No Cookie for Me!
I’m such a bad blogger. I swore to myself that I was going to make time to write, but blew it off for a month. again.
*sigh*
In case you were wondering, here’s what happened with what I now refer to as Gaz & The Great Homework Debacle:
Gaz (who is also a neglectful blogger, but hey, she’s ten and doesn’t type so well, so we’ll cut her some slack) has settled into 5th grade quite well. The whole shit load of homework was actually class work that she looked at and said, “OMG! It’s the same thing over and over and over again, someone just shoot. me. now. I’m totally doing this when I get home.” She was bored to tears in class, not by the subject matter, but by regurgitating said subject matter on worksheets in which the same question was asked about the same material about 14 bazillion times.
*gag*
I ended up going up to school, talking to her guidance counselor, which was a joke. I ended up calling one of the Special Ed counselors who had done Rico’s initial testing to get into PPCD. She’s now a counselor at Gaz’s school. We talked for a bit and caught up about Rico and then she asked me a bunch of questions about Gaz. After about a half hour, she asked if I had ever requested that Gaz be tested for the Gifted & Talented program. My response:
Gifted & Talented? Gaz? My Gaz? You’re kidding right?
I know, I’m such a good mother.
She said everything I described about Gaz pointed to a highly intelligent, yet bored child. Gaz is this in-your-face, shiny happy, social butterfly, “normal” kid, so yeah, she’s smart, but we assume she’s just slacking off. I felt so bad. But it totally makes sense. She plays the blond card so well that I just assumed she was average. Sneaky little thing. She’s so grounded. Kidding.
Anyway, I had e-mailed her teacher earlier in the day in regards to the amount of homework and we talked about Rico’s counselor’s revelation. Solution: She would give Gaz the work she gives the G&T kids and have Gaz tested so that she’s officially G&T. So that’s been working out well. Oh and we laughed about the whole U.S.S.R. thing.
Rico has been a little stinker in the morning when it’s time to get ready for school. He, too, is a consummate scam artist. See what I have to deal with here, people?!
Rico: I hate school! I wanna stay here with you, Mommy!
CE: You have to go to school and learn things. Besides Mommy has work to do.
Rico: But you’re staying home.
CE: Hence the term “work from home”.
Rico: Fine! Then I’ll go to work with Dad.
MEH: What?
Yeah, that was it pretty much every morning. It’s a total scam. MEH has been driving Rico to school and Rico’s having a blast at school. Here I am thinking they must be torturing my child for him to hate going to school so much. Turns out he’s a con artist. Nice.
His teacher told MEH that he’s been reading. Yes, people, reading! And writing at least 7 line stories. And reading (!) them to his teacher, then to his class. Yay!
Oh, and I’m not allowed to refer to him as “Baby” anymore. He made this perfectly clear the other day when I picked him up after school:
CE: Hey, Baby! How was your day?
Rico: I’m not a baby, I’m a kid.
CE: I wasn’t saying you’re a baby, I just called you Baby, you know like how I call you Sweetie sometimes.
Rico: I’m not a baby, so call me Rico.
CE: You mean I can’t call you “Snoochie” or “Buddy” or “Cutie” either?
Rico: No, call me just Rico.
CE: Okay, Just Rico…
Rico: NOT JUST RICO!!! JUST. RICO!
CE: Fine, cool your jets, RICO. Do you still want McDonalds?
No sense of humor whatsoever.
