave a few suggestions and then went to bed.
I then texted Marcus, who is out of town, and bitched and complained.
The High School Football Player went to bed shortly after me.
This morning, he got up and made his lunch and went to work on the paper.
He printed it out.
We will see how it goes.
Raising kids is so hard.
I want him to do well, I want him to learn, I want him to understand.
I don't want to do it for him, but I want to help him do it for himself.
How does one do such a thing?
He is a great kid, he does well in school, he does well at athletics, he helps out around the house.
Maybe I was too hard on him.
I may be the worst mother ever.
Someone should make me a cape with a huge CM...Crappy Mother, on it.
If raising a healthy independent teenager is an art...
I think in this round...I may have just made a macaroni necklace.
High School is a whole new ball of wax for me, I am certain it is for him too.
His grades mean a lot him, I am more interested in these little boxes.