Back in the day, little boy Heath made a rocket for a school project. It was a similar activity to Gwen’s rocket launch her class is having this Friday.
Heath’s rocket was made out of cardboard and balsawood. The teacher chose the best rocket to demonstrate the launch. He chose his. Heath had shaped and painted the cone top on so tightly that when the rocket exploded shortly after the launch, it rained down as blue confetti.
My mind is also raining down as confetti.
I believe the human mind is only capable of so much. I cannot house my own secrets that have monopolized most of my thoughts for the last several weeks while dealing with
- my mom’s wedding announcement and subsequent travel plans
- science fair projects (that was due today so I don’t have to think about that one any more and Parker did offer to buy me a Diet Coke and a candy bar as a thank you for helping him finish the poster last night)
- Gwen’s rocket that is now completed but still needs to be decorated
- trivial school projects in general that require too much parental support at a time of year when I am completely fried and cannot handle one more thing!
- the significant raise in rent that has not come with the handyman finishing any projects that have been sitting around waiting for him to finish for the last 6+ months
- Parker’s maturation program that requires nightly discussion (isn’t he too young for this even though he’s the same age Gavin was two years ago!)
- Gavin’s Galileo project
Gavin has been asking me to read his essay only I haven’t had time. He asked me again tonight after I had another major to do item added to my list of immediate attention required. Like the stressed out mom that I am, I told Gavin that I would read it another time. I needed a break. Then I asked when it was due. Tomorrow.
Brain confetti everywhere as I broke down into a sobbing mess.
We made the executive decision that I would not read the essay. I freely admit I am sour grapes after his teacher gave him a B on his last essay. The Pearl essay that I was heavily involved in and felt so good about. He was docked 20 points for I don’t even know what and she left negative commentary all over it. I took it quite personally. I would like my author friend, Stephanie, to have a look and tell me what we really did wrong or if this teacher is just crazy. That’s the problem with English – it’s largely subjective.
At any rate, I decided that Gavin stood a better chance of success if I didn’t coach him at all. It was peer reviewed and that will have to be good enough. After all it is only the 7th grade. This one teacher, who couldn’t see it within her moral compass to allow the track students in her class to leave early on a meet day, won’t keep Gavin out of the college of his choice. All the teachers around here think their class is that important. He can still dust himself off and try again.
We read our scriptures together, sent the G’s off to bed, and had the required sex talks with Parker. His eyes were wide and it was obvious his innocence was shattering over and over. He couldn’t stop giggling because he was so embarrassed! Heath and I were much less embarrassed ourselves having gone through these nightly discussions with Gavin. We were like, get over it kid. Puberty sucks!
Puberty, excessive end of year projects, and mind blowing confetti aside, the world will go on turning. I know because I doubt I could be so lucky!