I wasn't a daydreamer in school. For some reason I understood early on that if I got my work done and turned it in, I'd have plenty of time to daydream after school. My youngest hasn't quite grasped that concept. The kid has an IQ off the charts, but can't finish his work while at school. Now, when he is home, I set the old kitchen timer and he plows through his homework sheets with minutes to spare.
We've tried a variety of carrots and sticks to get this child to jump through the scholastic hoops. I've come to the conclusion that until he decides to starting jumping, nothing we do will get him to sail through the hoops.
His reluctance to do the seat work hasn't resulted in poor grades. Every paper so far this year has been perfect. He is capable. He is giving me gray hair. He'll probably invent the cure for cancer or figure out how to harness some cosmic force to manipulate the space-time continuum.
I had to tell him this morning that if he didn't get his work done, no traipsing off to APEX for his weekly 'gifted' class.
I hate this.
I'm off to work on bookstore stuff. I have a dozen or so folks to call about training. My sounding board got back to me with a few revisions. God love her, she is such a doll. I may be really quiet next week while I charge into this new challenge.
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