The Bigger I Get The Harder It Is To Fit In The Way Back Machine

So without filling this entire blog form full of complaints about my oldest child's lack of responsibility or anything else really, I will just say we have been having MANY a trying day lately. He seems to have learned absolutely nothing from all of this, I guess that is what it is to be 11, I don't know. I on the other hand have learned many valuable, or maybe only to me, things.

Teachers are WAY nicer to kids these days than I remember them being back when I was in school. Now, as I get Bigger (I shudder to say older as I have been feeling so young lately) I find that my memories of yesteryear, or the good ole days, or just the plain old past....well it isn't as clear as it used to be. Lets say looking back for me is like looking at the alarm clock in the morning with my glasses not firmly in place on my face. I know its there, I see something shiny and shaped somewhat like numbers but until I pick it up and pull it up to about 3 inches from my face, I have no idea what time it is. How is this like my memory, well until I concentrate and think back on something significant or memorable, I can only tell you feint general memories of the time, say when I was in the 6th grade. If my mother brings up something specific, she does this a lot lately in an annoying "in your face, now you know what I went through" attitude that is clearly undeserved. I mean the fact that I have little or no memory of this time clearly proves I couldn't have had too much going on back then RIGHT? If I was in trouble ALL the time like my son I would remember that! (Right?) But I digress....Teachers, from what I remember back in "my"day would tell you an assignment is due, you turned it in or you didn't. If you went to said teacher and said, oops I forgot can I turn it in late you were VERY very lucky if they let you. Mostly you got a too bad, learn your lesson and move on. Well, my son's teachers are letting him make up all sorts of work. I am terribly happy about this because he is FAILING many of his classes and this is the ONLY way he can bring his grade up to passing. But I still wonder how did I make it through this grade if my teachers didn't let me do such a thing?? I know I was not very good in school, my mom reminds me of this on a daily basis, so how did I make it without being held back or failing?? I guess the only thing different is the presence of my dad and a belt/board/hand/whatever to beat my ass when I stepped out of line. Which was a lot in my foggy memory bank. I can only say that at this point, beating my child while sounding like something that will make ME feel better does not seem to have the needed effect that it had back when I was a kid. Is this my fault? Perhaps I am not as intimidating or mean as my father was? I am not sure, I just know that I am not as scary to my son as I remember my parents being to me and my sister. Maybe it is the single parent thing? Wearing both shoes? All I do know is I can only hope my memories of these days will fade and fog like those of my Elementary School Days. Included to add a little picture to this post are shots of my Baby, because my oldest makes me so mad I can't even bring myself to take his picture lately. And I find pictures of Barrett Strangely Calming. Mmmmmmmmmm.....Calm!