The Merry Month of May?

I'm extremely fortunate in that both of my boys generally like school. Of course, they would vehemently deny this to their dying breath. And each of them, without pausing to reflect, can readily spout off a litany of things they absolutely despise, such as Music Class ("they make us sing...and the songs are stupid"), Standardized Testing ("it's so boring"), and even Lunchtime Rules (I'm not exactly sure what the complaint is here, but I imagine it's due to the fact that they're expected to sit and eat in a semi-civilized fashion...oh, the torture.)  Every year, however, we reach a certain point--by mid-to-late May....as in "right now"--at which they are just D-O-N-E. Tragically for them, almost 4 more weeks of school remain, which they must endure before they're sprung for Summer Vacation.

There are telltale signs that I've learned to recognize over the years, which alert me to the fact that my sons are speeding toward their annual May Meltdown. First it becomes harder to drag them inside for dinner and homework ("It can't be time to come in; it's still so bright out!" is the common refrain. To which I reply: "yes, but since you're not using the extra daylight to plant crops, get your butt in here anyway"). Then comes the daily struggle to roust them out of their blankets in the morning ("It's just so...early!") Finally, I watch for the final stage of their School Malaise: the dramatic trudging to the bus stop in the morning, the slumped shoulders under the suddenly-burdensome weight of their backpacks, and the heavy sighs they give when they see the approaching school bus. It's a dramatic tableau, I assure you. (Except for me--exuberantly waving them goodbye, with the full knowledge that I have the next 7 hours to get things done all by myself. Yippee!)

Lately, though, the boys have been making their dissatisfaction even clearer to me. For instance, Derek started a conversation one day with the offhanded remark, "Eh, I think I'm done with school." Oh, REALLY? That's interesting news, do go on! He continued, "I know reading, and writing, and basic math. That's all a soccer player* needs to know (*his current #1 Preferred Future Job). And an author*? For that you just write a bunch of fantasy, get paid millions of dollars, and retire...so who needs any more school?" (*his "Back Up Plan" for gainful employment) He was joking...I think...but I hastened to disabuse him of the notion that he would be finished with his education any time soon. (He took it well, and wandered agreeably off to play.) Then Riley, at the bus stop the other day, commented that "The problem with second grade ("oh, this ought to be good, I thought) is that by now you're kind of tired of your teacher, and you're ready for a different one." Oh. Good Grief. My jaded 7-1/2 year-old lasted only 8 months before coming down with an acute case of Scholastic Burn Out. A few days later, Husband was monitoring Riley as he completed his Reading assignment. While attempting to write "glossary", Riley spelled it "ery". Husband pointed out the error, to which Riley reportedly exhaled wearily, slumped over his paper, and sighed, "Huh, English!" (That's right, honey, you've stumbled upon a deep, dark Academic Secret: inconsistent spelling rules exist solely to throw you into a pit of Homework Despair. Sorry about that.)

So, I believe it's safe to say that everyone in our household awaits the end of the school year with bated breath...is it June yet?