Neurotic

Today, I found out that Kade made it in the TAG class at school. It was a complete surprise, instant elation. But sometimes I can't help but wonder if maybe I push him too hard. It only confirmed my suspicion when he expressed his own surprise.

"And just think," he said, "I made it into that class even though I didn't do very well last year."

Bad, Erika, bad. Honestly, I did become concerned last year when he brought home a test with an 89% on it. I overlooked it, thinking maybe he just had a bad day. But then he brought another home with an 80% on it and I freaked out. I demanded a conference with the teacher. She smothered a laugh, tried to reassure me that he was fine. But I freaked out. And he knew it. I wasn't disappointed in him; I made sure to tell him that. I was just disappointed, because it was a test that covered things he already knew. I knew he knew it. But the whole point is that he did do well in second grade. I freaked out over nothing. So when I heard him say that, I was really disappointed in myself.

And now he's in that TAG class. School hasn't even begun, yet I know I'm going to freak out over this class. Part of me (and this is the part that begins with a "C" and ends with an "S") thinks that I should just stand back and let him be a kid. Yes, that's great. I agree. But then my brain starts going into overdrive. What if they start actually challenging him? What if his grades go down? What if his self-esteem starts to plummet? Shouldn't I make sure he stays one step ahead of the game? Shouldn't I prepare him?

And that's not all. This year, he has a pretty teacher. I am fairly confident that I am the only mother that worries over such a thing. But you see, he already unabashedly flirts with the secretary and she's not hot at all. He'll never get any work done, now. You think I'm overdramatizing this, don't you? But you don't know that he asked to add Axe body spray to his list of school supplies. See what I mean? I am going to loathe those teenage years. I can see it already.

Each year it just gets harder. When he was a baby, I declared that he would be home-schooled. No way would I allow a public educational system to taint his existence. No way would I send him to one of those over-priced schools that push religion on him. No way. But then reality set in and he wanted friends. Sigh. Apparently, I'm not the best playmate in the world. Apparently, I hog the playstation too much to allow him ample time to play. Pfffffft, whatever. So I let him go to public school, but I pushed him in a year early just for good measure. We had a good run, until second grade. He became even more social, rushing through his work, so he could have free time to be with the kids. Inevitably, he made more mistakes that way. And now third grade is about to start... and he's taken an interest in girls. At the ripe old age of seven, almost eight.

Maybe that home-schooling idea wasn't so bad afterall. I wouldn't feel the need to push him as much, because there'd be no other kids to compete with. (I really need to stop that behavior. I don't know what is wrong with me, but I do feel that my kid is better than everyone else's. And so does he.) He'd have no one to flirt with. He'd get his work done... But let's face it. We'd end up choking each other to death in sheer frustration. So I guess I'm just going to have to suck it up, face this parenting thing and take each battle as it comes. I need to find a good balance between challenging him mentally, while still letting him be a kid. That's just a little hard to do when this seven year old sadly shakes his head at the Girls Gone Wild commercials and patronizingly declares, "Those girls need to cover their butts." The secretary may very well be right. He IS a little man. He really is.