I know I posted about how Bones went to Busch Gardens with his science class. They were studying physics. I'm not sure if I put that each were to take with them a camera and take pictures of certain things during the trip... speed, velocity, projectile, buoyancy.
I'll be honest. I knew from the get go, it was screaming in my head, "No good can come of this".
So we're going to hand an 8th grade boy with ADHD, a camera, in an amusement park, with lights, motion, sound, more possible stimulation than you can possibly imagine, give him a list and say, 'remember to take pictures of all this stuff'.
I wasn't asked to chaperone. His entire class wasn't offered the ability, so it wasn't anything personal. But I knew if I'd gone, I would have walked with Bones and his buddy, made sure they took their 15 pictures and then left them alone to enjoy the rest of their day by themselves.
Instead, I was left praying, "Dear Lord, please let Bones' partner be focused, driven and organized. Amen."
Let us not forget that little saying about magnets attracting, like to like, etc. I know that the kids that Bones chooses to hang with are flighty kids who live in a world of cotton candy clouds just as he does.
Please. One of his best buddies dances jigs through the hallways playing the harmonica in between classes.
This is not 'normal'.
This is an art school.
As he got out of my car I said, 'Bones, please, remember... pictures' to which I got the standard reply, "I got it Ma"... a response that now sends shivers down my spine. It's the less dangerous equivalent of "Hey y'all, Watch This!"
When he got back in the car upon returning, when I asked, "So how did the pictures go?" I received the reply, 'GREAT!' which I suspected was the equivalent of "How did the Math test go?" when he replies, "Great! I got an A' only to find he made a 35.
But I said nothing. Sometimes I play Scarlet and do the "I'll worry about it tomorrow'. Sometimes I play the ostrich and choose to remain in denial for just a little bit. Sometimes, I'm just hopeful.
All of them are coping mechanisms. Pick a day and there is no rhyme or reason as to which I will pick when my patience/coping meters have been pegged.
I don't know which it was that night. I'm leaning towards hopeful, but that famous river was probably involved.
His Dad does the Science. I do the Math. I can't do it all with him or I'll freak. I can only handle so much Bones.
So I left it alone, hoping someone had this under control.
A week later I finally starting badgering Bones as to when the pictures were due.
A side note, very few places develop real film anymore on the premises. Thank you CVS. They do.
I went to take the camera to get the film developed and realized... that there were TEN pictures left blank on the camera. 10. Ten. TEN!
That didn't bode well. Furious, I told him I didn't pay to have empty film developed and had him take pictures of his brothers.
I picked up the pictures, dropped them on the table and said to my husband, "Do with them as you must..."
Last night was the moment of truth, evidently. They were putting the project together. I was in the dining room when I started to hear the panic in the voice of my husband.
"Bones! Where are all your pictures! I have TEN pictures of your BROTHERS, a bunch of blank pictures, and the rest of them I have NO CLUE what I'm looking at..."
It went downhill from there.
Only one turned out... centrifugal force.
Of the entire camera.
Bones swears it was the worst camera ever and totally not his fault, except that doesn't explain why he didn't take pictures of 2/3 of the items he needed.
Fortunately, the teacher understood that although the intent was there, roads to hell and all that stuff, there was a Plan B. You could take pictures in your home of any that didn't take on the trip.
Which for Bones, was all but one.
Last night we spent the night taking pictures of projection, shooting nerf out of a gun took 10 takes, Bones scooting around on his scooter on the back porch (at night, I might add) for speed, a ball rolling down a foam board for acceleration... and on and on...
On the side, I was helping T with his homework. We were doing those damn train and bus problems... if Tina traveled 540 miles, 140 by bus and 300 by train, and the train traveled 10 km/hour faster than the bus, what was the speed of each?
I looked at T and said, 'Son, you cannot comprehend how much more stress free my life is going to be when a certain person goes away to college in 5 years..."
He thinks it's a riot.
I'm just trying to cope.Posted by Boudicca at February 5, 2013 07:42 PM