My darling, smart, fun son Bubba is driving me crazy. At the beginning of the school year the after school program list came out and I asked him to pick two after school programs. One intellectual and one physical. Seems reasonable.
Martial Arts is done and gone and he LOVED it. Math Masters is all year long and we are struggling. Math Masters is ONE afternoon a week. Mondays from 2:00 - 3:45. So Monday is my ONE day to go and run an errand or two and kind of go do my own thing for a hour and forty-five minutes before picking my sweet Bubba up from school. I leave work around 2:00 - 2:15 everyday and rush home to meet Bubba by 2:25 on the bus.
So for months my son has "forgotten" to go to Math. Forgotten in the sense that I am on the other side of town-20 minutes away- just walking into Trader Joes (or somewhere where he sure as heck does NOT want to go) and I get a phone call from my home. Oops, that is a crying Bubba claiming he forgot to go to Math.
You have to understand that I have reminded Bubba, written him a note in his lunch, written in red sharpie in his agenda -that he fills in at the end of each day- and practically tattoo "Go to Math Masters" on his hand every Monday.
So today? Week 9 or so since he has consistently gone, I get a phone call at 3:00. I'm sick. My tummy hurts. Crap. I am in Macy's walking around talking to a friend on my cell phone looking thru racks of clothes. I leave the store and go and pick Sam up and take him to the grocery store (snow storm predicted tonight and it was on my list of errands).
I force Bubba to come home and get in bed. No tv. You are sick.
It turns out hat Bubba had a tummy ache because the leader of the club asked him a question that he didn't know the answer to. And he probably didn't know the answer since he hasn't been there in weeks!
Argh! One day a week! Geez.