It’s because I jinxed myself. I wrote yesterday about Bee’s enthusiasm for the school year and how much she was enjoying math. The castle of cards hasn’t exactly crashed to the table, yet, but it sure is wobbling.
It started out as such a good night. It was September 1st, and to celebrate kids everywhere (in our minds) returning to Hogwarts, we popped on one of the Harry Potter movies and snuggled in our pajamas and at pizza on the couch. Then I sent the girlies off to shower afterwards and I started cleaning up a bit and that’s when I made the mistake of taking out Bee’s planner to sign.
I looked over her spelling homework. There wasn’t any name written on it (one of Bee’s repeated offenses – you’d think after so many points being deducted last year, she’d have been cured of that particular habit). And the handwriting was ridiculous: I couldn’t even read half of the sentences. The ones I could read didn’t always make sense. And so I called to my Bee-baby and began the heart-crushing dance of trying to impress upon her how important it is that people in general – and teachers, in particular – be able to read her writing. That she needs to slow down. And that, oh, by the way, she’s really bright and don’t start crying or losing faith, but the sentences aren’t so much sentences.
I hate the school year.
I did my best to help my Bee-girl come up with better sentences without doing the work for her. I tried to keep her spirits up. I cleaned the kitchen and checked the weather and did little chores so I could check on each little bit and generally stay there with her. And then I found the other piece of homework sitting in Bee’s planner and got a “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that one.” from Bee when I asked her about it, and I tried very hard not to lose my cool.
I love my spacey, free-spirited goofy girl so much. I do. I just really, really, really hate the school-year carousel it seems we get stuck on every year.