Earning an F

The other day Chris wrote at Notes from the Trenches about little ways she fails her kids. This morning, I'm really feeling like I'm failing mine -- Charlie especially -- in big ways.

I got an e-mail from Charlie's teacher yesterday that he'd had missing assignments two days in a row. I wasn't aware there was homework he didn't do because I didn't check his assignment notebook. I asked him if he finished his homework. He said yes.

Now, I knew in my mind that I needed to double check. To have him show me the work. But I took him at his word because I was too tired (read: lazy) to check. When I looked at his assignment notebook this morning (yes, about 12 hours too late), I saw that he has two tests today. I asked if he studied for them at after care yesterday. I got a blank stare in return.

He didn't even bring his reading book home, so he's on his own for that test. We went over the spelling words several times. As we were doing so, I realized this was the first time that I've seen the list all week.

I reached into his backpack and came up with handfuls of old crumpled papers. His desk at school is the same way. And why wouldn't they be? That's the way I am. Every time a teacher writes in a report card that one of my children needs to be more organized, it's a personal conviction against my character because they are not learning organization at home.

I feel like I'm failing him because I haven't been able to make him see that school is his most important job, probably because by my inattention, I'm giving him the message that it's not.

It goes beyond school. He wanted a short-sleeve shirt to wear today, but I haven't washed them. He's gone for two weeks without his medication because I lost the Rx. (See above re: organization. Found the Rx last night.) He and Robbie are taking their lunches wrapped in enough foil to tune in the TV on the international space station because I'm out of Ziploc bags. And the contents of their lunch are lean because our pantry and fridge are void of most things beside condiments.

Oh, and to add insult to injury, I just realized that he is singing in the choir at church this morning -- Mass started 20 minutes ago -- and I'm not there. If I wasn't trying to keep this a rated PG blog, I'd spew a string of expletives right here.

This is definitely one of those mornings where I'm ready to move to a hillside in Kentucky.