Dear Betty Lou

Standard

I’m pretty sure 15 is going to drive me to stow away on a cruise ship soon. Preferably one heading someone warm with fizzy umbrella drinks being served hourly.

Probably one of the biggest issues I’ve noticed with him is his lack of ability to develop good working relationships with his teachers. He acts like talking to them and asking for help and or asking for clarification on a grade (or lack of one) equates to a death sentence.

He will constantly tell me what’s WRONG with his teachers of course, but he will never address anything on his own. According to him – moms of teens say it with me – they all suck! They hate him! Blah blah whine whine.

Even with me being on top of his assignments to the best of my ability, he is still getting zeroes on homework. Homework that he actually DOES! How the eff does that happen? I watch him do it, watch him put it in the proper subject notebook (with his damn name on it yes) and STILL that goddam red box appears.

When I tell him to ask about it – “Oh, I don’t know what happened but it’s too late now because excuse excuse excuse…” Argh! How can he just accept that?!

Well, I don’t and today I emailed two teachers about those – I’m waiting on a response but really..I don’t get that it is so hard to ask them while he is there? “Hey Prof, I showed you this on Friday – see, you stamped it – why is it a zero on the gradebook?” Why so difficult?!!

What I need to do is get him to think of his teachers as football coaches.

Why?

Because he LOVES them! He develops relationships with them! We saw his football coach while we were at the school Saturday watching a baseball game – no hesitation but he was right up there giving Coach a fist bump and chatting away. He’s TOLD me about times he’s spoken with him about improving his skills. He mentions when coach tells him he ran a good route in practice. All through Pop Warner he had no problem talking to Coach Wolfie.

WHY can’t he apply those techniques to his teachers???!!!!!

I’m telling ya – Bahamas – here I come – and don’t try to find me until he graduates. And if he doesn’t? Fine – just send sun screen.

Love, me.